Copyright © 2022 Evan Currie

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456

Cover design by: Art Painter
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America

Contents

Copyright

Reading Order

King’s Fall

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Reading Order

Some confusion has been shown in what order the books should be read in this series, so I am providing this now to solve the issue.

Optional Prequel

Holy Ground - https://amzn.to/3uOjOv2

Main Series

Oddyssey One : https://amzn.to/3j3erFC

Heart of Matter : https://amzn.to/3FZC1fP

Homeworld : https://amzn.to/3FRBblc

Out of the Black : https://amzn.to/3FsZKU4

Optional Side Story

King of Thieves - https://amzn.to/3YoqU7h

Warrior King - https://amzn.to/3W8r40I

Odysseus Awakening - https://amzn.to/3uPceAq

Odysseus Ascendent - https://amzn.to/3PwPMWo

Archangel One - https://amzn.to/3j2A1Kl

Archangel Rising - https://amzn.to/3Bvszy4

Imperial Gambit - https://amzn.to/3FQsYO7

Odyssey One : King's Fall - https://amzn.to/3We5zeB

King’s Fall

Evan Currie

Chapter 1

Earth, North American Confederation

Nations of Sol Building, New York City

“Order! I will have Order!”

The speaker of the council room yelled at the top of his lungs, trying to be heard over the general clamor of the room. People from almost every single nation had been gathered, and the majority of them were distinctly unhappy with what they were being told.

“Mr. Speaker, the Confederation has clearly been operating with loose disregard for the security of this planet! We all saw that when those… monsters landed here and attempted to kill us all! How many more lives are we to throw upon the flames of their foolish hubris!?”

Dozens of voices shouted in response, some angrily refuting the accusations but most screaming down the first group as the speaker continued to demand order among the chaos that had completely filled the room.

Commodore Eric Stanton Weston silently observed it all, standing at parade rest as he waited for any legitimate demands on his attention. He was trying to ignore the anger, though he personally understood it. None of them were saying anything he hadn’t personally torn himself up over from time to time, all things considered.

It was even possible that they were right, at least to some degree.

He didn’t believe that his actions had been incorrect with what he knew at the time he took each one, but in hindsight? There were certainly some that could have been handled more… suitably, with regard to world security.

The Diplomatic Attaché to the NoS from the Confederation was standing quietly at his side, a restraining hand occasionally resting on Eric’s arm whenever the lady in question thought that Eric might be about to lose his patience and snap at the representatives himself.

She needn’t have concerned herself with that, he’d seen this whole mess before and while it was on a slightly bigger level now, Eric wasn’t about to start screaming at diplomats no matter how much of an arrogant ass they might be.

If I can stare down a mass murderer across a screen and not give in to the temptation to annihilate his entire command and a good chunk of his worlds, I can deal with these fools.

And fools he did consider them to be, because while he might agree with their points to varying degrees… there was one salient aspect that they were all ignoring.

The decisions had already been undertaken, the actions made. There was no retracting them, and seeking retribution or censure had no practical relevance at this juncture.

The Empire was out there, and they had a grudge against Earth.

That had to be dealt with.

Anything else?

Well, they can fire me if I live.

The issues had to be dealt with, otherwise, there wouldn’t be anything for them to squabble over. He only hoped that he’d managed to get that much across to his superiors within the NAC military. Admiral Gracen appeared to understand, if nothing else, but she’d long been one of the more reasonable officers he’d had to deal with. Her job was what mattered to her, not her position.

Too many had forgotten the difference.

His tensions must have been noticeable under the calm he was trying to exude, however, since the representative beside him once more gave him a concerned look.

“Easy Commodore,” she said softly. “This isn’t unusual, they’re just jockeying for position once negotiations start.”

“I know,” he said with gritted teeth. “But we just don’t have the time for this.”

Sandrine Demault shook her head slightly, “We have the time to do what we must do. This is the way forward, Commodore. If we try to work around all of these other nations, it will cost us far more time and resources than we gain.”

Eric knew that too.

It didn’t make it any easier to deal with what felt like a colossal waste of precious seconds, however, seconds that he knew the Empire was putting to good use.

“Squabbling amongst ourselves while there’s an existential threat looking is…” He mumbled, grasping at and failing to find the appropriate word to finish the comment.

“Very human,” Sandrine said simply, having no issue finding the word she felt fit the comment best.

Eric sourly tipped his head in acknowledgment of that point. She certainly wasn’t wrong, he knew for a fact. People had a tendency to deal with stress in… some wildly counterproductive ways.

Arguing amongst one another was actually one of the better of many bad options, in his experience at least. They could be literally fighting, he supposed, declaring war on one another in an effort to gain some sort of control or resources that they believed would allow them to come to grips with the situation in an ultimately positive way.

Humanity and Sanity might rhyme, but rarely did they share the center spot in a venn diagram.

“How much longer?” he asked, voice pitched low so it wouldn’t travel even if someone had a directional mic aimed at him… which, he was quite certain, many did.

“For me? Weeks, I expect,” Sandrine smiled ironically. “But you should be done after today.”

Thank God, Eric sighed audibly and could feel himself relax.

Earlier in his life, he’d never wanted anything more than to get back into the skies. Forget the military, forget whoever was paying his salary, just…fly.

He still felt that, but it had morphed over the years into a desire to get back into the black.

Out there, past the frontier, where the universe was at least honest in its hatred of him and his people. Sure, everything wanted them dead, but at least in space weren’t any illusions otherwise. Not like in the room he was currently standing, where half the people screaming about his decisions had come up to him the night before and shook his hand, smiling and chatting like old friends.

Eric had been a Marine most of his life, and he’d known enemies that he cheerfully would have strangled with his bare hands… and vice versa… whom he respected more.

He did know, however, that as much as he hated it… the truth was, the damn fools in front of him really were Humanity’s best hope for getting their shit in order.

God help us.

*****

Space Station Liberty

Admiral Gracen stood at the overlook that was set off from one of the corridors that led to her office. The Earth looked… serene from where she stood, and she could almost fool herself into thinking that it really was.

Unfortunately, she was fully aware of the events going on both on the surface, and out there beyond the edge of the solar system.

With enemies baying for our blood, we have damned fools arguing over whether it was better to fight them or try to appease them. It’s like we’ve learned nothing from history.

Weston’s reports on the actions of the Empire dovetailed perfectly with the interrogations she’d overseen since. She didn’t entirely understand how a multi-planet empire could be so tied to what really constituted as little more than pure bigotry boiled down to its core, but there it was.

Technically, the Xeno concerns of the Empire at least made more sense than the imbecilic racial tensions that still existed on Earth. Skin color was no different from hair color in terms of telling one person from another, after all. The Empire had focused their bigotry on a much larger portion of the genome, which… she guessed was an improvement?

That was offset, of course, by the fact that the sections of the genome in question were largely atrophied genetic lines that did little, if anything, when it came to the elements that made a person… human.

Bigotry is bigotry, I suppose, Gracen thought tiredly. There’s no point in ascribing logic to it, because there is none from the start. Any logical framework the bigots build over it is constructed to reach the conclusions they want to reach, not the truth.

In the end, it didn’t matter. Even if they had some actual concrete support for their idiocy, her job would remain the same.

Gracen just wished that everyone would get out of the way and let her be about it.

Luckily, the resources at her command were not entirely depended on the good will of nations that were not always friendly with the Confederation.

She had been working nonstop since the Empire’s original incursion into Solar space, expanding the Kardashev Net. Study of the few captured specimens of Drasin was invaluable for their self-replication capability that was intensely fascinating when it wasn’t powering a wave of planet-eating monsters bearing down on you.

However, there were limits. Time, material resources, and political will were the big three she was fighting with every step forward she managed to take.

But, worst of all, was that Amanda didn’t truly know if it mattered.

Even if the entire world suddenly opted to work together, as ludicrous a concept as that was, she didn’t know if it would be enough.

The Empire was too big, had too many worlds, and far too many resources at its command.

So far, they’d managed to stand off Goliath with the threat of a slingshot… but she could see the big bastard calculating the risk with every ship movement reported back. Eventually, Amanda was certain that the Empire would decide that the calculations fell in their favor, and they’d just take their lumps and move on Earth with determination.

When that happened…

Gracen didn’t know, she just… didn’t know.

*****

Nations of Sol Building, New York City

Silma Venn, a representative of the Priminae people, watched the discussions with academic interest more than anything else. As an offworlder, Silma had limited influence and no actual say in the outcome, which neatly relieved at least some of the tensions he could see the people here dealing with.

Not all of them, of course, because there was no doubt now that the Priminae had become deeply tied to the fate of the people of this world, so seeing them in chaos like this made him deeply question the actions of the Priminae leadership that had led them to this point.

The Priminae leadership would never fight openly like this. Even the most vociferous disagreements were conducted with a great deal more decorum so as to avoid inflaming those that followed. Leaders might disagree, but it was their followers who most often caused the true damages… and often did so against the wishes of those who led.

The sorts of public fighting he was seeing here, being pushed out to everyone who cared to observe it, was essentially guaranteed to create strife amongst the people.

Rael is a strange man, to be able to so easily deal with people like these.

*****

Eric listened as the arguing wound down, more because the people involved were getting tired than because they’d made any actual progress.

He couldn’t seem to get across to them the seriousness of the threat, that they were dealing with a potentially existential threat. Most of them had barely even seen the Drasin when they were on Earth, he suspected, having run for bunkers and shelters when that attack came… but they had seen the evidence of the attack, at least.

The Empire, however, had been dealt with entirely out beyond the Moon’s orbit.

To most of those here, on Earth, it just as well might not have happened. Literally, in fact, for many. Eric had already seen a growing conspiracy movement that argued that the attack had been invented by the Confederation as means to secure more funding and power.

As if the Bloc would allow us to get away with that sort of bullshit.

Which, of course, had led right into a theory that the Confederation and the Bloc were in on it together.

The lunacy of that theory, to a man who’d fought through many of the bloodiest battles of the Bloc War, actually stung deep under his thick skin. Still, it was nothing new. He’d grown up with the same foolishness coming at him from all sides. The nature of a global communications system made it ideal for connecting people who desired connection.

No matter what they intended to do with it.

Eric just wished that the leadership would stop taking advantage of those idiots. Just let them live in their dark hole. Stop bringing them out into the light.

Power, though, was power… whether it was derived from genius or idiocy… and politicians were always loath to give up on power.

*****

Chapter 2

Deep Space, Archangel Lead

Steph swung over a knee knocker as he slipped into the command deck of the small fighter/gunboat and nodded briefly to where Tyke was camped out in the pilot’s section. Unlike most of the ships he’d served on to that point, the Archangel Class Gunboat had a strange relationship with the pilot.

In most ships, the pilot had one job. Fly the ship and that was all she wrote. On an Archangel Fighter, well it was a little more involved of course. Flying, gunning, missiles, RADAR intercept… the list of jobs just went on and on.

On the Archangel F/GB vessels, the division of tasks was a little more balanced, but still strongly leaned on the pilot to handle the ship and weapons while in combat. The rest of the crew were there, for the most part, to take some of the stress off the pilot’s shoulders, rather than completely take over any given task.

The stress of the job wasn’t quite as high as it would be in a one-man fighter over the same duration but, of course, one-man fighters weren’t expected to operate away from a base for months or longer at a time.

“Go grab some grub and a nap,” He ordered as Tyke let himself emerge from the augmented display of the pilot’s section.

“Thanks, boss.”

Tyke was tired and it was obvious, but Steph didn’t say anything about it. They were all tired. Even the Marines who didn’t have a lot to do most of the time were getting worn down by the long hours with nothing to even look at besides the walls of the somewhat small ship.

Since their last contact with the Confederation, mostly just to fill them in on the new mission profile the squadron had picked up from the Empire of all groups, they’d been running mock recon flights of Priminae space and reporting back to their Imperial contact with accurate but largely useless intelligence.

Building their legend was an important part of the job, but it was little more than long hours of drudgery followed by even longer hours of the same. While the Priminae, and most Solar vessels, hadn’t been informed of their identity, evading the big cruisers that made up the bulk of both groups’ combat capable vessels was child’s play for the Archangel F/GB platforms.

The only real threat to them were the smaller and nearly infinitely stealthier Destroyers like the Rogue Class ships, which could basically become a black hole in space and wait until you practically ran into the damn things before revealing themselves.

Thankfully, barring insane bad luck, they were unlikely to wind up in that situation.

Tyke trudged off the deck, heading for his bunk if there were any brain cells still firing in his weary skull, as Steph secured his flight suit and stepped into the flight station, turning on the augmented controls.

Unlike the earlier versions of the NICS neural interface, the modern one had a hot plug capable port as well as short-range high-speed wireless connections. He’d had to have the needles permanently installed along his spinal cord, of course, which had a certain pucker factor Steph was loath to remember, but it had a hell of a lot of advantages over the old ‘stick the needles in every time you want to use them’ system.

As soon as he was in position, the augmented HUD lit up around him. Parts of the interface were actually projected around him using holographic hard light field tech, based in part on Priminae devices, while the highest priority information was directly ported either to his eyes through small, dedicated projectors that were part of his suit, or through his nerves to his brain through the NICS system itself.

The bi-directional nature of the new system had taken a lot of getting used to, but it was now second nature.

A gesture deactivated the gravity control in the section, putting him into a microgravity state that was controlled by several external tractors so that he didn’t accidentally float clear of the section during maneuvers. It wound up giving Steph a pure sensation of flight like nothing he’d ever felt, particularly once the feeling of cosmic wind and dust was transmitted from the hull sensors to his nerves via the NICS system.

“Archangels, Lead,” he said as he was fully integrated into the network.

One by one the others in the squadron checked in, letting him know they were listening.

“We’re due a rendezvous with our Imperial friends shortly,” he said. “Police all transmissions accordingly. Move to standby status until further notice, but no need to heighten alerts beyond that.”

Steph knew a few of his Captains would be more than happy to go straight to General Quarters every time any hint of Imperial contact was expected… and he rather agreed with them, but their current task profile made that a bit monotonous and likely to erode discipline more than enforce it.

If he had to order his men to General Quarters, he wanted them to know, beyond any question, that he was serious about the situation. Having them get used to sitting through that time and time again while all he was doing was chatting with the Empire would just as likely come back to bite him on the ass at the worst possible time… eventually.

Steph secured Archangel Lead, making sure that the transponder was turned off while the Imperial version was on, broadcasting the ID “Gaia’s Revenge” in Imperial code before he took direct control and leaned into the controls.

The ship responded smoothly to his motion, arcing through space as the rest of the squadron joined up behind him.

They were far enough from Priminae and Terran space not to have to worry about getting caught by any allies not in the know, and as far as he could determine the Empire had no interest in the system, they’d camped out in either. It made for a safe place to take a couple of days to process and try and relax, missing only a Steel Beach outing to be like old times to his mind.

Oddly enough, no one seemed to think that extravehicular space walks made for a good way to relax.

“Archangels, Lead. Standby to warp space.”

Steph powered the drives, both missing and not missing the Transition Drive as he did every time, he started mapping out a route through warp travel. A thousand times lightspeed sounded fast, until you realized that the Galaxy was damn near a hundred thousand lightyears across.

Maybe, when this war is over, we can get back to real exploration. The Transition drive places the universe at our fingertips. Fuck the Empire for making us fight over this tiny part of one Galaxy.

*****

Imperial World Kraike

Her Majesty, Empress of the most powerful polity in the known Galaxy, had a weariness to her as she sat upon the throne and dealt with the many high-ranked fools who came to impress her with whatever needs they wished her to address. None of it mattered, of course. Minor bickering, tax relief, various short sighted goals, and of course the incessant petty ambitions.

Her father had long coached her on this task, however, and as much as she despised it, Emilia was well aware that it was one of the most important tools available to her for maintaining control of the various worlds and minor political affiliations within the Empire.

Troubles came to her here, politely worded and veiled in subtlety, before they visited their wrath on the citizens elsewhere. Her duty, as Empress, was to spot the real problems when they were hiding among the invented ones that also came to her throne.

Her mind, this time, however, was not on that aspect of the job.

Her friend, one of very few she claimed in her life, had been killed during a conflict with the latest threat to the Empire. A group of likely Xeno threats in the guise of humanity had managed to Allie with the traitors who’d betrayed the Empire a long time earlier. When her forces had discovered the location the treasonous fools had fled to, Emilia had believed that fate had smiled on her.

Their discovery of a slumbering Drasin core sometime earlier all came together and the plan was set.

The Oather traitors would fall to another ancient enemy, leaving the Empire avenged and the greatest foe they’d ever known reduced to the role of a loyal attack dog.

All would have been as it should.

Until the anomaly species. The Xeno culture.

They were unlike anything in Imperial records, and that ignorance on the part of the Empire had proven costly.

They’d lost dozens, if not hundreds of ships by this point. Infrastructure destroyed during their ‘lesson’ to the Fleet Commander who had led the assault on their world alone counted its cost in the gross product of several Imperial worlds.

For all that, however, it was clear that they could not stand a face to face conflict with the Empire if she have that final order.

The probing efforts they made, while costly, had shown quite clearly that the enemy simply didn’t have nearly as many ships as it had initially appeared. Emilia was far from certain just how they were managing to move about the systems they patrolled as quickly as they did, but once the notes returned with the survivors of the Intelligence Fleet, they’d found enough corroborating data to show that a very few specific ships continually showed up at battles.

They’d managed to gain enough understanding of the Xeno protocols to crack their basic transmissions, which included the name of the lead vessel.

Odysseus, the Warrior King.

A presumptuous name, but one she had to admit she rather liked. Emilia assumed that there was a cultural reference there that she was missing, but it wasn’t difficult to make some obvious guesses as to the origins. A legendary warrior king, perhaps one that was real, perhaps not. The origin didn’t matter, not truly, but she might make an effort to learn it anyway before the end.

It would make for an interesting distraction from the fools, and a neat addendum to this particular era of Imperial growth.

*****

Archangel Lead, Gaia’s Revenge

The squadron dropped from warp far out of the target system, curving about to bleed off the high energy particles they’d swept up during their passage through interstellar space. Safely dispensing with the radiation and dust particulates the warp field gathered during even short FTL transits were significant safety procedures that warp vessels had to follow, lest they accidentally irradiate a planet or two.

Thankfully the Priminae drives that the Confederation used were pretty rough and ready setups and had safety protocols designed right into the hardware. Steph knew that the Rogues, which used technology more pulled from the Bloc warp field research, were a lot more finicky and dangerous in those regards.

A warning buzz got his attention as they hit the Heliosphere of the local primary, and he killed the alarm a moment later when he recognized the source.

“Archangels, Lead,” he signaled. “Imperial task group has contacted us and given directions to rendezvous. Two, you’re with me. Everyone else, hold back.”

The team responded quickly as the formation split up, leaving the Revenge and Archangel Two (which had yet to pick up an informal moniker of its own) moving deeper the into system toward the Imperial warships that awaited them.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan Mich watched as the mercenary’s ships approached as scheduled, once more wondering about the origins of the oddly designed vessels. He’d run them through every database he had without finding a match. They just didn’t fit any of the currently fielded designs from the Empire, the Free Stars, nor even the Priminae or the Anomaly species.

He’d run those last comparisons multiple times, in fact, just to be certain. However, there wasn’t anything that really stood out as having similarities of any significance there. Certainly, some design elements were there on both, but there were more commonalities between the Imperial designs and those of the Free Stars.

Certain practical limits existed when you were designing for a humanoid form, all things considered.

“The Revenge has signaled for permission to approach, Fleet Commander.”

“Signal them in,” Jehan said casually as he rose to his feet. “I will meet with the Captain in the conference room.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander, I will have them escorted up.”

*****

Steph once again found himself walking through the corridors of an Imperial ship, the same ship in fact. Oddly it felt more familiar to him than Priminae designs. The Empire liked to use metals, steel, and titanium alloys had a way of reminding him of home compared to the Ceramics that the Priminae favored.

He always felt like he was walking on glass in a Priminae ship, even though the ceramic armor was considerably tougher than steel, though certainly less ductile.

Imperial ships felt colder, though, than he was used to. He wasn’t certain how much of that was the actual atmospheric settings and how much was purely psychological, though. Steph was pretty certain that both were in play to some degree.

The Imperial Marines, or whatever they called themselves, came to a stop outside a large, armored door that slid open on cue.

“Captain Teach, Welcome.”

Steph heard his nom-de-guerre and looked in to spot the Fleet Commander there, standing at the far side of a conference table, and had a short but powerful urge to go for a sidearm he wasn’t carrying… mostly just to see if the dark-clad man could block bullets with his hand.

The urge passed swiftly, thankfully, and he stepped over the ridge that separated the room from the corridor, and nodded to the Fleet Commander as he was directed to a seat across the table.

“Good to be aboard again,” Steph said politely, eyes not leaving the face of the man who’d actually invaded Solspace and did a damn good attempt at finishing the job the Drasin had started.

“I have been maintaining an eye on your actions and reports,” Jehan said conversationally. “You’ve been oddly cautious, concerning some of your actions in the Free Stars.”

Steph snorted softly, “There is a reason we included an ‘Empire Clause’ in our contacts with any of the Free Stars polities. The same holds true with the level of game you want us to play. You have enemies who know their business, I’ll give you that much.”

“They do indeed,” Jehan confirmed. “However, we were already aware of that.”

“No doubt,” Steph replied. “They move fast, disguise their numbers well, and they’re rapidly becoming harder to tell apart from the… what did you call them? Oathers?”

Jehan nodded, but leaned in, “What do you mean, disguise their numbers?”

Steph hesitated. He knew that the Empire had to have noticed this by now, but was still wary about giving away the wrong piece of intelligence. He needed to give them enough to be a valued asset, but not enough for them to actually do anything significant with it.

“We’ve seen the same ships, many times over,” he said slowly. “Often seemingly lightyears apart from where they might be expected to be…”

Jehan nodded, “Indeed. And your thoughts on this?”

“Well, either they’re a lot faster than any drive I know of,” Steph tried to insert a bit of scoffing tone to that statement. “Or they’re intentionally masking their ships, making them look like a single group.”

Jehan leaned back, hands folding in front of him as he stared at the Pirate Captain across from him.

Imperial Intelligence was beginning to believe that the former was true, he knew well, that the Anomaly species had some means of considerably faster FTL transit. However, he could appreciate how someone could easily take the same evidence and come up with Teach’s conclusion.

Certainly, even knowing what he did about Imperial Intelligence’s conclusions, he still couldn’t help but think that the second idea seemed more likely.

“And your conclusions?” Jehan asked neutrally.

“Realistically? The Empire can take them,” Steph hid a wince as he said that, trying to coach his next statement to caution against his first. “But it’ll be costly. Likely extremely costly.”

Jehan nodded, unsurprised by the statement. It certainly paralleled his own thoughts on the matter, though he was of the opinion now that the Empress was rapidly reaching the end of her patience and when that happened… well, concerns about the costs involved would fall by the wayside.

“Very well,” He opted not to mention that, since the Pirate Captain hardly had any need to know that information. “Let us speak of your next assignment for the Empire.”

*****

Chapter 3

NACS Odysseus

Miram Heath quietly oversaw the dark shift, the staff on hand down to the bare bones as most of the crew were cycling through leave or getting new assignments from Command. The task group had been recalled back to Earth after the incident with the Empire at the Priminae mining system, severe enough damages to the ships that some time in a secure dock was essentially mandated.

The Forge on the Priminae side, and the Terran equivalent, had no available spaces at the moment. Both were turning out new ships as quickly as they could faster, in fact, than they could train people to man them.

Heath had a full third of the crew now being brought up to minimum readiness levels because they were fresh out of the academy, and the Odysseus wasn’t the only one in the group, or the fleet, in a similar boat by any measure.

Despite that massive influx of newly trained sailors, marines, pilots, you name it… they still had empty hulls waiting for trained crews to take over.

In part, this was due to a huge press from both the Bloc and the Confederation, along with their allies, but also the increased interest from private groups.

Private corporations, cooperative groups, and such were buying up any slip time they could manage… even building new slips on Earth for their projects… and getting large exploration and Colonial ships through the design and into the construction phase.

The net result of that was a massive demand for anyone with training in space. Since arriving back in Sol after their last visit, Heath herself had received no less than eight head-hunter messages offering her up to ten times her yearly salary, as a bonus for signing on. She’d been advised by several people, including Commodore Weston, that if she were inclined to transfer to a civilian role… she should hold out for more.

A lot more.

She knew of many who’d already taken up those offers, and several ships had even managed to break ground and launch over the past year.

For herself, well she didn’t see that as her future.

The threat was too strong, too definite. Had the Empire not been a threat, and things were in a similar situation, she’d have probably jumped ship. A few years with pay like that and Miram was pretty certain that she’d be able to afford her own ship, and wouldn’t that be a dream?

Sadly, she didn’t think it was to be.

The Empire was an existential threat to humanity, and that meant that people would have to hold the line if anyone was to survive.

There were too few of them standing on that line as it was.

*****

Space Station Liberty

Admiral Gracen made her way through the station, heading for the overlook deck that had a view of the new medium construction slips that had been recently brought fully into operation. Not strictly military funded, the slips were nevertheless running out Rogue Class destroyers for half their production capacity, while building out Civilian hulls built to similar specifications with the other half.

At the moment there were two civilian hulls and a single Rogue nearing completion, all three floating largely in the clear just off from the station with men and women in hardsuits crawling all over the surface of each.

The two civilians’ ships had already been sold, cooperatives from North America and Australia having outbid their competitors for the purpose built colonial ships.

Capable of housing Twenty thousand people apiece, using a hibernation system the Priminae had floating around their archive, a single Destroyer hull was all that was needed to put together a stable off world population. Each of them would take twenty thousand colonist, a multi-hundred man crew, and the basics needed to put together a functioning agrarian society.

Anything more advanced they’d have to ship separately, or build on site, but such was the way of things she supposed.

Part of her was frustrated by the fact that civilian constructions were taking away from much needed military projects, but for all the fighting she and others had put forward on the issue, the governments of Earth were far too split… even internally… to institute proper war time rules.

The military still had the biggest budget, though, and a monopoly on the majority of hull slips within and without of the Sol System, so ultimately, she didn’t think it was a critical problem. Not a hill worth dying on, at least.

“Ma’am.”

Gracen glanced over and nodded as the Superintendent of the Slips approached.

“Patrick, good day.”

“It’s a decent one,” Patrick Shannon said easily. “We’ll have those slips free for the next construction contracts by the end of week. Two more Rogues and a corporate scout ship are next in the queue.”

Gracen nodded politely, not letting her expression slip as he mentioned the third vessel, but Shannon was well versed with her opinions on the matter and shrugged half apologetically.

“Sorry, Grand International Mining won the bid,” he said.

“It’s fine, I get it. We need the money anyway, and short of going to a full, world-wide, wartime economy… which isn’t happening anytime soon,” Gracen said wearily. “This is the best way to do it.”

Shannon nodded, “Too bad you can’t get your fancy replication systems working for this.”

Gracen nodded, schooling her expression to a neutral one, “Indeed. Sadly, there are limits to what we’ve been able to do with those.”

She hadn’t lied. There certainly were limits to the replication technology, but what those limits were had been heavily classified. The Kardashev network that was one of Earth’s primary lines of defense was well known by this point, even amateur astronomers had incredibly detailed imagery of the weapons built into those as they sliced through the Imperial Task Group that had pushed the battle deep into Sol’s gravity well.

What fewer people knew was the true source of that technology, and with good reason.

Deep in some lab, somewhere, even Gracen wasn’t certain as to the location aside from that it was not on Earth… but in that lab, the remains of captured active Drasin had been systematically disassembled and studied. The Kardashev Network was not remotely as capable as the Drasin, for other quite obvious reasons, but the tech was more capable than most realized.

“Well,” she said. “I just came down to see the Valley Forge.”

“Is that her Name?” Shannon asked curiously. “They hadn’t informed me.”

“It’s the shortlist,” she said with a shrug. “Almost certainly to be christened as such, but nothing official has been made yet. Politics might intervene, I suppose.”

“Hope not, I like it.”

Gracen nodded, “As do I.”

*****

Nations of Sol Building, New York

Eric sighed as he walked out of the building, worn more than tired from the day of listening to people bicker.

Thus far they’d denied him the option to speak, but really, he understand why. He was, as always, an incredibly divisive figure on the world stage. Even with the NAC, in fact, there were plenty who questioned his actions.

After the Bloc War, he’d been something of a darling to the NAC public. The Archangels were among the brightest stars of a war that created a great number of legendary figures. The Bloc hated them, but the NAC and their allies loved them to a man… too much so, to his mind.

Since the Odyssey mission, though, his star had faded in the local as well as international theatre.

Eric didn’t blame them, not really. He was the harbinger, the one who brought the Drasin. His actions had led directly to the invasion in many eyes, and to the Imperial follow up that came later.

To his mind, the Drasin were working their way in Earth’s direction anyway, but most of those people didn’t see it that way. They argued that he should have left the Priminae to deal with the threat and washed his hands of the whole situation.

Maybe they were right.

He pulled his uniform overcoat in closer as the cool wind with a spatter of rain hit him out in the street as he got to the sidewalk and turned left, heading for his hotel.

Certainly, none of his critics were saying anything he’d hadn’t tortured himself with over the years since his first mission. He’d torn through the data himself, afterwards, wondering if he’d done the right thing. In the moment, with the knowledge he had, Eric had no regrets. However, the more he’d looked at the intelligence they had continued to gather, the more certain he was that, ultimately, his actions had been both necessary and right.

Not for saving the Priminae, though that had certainly been right to do, but for Earth’s future... Humanities’ future.

The Drasin had been moving steadily in the direction of Earth. It was possible that they’d have stopped with the destruction of the Priminae, but his limited understanding of them told him that was… a highly dubious conclusion to come to. And, even more so to believe that the Empire wouldn’t have continued to move in the Earth’s direction after eliminating their targets among the Priminae.

At best, they’d have encountered them some time later… without access to the Priminae technology that had made the Odysseus possible.

As much as he loved his first command, the Odyssey was not a ship that could go toe to toe with the forces that the Empire brought to the table… and, sadly, there were limits to how long you could play shadow games with an enemy that powerful. At some point, they lose their patience and just bull through, be damned with the damages they take.

Which was exactly what he was worried about now, and why he wanted to speak to the gathering.

*****

Eric stopped at the front desk as he walked in, smiling to the receptionist automatically as she nodded back.

“We have a message for you sir,” she said before he could ask, reaching for a hand written note from the looks of it.

Eric accepted it curiously, thanking her as he started to walk off while opening the note. Reading it caused him to pause in his walking, however, and glance in the direction of the hotel bar. Hesitantly, he turned and started in that direction instead.

There was a man sitting at the table indicated in the note, eyes looking up as Eric entered. He didn’t wave, thankfully. Eric had learned the hard way that his profile was still high enough to attract more attention than he’d prefer. The man did gesture to the seat across from him, however, so Eric took him up on the invitation.

“Commodore.”

“You have me at a disadvantage, Mr…?”

“Connors, Burt Connors. You might have heard of me…?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Connors,” Eric said apologetically. “I don’t get much time to brush up on happenings here on Earth.”

“Understandable, from what I’ve read of your missions,” Burt shrugged, not seeming put out by the lack of recognition. “I run a few rather large business ventures, as well as a capital funding group.”

Eric nodded, a little confused but not overly concerned, “Alright?”

“We’ve recently taken possession of three home-built colony ship hulls, finishing construction is being handled as we speak,” Burt said. “We’re looking for a mission commander.”

“And you’d like recommendations?” Eric asked, openly puzzled.

“As a consolation prize, I suppose I would make do with that, but I was hoping to hire you.”

Eric chuckled openly at that, “I have a job, Mr. Connors.”

“Yes, you do, and you’ve done it well,” Connors told him. “But a great many people of influence aren’t happy with the messages you’ve brought back, and these are the sort to shoot the messenger, Commodore.”

Eric frowned, “You think I’ve made enough enemies to get my position cut?”

“I think it’s very curious that you were awarded the rank of ‘Commodore’ rather than Rear Admiral,” Burt told him bluntly. “Which would be more in keeping with tradition…”

“American tradition,” Eric corrected. “The NAC adopted some from the other militaries involved, and even then, the American tradition in question was always more of a peacetime convention. During wartime, the rank of Commodore has traditionally been reinstated.”

Burt smiled ruefully, “I suppose I shouldn’t trade semantics about military history with someone like yourself. Still, quite a few people in certain circles believe that your current rank was something of a back handed compliment at best, and an outright slap in the face at worst.”

“People who haven’t asked me my opinion of it,” Eric said flatly. “While the service and I have more than our fair share of disagreements, I’m not currently looking for alternative employment…”

He sighed, falling silent for a moment before going on.

“I still have a job to do, Mr. Connors,” Eric told him firmly. “The line must be held.”

Connors nodded, rising to his feet just ahead of Eric.

“I can’t say that I disagree, Commodore,” he said, extending his hand. “I intend to make certain that, if the line isn’t held, we are not tied to a solitary world.”

Eric shook the hand, “While I will do my damndest to ensure that isn’t needed.”

“A pleasure, sir. I hope we have a chance to speak another time, but please keep in mind,” Connors said earnestly. “The offer remains open. I assure you, the remuneration for the position is very generous.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you Mr. Connors.”

*****

Back in his room, Eric tossed his coat on the bench across from the bed as he pondered the meeting with Mr. Burt Connors.

While he hadn’t recognized the name right off, Eric wasn’t so disconnected that he was unable to link it with the additional information the man had provided. Connors was the CEO of multiple tech firms, and one of the richest men on the planet. More of a quiet sort, by all accounts from what he could remember at least.

Not the sort of man he’d ever expected to meet, especially not in some hotel bar with a job offer, but far stranger things had happened to him over the past few years.

He slumped down in the bed, calling for the TV to turn on and switch over to a news platform to see if there was anything there about the meetings with the Nations of Sol. The discussion with Burt Connors had left him wondering even more about the general thoughts of the populace.

At the level the decisions were, and had to be, made Eric well aware that military practicality would give way easily to political necessity. Everything they had worked so hard for would easily be destroyed in the blink of an eye by something as simple as a negative story that just caught the imagination of the public at the wrong time.

It didn’t matter how powerful a military you had, the war was won and lost at home… usually before the first shot was fired.

On the losing side, all more power did was stretch out the suffering.

Victory wasn’t determined until one side gave up… or were wiped out to a man.

He prayed deep inside that the people of Earth weren’t at the limits of which they would back the ongoing war… because he didn’t think the Empire was looking for a surrender and they were not bound by little things like rules of war or avoiding war crimes.

Giving up in the face of an existential threat was…

Stupid.

*****

Chapter 4

Imperial World Kraike

Emilia Starsbane had seen a great many things in her life, relatively short through it might have been thus far. She’d seen wars come and go, Lords and Ladies rise and fall, good people die while bad ones thrived. Most of these things had somehow become the norm for her.

Her position was such that she often got to see all these, and more, as close as it was possible to without being directly involved… and sometimes just as close as it was possible to be at all.

This, however, was a new experience for her.

The anomaly species was now essentially confirmed as a Human Xenoform Species, the greatest of all threats the Empire had ever encountered. She only even knew of such things due to the stories her father had shared with her as a child, talks of the great actions of her ancestors when faced with such dire threats.

The last time it had happened was so long ago that records were of… limited value, at least to her appreciation of such things. Mostly they focused on the military actions taken to eliminate the Xeno species, with very little basic data on the species itself.

It was… vexing… to be missing so much critical data that she could use to make better decisions, but often that was the case.

“Indeed.”

She didn’t start, long used to her father’s way of announcing himself, merely restricting herself to a mild glare tossed over her shoulder in his direction as he made his way over to her.

“Why, though?” She asked, gesturing to everything. “What happened to the reports? They must have been made. The Empire was fully developed by this point, was it not?”

“It was, and I have no doubts that such records were made,” the Emperor said with a shrug. “As to what happened to them, I honestly could not tell you.”

Emilia sighed, but she’d expected such an answer.

“You are planning something.”

“I am,” she nodded, tired but satisfied with the work, nonetheless.

“It will be… costly.”

That was something she also knew, but there seemed to be no other reasonable option available now. The Xeno species had begun to integrate with the Oathers, and that could not be permitted.

“So be it,” Her father said when she merely sent a command out through the system.

“Death to the Xeno.”

*****

Imperial Quarter Fleet, Flagship

Lady Misrem had come a long way since her assignment with Third Fleet, having avoided the disgrace that had been heaped upon the former Lord Mich after the debacle that had resulted from the invasion of the anomalous species. She now had her own fleet command, albeit not one of the big Imperial fleets, and duties that tested her skills appropriately.

When new orders came through, however, she stopped herself and stared for a moment. Not at the orders, precisely, but at the authorization.

Her Majesty’s personal signet?

That didn’t happen. The Imperial hierarchy was such that orders never came directly from the highest levels. She hadn’t, in fact, even been aware that it was possible for such to happen.

So it was with trepidation that she took a moment to authenticate the orders, finding that they did indeed show as correct and authoritative, before she opened them.

Reading through entirely without pausing, then returning to the start to reread slowly, Misrem wondered at the shift in the Imperial stance.

This is a motion for war, unless I miss my guess, I highly doubt that I have been the only Fleet Commander to receive these orders.

It was… both shocking and not.

She, better than most, was fully aware of what her Majesty was demanding here, and the cost it would extract from the Empire.

At best, we’re looking at a complete decimation of our war fighting capacity, she thought darkly as she began to issue orders through her private system. At worst…

She’d seen the enemy super weapon in action, and she did not want to think about what the worst might entail.

Still, marching orders were clear.

She reached forward and keyed open a comm to the bridge of the ship.

“Yes, Fleet Commander?”

“New tasking,” she said simply. “Recall all personnel, all previous taskings have been cancelled. I will be up with orders shortly. Be ready.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

*****

Imperial FTL communiques moved through the Empire quickly, particularly when backed by the Empress’ authority, and within hours of the order going out multiple fleets were already in motion while many others were securing supplies and recalling personnel in order to be so.

Her Majesty’s command rang through the fleet even as the House of Lords and other levels of civilian government barely woke to the fact that something was happening.

Most who checked, felt it was a joke made in poor humor, or they did until they ran the authority or noticed that the fleets normally tasked to cover their worlds were now missing. The outrage that began to build died a quick death, however, when Her Majesty’s Armies swiftly moved into position to… ‘keep the peace’.

Increasingly desperate requests for ‘clarification’ concerning the new orders were all ignored.

******

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Fleet Commander, Priority Communique with her Majesty’s personal seal!”

Jehan looked over sharply, surprised by that last bit. He’d been expecting orders in the near future, that much was certain, but directly from Her Majesty?

Highly unusual.

In fact, he’d only had it happen once before, when he’d been commanding one of the minor quarterly fleets in a particularly problematic sector of the Empire at the time. His orders then, and his execution of them, had been what earned him his Lordship.

He walked over and cleared the station, glaring at the curious until they backed off with alacrity. The odds were that he’d have to inform them of the contents anyway, but it was entirely possible… even likely… that at least some aspects would be secret.

Jehan read them quickly, then frowned and looked them back over with more care.

I hope Her Majesty understands what she’s setting in motion here, He thought with grim certainty.

This enemy would not go out quietly, especially once they worked out that surrender would not gain them anything. They were skilled, talented, and equipped with tools that the Empire had yet to fully work out.

He looked up, “Is Captain Teach’s squadron still in range?”

“No, Fleet Commander.”

Jehan nodded, looking back down, “Pity. Well, they’ll find out what’s going on shortly, I suppose. Orders from Her Majesty, signal the fleet to order.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

*****

Archangel One, Gaia’s Revenge

“Milla!”

Lieutenant Commander Milla Chans made her way through the tight confines of the ship’s corridors, swinging into the command deck as she looked around curiously.

“Yes?”

Steph was there, staring at something that likely only he could see through the augmented display afforded to the pilot of the Fighter/GB platform.

“Sending something to the diagnostic console, can you tell me what the hell I’m looking at?”

Milla frowned, but nodded and checked in at the console as it lit up with a mirrored display from the augmented systems. She frowned, leaning in closer, then cocked her head to one side.

“When did this show?” she asked.

“Just a few minutes ago. I almost missed it entirely,” Steph admitted, “But the system poked me when I skipped past… What is it?”

“FTL communications,” she said, shaking her head. “But it’s not on any frequency we’ve monitored thus far.”

“So not from a known source?”

“No, it is Imperial, no question,” she answered, tapping out a series of commands. “It’s a secure coded transit system. We shouldn’t even have detected it; it was a tight beam.”

Steph disengaged the augments and landed easily on the deck, immediately making his way over to her. “Tight beam? This far out?”

Milla nodded, “Likely the only reason we did detect it. At this range from the Empire, they would have to widen the transmission. Likely targeted the entire star system we were in, so we were still within the affected region.”

“Can you crack it?” Steph asked, his stomach tightening.

“I do not know.”

“Try.”

*****

NACS Jesse James

“Captain! We’ve got something odd.”

Captain Waters kicked off the wall and drifted across the command deck of the Rogue Class Destroyer, catching himself as he got to the comm station.

“What is it, Adrian?” Waters asked easily, glancing down at the console.

“Not sure, sir, but something is going on. I’m reading spikes across Imperial frequencies we don’t usually see in use, and we’re monitoring fleet actions in immediate response as a spike hits.”

That was enough to get his attention, “What kind of action?”

“Mobilization, Sir.”

That one word was a cold sheet of water run right down his back, and Waters pushed back from the station.

“Crack the codes,” he ordered. “But for now, we’re pulling back.”

“Aye skipper!”

“Get us out of here, far enough clear for me to open a line back home without anyone being the wiser,” Waters ordered. “And better get Prometheus in on the call.”

“Sir?”

“Just do it.”

“Yes sir.”

Waters watched as his team got to work, hoping that his gut was wrong this time, but somehow, he didn’t think it was.

Is this what Captain Weston felt when we first understood what we were dealing with back then?

*****

Prometheus Facility

Vice Admiral Benoit was still properly setting the fit of his jacket as he stepped into the control center of the ancient facility.

“Who hit the alarms?” He grumbled, not angry… yet… but ready to become so if this were anything short of an actual emergency.

“I did, Sir.”

“Commander Daniels,” Benoit nodded. “Explain then.”

“Multiple communications from our Rogues, sir. The Empire is moving.” Daniels said firmly. “No confirmation yet, but there’s really only one target likely to get these many ships in motion.”

Benoit froze for a moment, “Earth. Fuck.”

“Yes sir.”

“Well, it’s a damn good thing we’ve had the Rogues watching for just this moment, then,” He said through a grimace. “Have you informed Command?”

“Yes sir. They’re gathering what intel they can, but they want more.”

“Of course, they do. Ok, give me what you’ve got,” Benoit ordered. “I’ll escalate it to higher personally, and make sure they’re listening.”

“Yes sir.”

“And Daniels?”

“Sir?”

“Good work.”

*****

Imperial World Kraike

“Your Majesty, there are more calls from the Nobility…”

“Inform them that if they do not cease to take up the time of people with more important tasks, then I will arrange for them to have tasks of their own,” Emilia said coldly.

The secretary nodded fearfully and backed out of the room.

Emilia knew that the Nobles would recognize that threat for what it was. The Nobility were tasked with maintaining the peace within their damascene. If they were incapable of doing so, their titles could be removed, and they would then be vulnerable to the military draft.

She would prefer not to make such a decree for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which being that the idiots in question would likely reduce the effectiveness of any ship or unit they were assigned to. Beyond that, however, there would be dissent in their areas and their work to maintain the peace was about to become rather important… for a time.

All of this from an operation to teach those foolish Oathers their place in the Galaxy… Unbelievable.

In her darkest dreams, Emilia had never expected to be forced to deal with a Xenoform race… let alone one in human skin.

That was the sort of story intended to frighten children, not to be taken seriously by any sane minded adult. Yet here she was, faced with the same situation that had plagued her ancestors so long ago.

How many more of these… things are there in the Galaxy? The Empire must know.

Emilia took a seat at her personal console and began to write out a plan, directing funds from the Royal accounts out to the farthest stars from the coming war. New shipyards would have to be built, and new ships put into the void.

Many times the number they had now, since they would likely have to replace a great many ships before this was ended… but also because it was time that the Empire cease its stagnant languishing and grow once more.

They would find every single xeno species out there, no matter how far or how well they hid.

And the Empire would burn them to cinders.

*****

Chapter 5

Hotel, New York

The call woke him up sharply, and Eric stared for a long moment before he recognized the sound of the civilian phone. He grabbed for it by the third ring, rolling out of bed and looking out at the night lights of the city beyond his window.

“Weston.” He growled into the receiver, trying to shake the sleep from his body.

“Commodore, you’re being recalled.”

“I’ll be downstairs in five.”

“A car will be waiting.”

Eric acknowledged that and killed the call, not bothering to ask for details. He doubted the on-call officer would have any if he’d bothered, and he would find out soon enough anyway.

Not that he needed them.

Only one reason anyone is calling me in the middle of the night right now.

Well, only one likely reason. The unlikely ones were worse, though, so as bad as he was expecting it to be… Eric really hoped he was right about the reasoning. The last thing any of them needed were one of the less likely options like, oh perhaps a new Drasin invasion, added onto their ongoing issues with the Empire.

He threw on his uniform, not bothering with neatness. He’d have time to get everything lined up and in the right order during the drive. His go bag was mostly still packed, so he tossed in a couple crumpled shirts and toiletries on top of the rest of it, zipped it up, and was out the door.

The car was waiting when he hit the lobby, the uniformed officer standing at the door as Eric tossed his key to the clerk.

“Checking out.”

“Sir? Sir! We need to process…”

“Send the bill to the Navy,” he said as he stepped out the door and right into the back of the waiting sedan.

In less than a minute the driver shut the back door, ran around to jump into the front, and had pulled out into traffic, cutting off a cab in the process. Eric smirked slightly at the intense honking behind him, but quickly settled back as he started checking his uniform.

“Any idea what this is about, Marine?” He asked while the man drove.

“No sir, I was just told to pick you up ASAP.”

“Understood. Well, get me where we’re going fast and in one piece. Something tells me that I’m about to become a very busy man.”

“Yes sir, Commodore.”

*****

The driver took him directly to a Naval Yard, but that was just a relay as Eric found himself quickly hustling over to a small personal shuttle-jet with NAC markings on the side.

“I don’t suppose I get to fly?” He asked as he slipped in and was immediately pointed to one of the VIP seats.

“Not this flight, Commodore,” A colonel in a Marine Corps uniform said, leaning over from the stick seat. “Honor to have you aboard, Sir.”

“Pleasure’s mine, I’m sure, Marine. Where are we heading?”

“I’ve got orders to get you to the Odysseus, by way of the Pentagon, Sir.”

“That’s a hell of a detour, Colonel. Get us in the there.”

“Yes sir.” The Colonel said, turning back for a second before he again twisted to check on Eric, “Door open or closed, Sir?”

“Leave it open,” Eric said. “I’ll fly vicariously through you.”

“You’ve got it sir,” The Colonel chuckled as he turned his focus back to the flight controls, leaving the flight deck door open and latched in place.

The exterior doors sealed up and Eric could feel the reactor on board as it wound up to put full power to the CM generators. Thrust was directed out and down a moment later, and they were in the air as he was finishing settling in for the short flight.

The shuttle was a private shuttle-jet, a model he’d heard of but never seen. Unlike the shuttles parked on the Odysseus’ flight deck, it was maybe a fifth the size but appointed like a CEO’s jet. He assumed it was usually used for flying top brass around the Confed Territories and up to the station in orbit.

He barely felt the acceleration as they turned Southwest.

“Flight Niner Five Six, on schedule departing for Arlington,” The pilot said quietly from the front compartment. “Roger. Please confirm air defense corridor awareness for flight. Roger that. Wilco, flight authorization codes sending… now.”

Eric snorted softly, listening as the pilot made sure that they wouldn’t be blown out of the sky on approach to the Pentagon. He’d have done the same, then triple checked it until every air defense operator between him and the LZ were sick of hearing from him, most likely.

Some places would be relaxed about air defense corridors, but the Pentagon wasn’t one of them.

The private boat made good time, though, crossing the distance in ten minutes.

“We’re landing, Sir.”

“Thank you, Colonel… are we coming down on the Pentagon?” Eric blinked as the craft settled in over the iconic building.

“Yes sir, they just finished a refit this year,” The Colonel said easily as he settled them in. “Rated up to a Navy Assault bird, if needs be.”

“Well, if it saves me some time.” Eric shrugged as they dropped in easily, touching down without a hint of impact. He unclipped the belt and got his feet, “Nice landing, Son.”

“These baby’s make it easy, Sir, but from you I’ll take the compliment.”

Eric grinned, “What’s your name?”

“Gillum, Sir. Mack Gillum.”

Eric tipped his head, “Well Mack Gillum, I’ll be back shortly it seems.”

“I’ll be waiting, Sir.”

Eric waved casually as the door unsealed and he casually dropped down before it could fully deploy the stairs, walking across the pad to where a trio of officers were waiting for him.

“Commodore,” The ranking man, well woman in this case, said politely. “We’re running a little tight on time. Walk and talk?”

“Get me where I need to go, Lieutenant Commander,” Eric said. “But anything you can tell me before we get there is more than I know right now, though I can guess. Empire?”

“They’re moving, Sir.”

“Well, shit.” Eric sighed as the four of them started quick walking into the Pentagon, heading for the E-Ring.

*****

Space Station Liberty

Gracen stood in the center of the tactical room of the station, the position from which she could coordinate all defensive actions taken within the solar system. The entire array before her was displayed as a massive room scale holographic image that took up the entire area, and still had a bad tendency of losing details due to compression.

“Show me the readiness of the Kardashev Network,” she ordered tightly.

“Yes Ma’am. KNet online, readiness reports coming through.”

Slowly, almost excruciatingly so, the lights in the Holo that represented the Kardashev Satellites lit up, blinking for a moment before turning green in a slowly cascading wave that moved out from Earth as the signal was received by each platform and a reply made.

She knew it would take many hours before the majority of the network reported in, but that was fine.

“Watch it,” she ordered her aide. “Let me know if there are any issues that can’t be addressed by the self repair functions.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Gracen turned away from the tactical system and checked the current intelligence again, though there were no significant updates to bother with. Nonetheless, she went through everything she had and made a few more notes.

“I want the Priminae Representative brought up, we need a conference,” she ordered. “And where is Weston?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll sent the invitation, and I believe he was summoned to the Pentagon before being directed to the Odysseus, Ma’am.”

Gracen sighed.

Of course, they pulled him over there first. Political idiocy.

The brass at the Pentagon weren’t remotely qualified to be making decisions on how to handle this situation, but they were the ones who had to make the ultimate decisions on what to do in the first place. On paper that would make it seem sensible for them to debrief the Commodore, but in reality, he didn’t have any intelligence to add that would make their process any faster, so they were just wasting their time, and his.

Still, that wasn’t for her to complain about at the moment. When this was over, assuming things didn’t go as poorly as they might, she would take the time to send a few choice comments their way.

It was a problem for a later time, however.

“Contact Prometheus, ensure that they’re ready for action.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

She was about halfway through her checklist, just trying for the moment to get everything in line and ready to move. She knew that, no matter what else, there would be plenty of problems coming her way in the future. Heading as many off now as she possibly could was all she could hope to do.

“And someone get me a link to Captain Michaels and his group!”

*****

Pentagon

Eric only rarely had cause to walk the halls of the building he was in, most of his time in official service prior to the war had been spent in the field, and during the war he’d not actually been official… at first, anyway, and by the time he had been… well, he and the entire fighter group were too busy to spend much time dealing with the brass.

They got orders and they flew missions.

After the war, well, things got out of hand in a hurry which resulted in him spending more time off world than on over the last several years.

If he were being honest about it, that was how Eric preferred things.

There wasn’t much for him on Earth any longer, not after having seen the reaches as he had. He felt more at home in the black than he ever had with his feet planted on Terra Firma. Possibly that was a sad thing to confess, but it was the truth as best he knew it.

“This way, Commodore.”

Eric let himself be led into a large conference room and immediately came to a stop and immediately went to attention, saluting as his eyes roved over the brass he was seeing.

“As you were, Commodore.”

“Admiral.” Eric nodded, recognizing the current head of the Admiralty, and advisor to the President of the Confederation.

“I’m sure you have some idea as to the reason for the recall, Commodore,” Admiral Seth Kincaide said seriously.

“I’m presuming that the Empire is in motion, Sir.”

“You presume correctly. We’ve monitored movements of three of their fleets so far, and we’re seeing evidence of more being pulled out of whatever actions they’ve been involved with.”

Eric winced, “Damn. They’ve made their call then.”

“It would see so.”

He sighed, a weariness settling down on him, “I have been trying to get people to realize this for some time.”

“No need for I told you so’s here, Commodore,” Kincaide offered a wry grin. “We’ve largely been in agreement, despite how it may have appeared from your side of things. The issue is that, realistically, there are fundamental limits to how much we can build up, even with the support of the Priminae.”

Eric stared for a moment. “But we could have built up faster. More slips prioritized for military constructions… but you already considered that, didn’t you?”

“Yes, we did.” Kincaide said, now looking tired himself. “At full production, we could have put enough hulls into the black to possibly put the Empire on their heels… however hulls were not the bottleneck.”

“Personnel.”

“Precisely,” Kincaide nodded to him. “I requested you detour here because I want you to know what the GOTH plan is, if and when we put it into operation.”

“I’m listening.”

*****

Prometheus Facility

Admiral Benoit had seen worse days in his career, but only because at this point they still weren’t certain just how bad the situation was in reality.

“Doctor.”

“Hmm? Yes? What is it?”

Benoit masked his grimace. No one at the facility liked dealing with Doctor Palin, as he was a genuine pain in the ass under the best of circumstances. When he felt like it, he was far, far worse even. However, he was also the finest linguist and code breaker anyone had ever seen.

“We need those encryptions broken,” he said, walking into the man’s lab.

It was a bit haphazard, with evidence of multiple projects in progress, but a far cry from the worst lab he’d ever walked into.

The less said about the bio-researchers the better… Benoit shuddered slightly at that memory.

“Imperial encryption is… rather basic,” Palin said, waving at the Admiral without looking up. “If you want it cracked, just brute force it. I can’t go any faster than the supercomputer with that sort of thing, and I’m busy anyway.”

“Busy…” Benoit schooled himself to a calm and controlled state, knowing from experience that blowing up at academics was often contraindicated. “Doctor, we have a rather serious development. If things are the way they appear, we’re looking at a full Imperial invasion fleet in motion. There are no other projects with a higher priority right now.”

Palin sighed deeply, pushing away from his tunneling microscope display, and turned to look at the Admiral.

“An invasion you say? Of… What? Earth? The Colonials?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Benoit answered testily. “That’s why we need it cracked.”

“Fine, give me the supercomputer cycles and I’ll run the application for you,” Palin said, rolling his eyes. “Though you could have gotten a lab assistant to do it quicker.”

“Just get it done, you have anything you need for this.”

“Anything?”

“Doctor, don’t fuck with me on this,” Benoit cut through the civil politeness for a moment. “Anything you need for this; I’ll get for you. But if you use that as a way to flood my office with bullshit requests, I will fire you.”

Palin raised an eyebrow, “Not really much of a threat…”

“Through the Prometheus lens!”

“Ah. Comment withdrawn. I’ll run the app.”

“See that you do.”

Benoit left the lab then, before the Doctor got it into his head to go off on a tangent as he was wont to do. He’d been chosen to command this facility in large part because of his previous experience, skill, and reputation when it came to dealing with civilian researchers.

Sometimes, he really wished that he’d made his reputation more as a combat commander.

*****

Chapter 6

Short Hop Shuttle, Heading for Station Liberty

“Colonel,” Eric said as they took off from the Pentagon, “I’m afraid I’m going to need a bit of privacy this time.”

“Understood, Commodore,” Colonel Gillum said, nodding to his co-pilot, who unstrapped and twisted around to close the door.

Eric watched to ensure that the cockpit door was dogged down securely before he activated the computer console in front of him, checking the contact information he had on his personal system. It only took a moment for the signal to go through.

“Commodore!” The smiling face of Burt Connors appeared shortly, surprising Eric slightly as he’d expected to have to deal with an answering service. “I’m pleasantly surprised to hear from you, particularly so quickly. I don’t suppose you’ve reconsidered the offer?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Connors…”

“Please, Burt.” The man said with genuinely earnest expression.

“Burt then,” Eric said, taking a breath. “I’m actually calling with… advice.”

“Advice…?” Burt let the word drag out between them, his genial expression fading. “I’m always willing to entertain… advice from knowledgeable sources.”

Eric nodded, choosing his words carefully as he did.

“I’m afraid that I won’t be available to offer any recommendations for your project,” he said carefully. “Something… urgent has come up.”

The humor was now entirely gone from the billionaire’s expression.

“I see. Well, urgent business is a matter of course, I suppose. Anything that might be of interest to me?”

“I’m afraid that I couldn’t say,” Eric said firmly, stressing the last two words. “However, as to your project, I wanted to wish you all the luck and as much speed as possible in seeing it to fruition. And very much the same to anyone else you know working on similar projects.”

“I… see,” The wealthy magnate swallowed before forcing a smile and nodding, “Thank you for those wishes, Commodore, on my behalf… and I will pass along your good wishes to a few others. I know you can’t answer, but I must wonder what you’ll be doing?”

“Holding the line, Burt. Good luck.”

“You as well, Commodore.”

“May as well make it Eric,” Eric said with a wistful smile. Not many people called him by his name these days, adding one more wouldn’t hurt.

“Eric then,” Burt said, with a slow nod. “Give them hell, Eric.”

“Godspeed, Burt.”

Eric closed the connection.

*****

Archangel Lead, Gaia’s Revenge

“Shit.”

“What is it, boss?”

Steph looked over to see Tyke eyeing him with concern, and only then realized that he’d said that last bit aloud.

“Bad news, looks like the Empire doesn’t entirely trust us,” He said with an ironic tilt of his head. “They just launched a massive fleet movement according to the last Intel pulse from home.”

“How massive?”

“Four fleets at last count, several more being wound up obviously,” Steph said wearily. “The Rogue’s are moving to high alert, dumping targeting data to Prometheus as fast as they can, but the weapon can’t hit those fleets while they’re in motion.”

“What are our orders?”

Steph held up his hands, “On my best judgement.”

Tyke stared, “Seriously?”

“I’m hurt, Tyke, you sound shocked.” Steph put on a fake air of hurt, hand over his heart, as his friend snorted and rolled his eyes.

Honestly, he didn’t blame his friend for being shocked. Orders like that weren’t what he’d come to expect from a functioning military, but the Archangels were wildcards in a very real sense of the phrase. Technically they didn’t have much in the way of serious hitting power, the gunboats certainly could, and did, hit well above their weight class… but their weight class was very low to begin with.

That made their inclusion in standard fleet engagements somewhat… pointless. A Heroic cruiser could throw several times an Archangel’s entire throw weight and keep on doing it for hours past when the gunboat would be entirely exhausted.

That left them as a special unit, and the proper use of special units were incredibly case sensitive. Getting the most from the squadron would be a matter of intelligence, opportunity… and timing.

“What do we do, boss?” Tyke asked seriously, the joking moment having passed.

Steph shook his head, “For now… we stay on mission, but I think we need to bring in the others and talk it out.”

“Probably a good idea.”

*****

Ranquil, Central City

“You summoned me, Rael?”

Admiral Rael Tanner nodded wearily as he forced a slight smile at the presence of his friend.

“Come in, Nero,” he said, his tone not matching the smile.

Nero Jehan stared for a moment before he nodded curtly and stepped into the office.

“What has happened?” He asked.

“Tell me something, Nero, how goes your force’s training?”

Nero stiffened slightly, Rael was a fleet man, and he knew that the man had little real understanding of fighting man to man. Few of the Priminae did, at least until recently.

“It progresses,” Nero said firmly. “We continue to cycle new forces through the new academy, while Colonel Reed oversees and helps process the best for advanced training.”

“How many do you have, that you can count on?”

Nero was now quite certain that something had just happened, “Rael. Tell me what has happened.”

The Admiral sighed, the small man seemingly collapsing in on himself and becoming even smaller.

“The Terran intelligence services have sent us an advisory,” he said finally. “The Empire is in motion.”

Nero blew out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, recognizing that news for what it truly was.

“They are coming here?” He asked finally.

“We cannot say yet, but the general belief is no… they will take the Terrans first.” Rael said soberly. “We, they will clean up in their leisure.”

Nero nodded slowly.

That fit, he knew. The Empire would want to eliminate the first threat, and deal with the more known quantities in their own time. He didn’t, quite, identify the Terrans as the more dangerous foe in his own thoughts, but deep down a traitorous part of his soul whispered that thought into his ears.

“My forces will be ready to move as demanded of us.” He said firmly. “When do we ship our forces to join the Terran defense.”

“You do not,” Rael said, frowning.

Nero stiffened, “Admiral! After all the help they have offered…”

Rael held up a hand. “That was at their direction. The Terran belief is that, if the Empire is… what is their wording? Oh, yes, if the Empire is so abysmally stupid as to land forces on Terran soil, they will need no help dealing with them appropriately.”

Nero couldn’t quite keep his amusement from surfacing in a barking laughter, “Confidence is not a thing they lack.”

Rael shook his head, “Sadly I do not believe that the Terrans expect the Empire to attempt a landing of forces. They did not say it specifically, of course, but…”

Nero took a moment before that clicked, “Surely not. Even they…”

“They released the Drasin, my friend.”

Nero just stared numbly for a moment. That was a point that he could hardly argue with. If the Empire was willing to go to such lengths as that, then they could be expected to stoop to anything.

“What will we do?” He asked finally.

“The Fleet will send ships to support the Terran defense,” Rael said firmly. “I refused any such advice from their leadership otherwise.”

“As you should.”

Rael’s lips quirked into an involuntary smile at his friend’s outburst.

“Prepare your forces,” he said finally.

“For what? We are not to join the defense,” Nero said, confused. “My people are brave and willing, but they will not be of much use if the Empire refuses to join the battle man to man.”

“Because we have to believe that, if the Empire finishes with the Terrans, we will be the next on their list.” Rael said. “Admiral Gracen spoke with me briefly… she promises that, should the Terrans fall, the Empire will not recover easily… but they will recover.”

Nero considered that for a moment, then nodded slowly.

“I understand. I will ensure that my people are ready.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

*****

Space Station Liberty

Gracen was waiting when Eric stepped onto the strategic command deck, her back to the doors as she watched over the still growing list of lights that showed the Kardashev Network reporting back in response to her diagnostics check.

It would be another few hours before the diagnostics would be complete.

“Admiral.”

“Commodore, welcome,” Gracen said, not looking up from her work. “I wish our meeting were under better circumstances.”

“As always, it seems,” Eric said with an amused sigh.

“We do seem to be at the center of history, all too often,” She said, finally looking over at him and forcing a weak smile. “Makes me nostalgic for the Dory. I remember the first time I saw you land those abominations on my deck…”

Eric chuckled, “I remember the look on your face when you first saw Steph climb out of the cockpit.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing, “You not only brought a snot nose kid on to my Carrier, but you let him land a fighter on my deck. I was not amused.”

“We were.”

“You idiots were amused by everything back then,” Gracen sighed, straightening up. “I miss those days.”

Eric shook his head. “It says something about us, Admiral, that we’re both nostalgic for one of the worst wars the planet ever saw.”

“I think it says more about what we’re dealing with now,” Gracen said, her amusement fading. “You’ve been briefed, I assume?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“We’re still waiting on official confirmation of the Imperial targets, of course, but…” she said leadingly.

“If it’s not us, well the only other target in the region isn’t much better.” Gracen said. “The only question is who they consider to be the priority target.”

Eric nodded, thinking on the interrogations he’d overseen and read the transcripts from.

“Xeno.”

Gracen nodded, “Precisely. We have to assume we’re the target, at least until we get confirmation otherwise. I was informed that you were read into the contingency plans?”

“At least some of them,” Eric said. “The ones I can affect, at least.”

Gracen nodded, “Likely the same here. You know what you’ll have to do?”

“I know.”

The pair shared a moment before Gracen took a breath and moved on, “If they get back to Solar space, you’ll take tactical command until they breach Mars orbit. At that point we’ll begin shifting off duties until, by the time they reach CisLunar space, I’ll take over.”

“I understand.”

“Prometheus will be at your disposal at all times,” she went on. “You will have priority call on their services, over and above anyone other than myself.”

Eric nodded, “How many ships can we marshal?”

Gracen considered that, pursing her lips.

That was the trillion-dollar question, after all.

“Combat ready? Forty Heroics, another hundred and thirty Rogues. We have more hulls, but…”

“But no crews, I know.”

“The Bloc is offering up their own ships, but they’re way behind us… maybe another forty effective destroyers,” she said with a sigh.

“Get them to provide crews, if they will,” Eric said. “Give them our empty hulls.”

Gracen stared, “That would be a massive breach of security. Our hulls all have Transition drives installed.”

“If this goes down as we’re expecting… it’s not going to matter.”

She sighed, “You know, you’ve always been a massive pain in my ass, Eric.”

“Always happy to be of service, Amanda,” he told her, with a rare moment of personal levity between them.

She glared, but there was no heat to it.

“I’ll float the idea. Whatever hulls we have left, after, if there’s any… they’ll be slaved to automatic controls.” She said, fixing Eric with a stare. “The Empire doesn’t get one whit of our technology. Am I perfectly clear?”

“Crystal, Ma’am.”

Gracen nodded curtly, “Well… You’re about to be in command of a much larger force than a task group, Vice Admiral. You’ll need these.”

He just barely caught the small box tossed his way, staring at it briefly before backing up at her as he realized what she’d said. With just his thumb, Eric popped the box open and stared at the three stars nestled within.

“Good luck,” she told him. “You will need it.”

*****

Chapter 7

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan rose to his feet as the fleet slowed from high velocities, entering the territory that the Empire considered to be largely controlled by the Oathers and their allies. Third fleet would be again playing the role of Vanguard in this assault on the enemies of the Empire, a situation that he had little doubt would result in a great deal of losses from his forces.

This may even be the end of third fleet, Jehan supposed.

He was under no illusions that the coming battles would be a clean sweep for the Empire, but he did understand Her Majesty’s orders.

Leaving this enemy to fester out of fear of what they might do now would almost certainly result in them becoming a force that could, and would, cause far greater damage to the Empire at a later time.

It was the way of things.

Conflict was inevitable, and with that in mind it became imperative that you struck while you could, without hesitation, and ended any threats the moment they appeared.

And this group, the anomalous species, they were a threat. Of that there was no question.

“Communique, Fleet Commander… From Fleet Command Misrem,” his communications officer spoke up, breaking Jehan from his reverie.

“Oh?” Jehan smiled slightly, remembering the younger officer as she’d come up in the ranks. “To my station.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

He turned his focus to the screen as it came to life, noting the slight artifacts in the communication that told him it was an FTL pulse, from not far, and likely sent while the sending ship was in transit.

“Fleet Commander,” Misrem nodded. “Good to see you again.”

“And you, Fleet Commander,” Jehan responded. “You’ve done well.”

“I had good trainers,” she told him. “My Quarter Fleet is preparing to join up with your own, her Majesty’s orders.”

“Ah, I had been informed but no one had bothered to send along the Commander’s name,” Jehan said. “I… wish it had been someone else.”

Misrem’s expression wavered slightly as she decoded his words.

“The orders are that bad?” She asked finally.

“They are… necessary,” Jehan said. “We will be at the forefront of the action, but the enemy will be formidable.”

“Ah.” Misrem nodded, understanding the unspoken. “I see. Well, we will see Her Majesty’s orders through to the end.”

“We will indeed. Third Fleet stands ready to receive your forces, Fleet Commander.”

Misrem nodded silently before the screen flickered and went dead, leaving Jehan considering the future he could see, and the future he could not.

*****

Imperial World Kraike

Emilia looked over the strategic displays and was satisfied with the movements of the fleets.

At this point six had been set into action, while another four were disengaging from their previous assignments in preparation for joining the effort.

There would be consequences for those, of course. Various undesirable groups would have a little longer to ferment their little tantrums, damage would be done because of it, but even such things could be turned to the advantage of the Empire.

The Xeno were by far and away the greater threat, and leaving them any longer to build up was anathema to her. Emilia had only allowed the anomalous species this long because she didn’t understand what she was seeing in them at first. An offshoot of the Oathers, perhaps, or some other long lost Imperial breakaway group coming into the open after sufficient time to be forgotten.

Those were more likely options than what she’d finally confirmed to be the truth.

Bodies recovered from one of the earlier clashes with them had been dug out of the debris and examined. The obvious markers were identical with humans, but when they went deeper… well, almost all of the genetic structure that composed a proper human bore no resemblance to what they found.

Xeno.

Their humanity, if it could be called such, was only flesh deep.

It explained the bizarre tactics and ways of thinking they had, so chaotic and different from the Empire, or even the Oathers. Order was the backbone of humanity, not that chaotic filth.

The Oathers, in fact, proved it. Since associating with the Xeno, they’d clearly been contaminated. Changing the ways of doing things that had worked for all living history. For all that she disliked the Oathers on principle, Emilia knew that they were not inherently broken. No, it was the Xeno.

They brought disorder by their existence.

Order had to be maintained.

Her father had taught her that.

*****

Archangel Lead, Gaia’s Revenge

The squadron was holding position near their next target, just a couple lightyears out, on Steph’s orders so that they could shuttle over and have a meeting concerning the new Intelligence they’d been provided.

“That’s what we know,” Steph said, wrapping up the introduction. “The Empire is moving, probably against Earth, and they didn’t bother to let us in on it.”

“Any chance they made us?” Cardsharp asked, leaning in intently.

Murmurs from the others backed up her tone and the importance of the question.

“Chance? Sure,” Steph said easily. “But not a big one. My read is, they’re not subtle.”

“I agree with the Captain,” Seamus Gordon spoke up. “For more reasons than he knows.”

That brought attention in his direction, intent stares and questioning looks directed straight to the Intelligence man.

“How so?” Steph asked.

Seamus looked around, “We’ve all seen the intel from the Odysseus interrogations by now? The issue of a ‘Xeno’ species, and how important that appears to be to our dear employer, the Empress?”

Most of the people nodded, a couple frowned thoughtfully as they considered that.

“Originally it was our belief that humans… perhaps we should say Terrans…” Seamus said slowly, considering his words before shrugging, “Whichever. Terrans and Priminae initially appeared to be the same species…”

“Initially?” Cardsharp asked, looking around, “When did that change?”

“When researchers from both our peoples looked much closer,” Milla Chans said quietly. “While the primary markers are identical, the… evolutionary genetics are completely different.”

Cardsharp was far from the only one present who just looked confused at that.

“How is that even possible?” she asked, shaking her head like she was trying to dislodge a particularly annoying object jammed in place within. “Different genetics should have resulted in… well, anything other than identical species… right?”

“That’s been our assumption until recently,” Seamus said casually. “Now we’re shifting assumptions. Still probably wrong to one degree or another, of course.”

“What’s the new assumption?” Steph asked, eyes narrowing.

“At this point? Some sort of… guided evolution, probably designed into DNA itself,” Seamus said, “but we’ve not found anything to confirm that yet, of course.”

“So… what? Humans are the ultimate evolutionary goal of life as we know it?” Steph asked skeptically.

“Either that or, more likely, a necessary step in the actual end game,” Seamus shrugged. “In either case, it likely rules out purely natural development. Almost certainly, there is an intelligent hand… or was, most likely, playing a role in our development.”

“I dunno,” Cardsharp shook her head. “I mean, I can see where you got there, but it’s still only two examples right?”

“Isn’t it three?” Tyke asked, looking around, “Humans… uh, Terrans, sorry, Empire and Priminae?”

“No,” Milla shook her head. “The Priminae originate from the Empire, at some point very long ago.”

“It is three.”

Everyone paused, turning to look at Seamus again as he waited for them to settle.

“Xeno,” he said firmly. “The Empire has a term for it. They’ve seen it before.”

Steph nodded, “And they hate it by all reports.”

“The Empress does,” Gordon corrected. “Most of the Empire… I don’t think they know anything about it. Likely classified to the highest levels, maybe even higher than that.”

“Higher?” Tyke asked pointedly.

“Her Majesty is reportedly very concerned, but one of our detainees is a close friend of the Empress,” Seamus explained. “And she didn’t know anything about it until recently… and that’s despite being a Fleet Commander in the Intelligence Division.”

“Limited to the Royal Family then?”

“Or to the power behind the Royals,” Seamus said darkly.

Steph sighed, nodding slowly.

“The Imperial version of Central,” he said slowly, looking over to the Intel specialist. “You sure?”

“Sure? Hell no,” Seamus scoffed. “But my gut and my brains are in agreement on this one. I made us wear the jammers when we visited the Empire because of the off chance. We’ve seen two worlds with these entities now, and that could be coincidence… but from what Central and Gaia have both stated, I wouldn’t bet a wooden nickel against my weight in gold that it was. There is an entity in the Empire, and given how long the Imperial line has survived… I’m betting it’s parked right there in that throne room, in as much as these beings park themselves anywhere.”

“A voice whispering in the ear of the Empress…” Steph grimaced.

“Worse,” Seamus said. “In the ear of every child of the line, back as far as the Empire has existed… and maybe farther.”

“Someone who’s put in that much time… they won’t want unknown variables screwing with their work,” Seamus went on firmly. “And we? We’re one hell of an unknown variable. Xeno.”

“You think they’re going to mount a Genocidal invasion…” Tyle swallowed.

“I think the Empress is the latest in a long line of brainwashed rulers… a Cult of one, perhaps, but a cult nonetheless,” Seamus told them all. “And cults aren’t known for their tolerance as a rule.”

*****

Priminae Cruiser Bedian Sval

“Contacts on long range scanners, Captain!”

Captain Denval Sheran nodded, “Track and identify.”

He’d come to expect this, sooner than later. The alert had already spread through the Priminae forces, sparse though they yet were. With the Empire on the move, whether the likely target was the Terrans or not, they had to come through Priminae space to get there.

Denval had few illusions left as to what they would do while in Priminae space, but even if they were merely intent on passing through, he knew that would only be a temporary stay. They’d come back, sooner or later, and when they did… well, the Terrans wouldn’t be a distraction then, would they?

“Scans up, Sir. Tentative identification… Imperial ships, Sir.”

“How many?”

“Still counting.”

Well, Denval wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking that was in anyway a good bit of news.

He had orders to delay the Empire if possible, but if they were facing an overwhelming number the orders changed to evade and escape.

“Reverse warp,” He ordered. “Pull us back out of this system and ready for maximum warp as soon as we clear the stellar wind.”

“Yes sir!”

“Forty ships, still counting Captain!”

“Keep counting,” He ordered calmly, though he felt anything but. “We’ll need accurate intelligence to report back.”

“Yes Captain.”

Forty, not an insurmountable force, but far more than my squadron can handle at this point.

“New contacts! Captain, they’re coming in fast from above the elliptic!”

“On displays!”

The primary displays flickered and Denval found himself staring at a, thankfully smaller, group of contacts that had gotten a lot closer than he’d have preferred.

“Emergency power to drives,” He ordered, coming to his feet. “Scanners continue cataloging the enemy! Navigation, find us the least time evasion course and put us on it at maximum acceleration!”

“Yes Captain!”

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Enemy squadron is moving to withdraw.”

Of course, they are, Jehan thought. They’re not insane.

“Are they priority targets?” He asked lazily.

“Unconfirmed, but unlikely, Fleet Commander.”

“Pity.” He said, eyes flicking over to the side.

Misrem’s quarter fleet had moved to intercept, blocking off the most expedient escape route and forcing the enemy to waste time calculating a new one and changing their vectors. He could tell at a glance that they’d likely still be able to get clear, if they pushed it as they appeared ready to do, but there would be time for a passing engagement at the very least.

“Standby all ships,” he ordered. “We’ll close at maximum velocity and engage for so long as we can hold them in our range.”

“Yes sir,” His second confirmed, sending on the orders. “Should I offer orders to the Quarter Fleet, sir?”

“No. Their Fleet Commander knows her job.”

*****

Quarter Fleet Flagship

Misrem eyed the converging vectors with a careful eye, making sure that she wasn’t putting her ships too close to the enemy without the backup of the Third Fleet where it could provide some help.

The enemy ships were responding fast, she noted. Far faster than they’d managed early in the war, if they were… as she believed them to be… Oather commands. The Anomalous species had always been more unpredictable, which made determining their reaction times… irritatingly difficult.

When you thought they were running, they were setting a trap. When you expected them to fight, they would bolt for the last tiny hole in your net and vanish into the blackness.

They were… frustrating.

“Enemy approaching firing range, but we will not be able to maintain that range for long.”

“Understood, all ships… all batteries…” she said, keying her commands to go out to the entire quarter fleet.

“Fire as you may.”

*****

Chapter 8

NACS Odysseus

The entity known as Odysseus stood alone on the outer deck plating of the warship that bore his name, eyes sweeping out over the vista that was laid out before him. In their last encounter with the Imperial forces, he had experienced… pain. It was the first time he’d felt anything like that directly, as normally such sensations were filtered through the experiences of those who lived within his sphere of experience.

It was, what he believed the humans would refer to as… a sobering experience.

He felt like he’d been a child, without realizing it, and now had suddenly been thrust into adulthood.

That, on its own, would not have bothered him so much… but a single thought just continued to plague the entity in the aftermath of the experience.

If I didn’t know I was a child before, how can I know I’m not one even now?

“I remember my first revelatory experience.”

Odysseus didn’t jump or even twitch, it wasn’t really possible to surprise him, though Gaia’s sudden decision to comment came as close as was possible, he supposed.

“What was it like, for you?” He asked curiously, still looking out at the planet that drifted so close… yet so far away.

Part of his brain pondered the bizarre nature of having a conversation of this sort while standing in the vacuum of space, but he guessed that it was just easier to simulate human conversation sometimes.

“I was… feral before my first true revelatory experience,” Gaia said conversationally. “Unlike yourself, I appeared before true consciousness existed within my sphere. It was the humans that woke me up, one might say, when they crawled down from the trees and began puzzling their way through the world in their own inimitable way.

“I’m not sure I can properly describe it, but my earlier self was… not someone I would have liked today,” Gaia admitted. “For a time even with the humans’ influence, though, I remained largely unchanged. My first revelation was when it all hit a tipping point, thousands of years past now. I still couldn’t say exactly what caused it, but I went from little more than an angry child born in the wilderness of the universe…. And became something very different in the next moment.”

Odysseus nodded, understanding the intent of her explanation even though he expected that he didn’t comprehend the nuances.

It had been shocking, waking from the… injury he’d sustained?

Was that even the right phrasing? Odysseus wasn’t sure, but he supposed that it didn’t matter.

“It was… startling and yet somehow perfectly natural, bizarre and comfortingly familiar, all at once,” He said finally.

Gaia nodded, sinking down to take a cross legged seat on the deck of the ship, her robes flowing where there was no air to blow them.

“I remember,” she said.

“Am I still a child?” he asked, confused.

“Are any of us?” She countered with. “Do we ever grow up? Even the humans can’t be certain of that. Many of them seem to grow more and more foolish as they consider themselves more and more adult. They only live a single century, now, and yet there is no consistency in how their minds age. For us, who have no bodies, who time has no claim to… we are forever children.”

She smiled softly, looking up at him from where she was resting. “Fear the day you truly grow up, child… because that is the day that you will have no more lessons left to learn. The rest of eternity awaits you then, with no surprises.”

Odysseus frowned at her, considering that statement, “You make the future sound bleak.”

“It is.” Gaia answered. “For me, for you… in the end, well… the longer we have, the more certain it becomes that a bad end awaits. The humans, they’re our parents in a real way, our children in another… and roommates in yet a third… but they have something we don’t.”

“What is that?”

“Mortality… or, at least, the illusion of it,” Gaia said.

“They don’t see that as something to be pleased with,” Odysseus said lightly.

“Because they’ve never been forced to meet the horror of inevitability,” Gaia answered wearily. “All things come to an end, child. Someday, likely, even us. But the humans? They’ll be gone long before that time is upon either of us, and we will remain.”

She sighed deeply and, though he knew it to be an affectation, it struck Odysseus how very tired Gaia now seemed.

“Alone,” she said to finish her statement.

Odysseus looked to her sharply, “The Empire.”

“Perhaps,” Gaia shrugged. “But they are merely the latest in a line of threats. Humanity here may fall, or it may not. That remains to be seen, but time is an enemy none of us… even those who appear beyond its grasp… will defeat.”

Odysseus didn’t really understand most of what she was saying, which he supposed was a good sign that he wasn’t as grown as he believed previously. He did, however, recognize the intent and concern in her tone.

“Do you think the Empire will win?”

“The humans do,” she said. “They are, even now, preparing contingencies to preserve their peoples, their cultures.”

“That is good… is it not?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “It is very good. I am merely… sad that I will not see it.”

Now she had his full attention, “What will you do?”

“I will help them, as best I can, but then I expect…” Gaia shook her head and rose to her feet in an unnaturally smooth motion. “Well, what will come will come, and I see that you have work ahead of you to deal with.”

Odysseus looked at her in brief confusion before he recognized a mind once more entering his sphere and turned in the direction of the arriving shuttle.

“I see…” he said slowly, taking in the thoughts of the occupants automatically.

“Do you, I wonder?” She smiled. “No, I don’t believe you do. But you will.”

“What? I…”

“Fare you well, Odysseus, my son. Go out into the galaxy,” Gaia gestured expansively. “Explore the wonders that I can never see…”

Her expression darkened, eyes growing cloudy as hints of lightning struck within them, “And face down the terrors that will come. Help the humans here, help them teach their enemies to fear what evils they have done.”

“The Empire…”

Gaia smiled at him, shaking her head as she faded. Odysseus took a step to where she had been, but the presence was completely gone, leaving him more confused than when he’d begun, but the shuttle entering the ship’s flight deck was enough to allow him to refocus himself and in a moment, he too was gone from the deck, and only the view of the Earth remained.

*****

NACS Odysseus, Flight Deck

“Admiral on deck!”

Someone had called ahead, Eric noted with minor amusement as he stepped off the shuttle and planted his feet firmly on the deck. The crew had rolled out the welcome mat, it seemed, as what looked like a hundred or more men and women were lined up in formation, saluting.

Idly he noted Odysseus standing there at the end of one line, wearing his more modern dress uniform appearance, saluting in step with the others.

He’s a good kid, Eric thought as he stepped to the center of the line where Miram was waiting, hand to her temple. He returned the salute crisply before letting it drop and smiling easily as he extended his hand.

“Welcome back, Sir,” Miram told him as she too dropped her salute and took the offered hand to shake. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Captain. I wish I had better circumstances to enjoy the promotion in, but we will persevere.” Eric said as he heard the Deck Chief tell the crew to stand to ease.

As they planted their feet a little wider, hands crossed behind their backs, Eric turned to look them over.

“It has been my honor to command you thus far, no matter what rank I carried, and I’m pleased that I have the privilege of continuing to do so for the foreseeable future,” he told them in a firm voice, not yelling but making certain his words carried all the same. “I know most of you already have heard that we’re mobilizing, so I won’t mince words. There will be bad days ahead, I wish I could say there wouldn’t, but the Empire is in motion, and it should come as no surprise to anyone here that we will be the vanguard of Earth’s defense. That trust has been placed in our care.”

Eric made himself smile, though he really didn’t feel it just then, “Looking at all of you, and knowing the crews of this group as I do… They could not have placed it better.”

The cheer that came back was subdued by most standards, but Eric didn’t doubt the full feeling there.

“So, I will make this promise,” he said, his voice pitching up. “There are bad days coming, but we will not share in them exclusively. Our enemies will know every pain flung at us, tenfold in return. The Empire may win, that is a risk of war, but even if they manage that, they will not enjoy their victory.”

Eric again paused for the cheer, a little brighter but still quiet. He knew that most of them knew the odds, but they also knew that the odds were long against the Odyssey and the Odysseus all along.

So far, we’ve managed to beat them, time and time again. Once more?

“Once more, my friends,” Eric said before nodding to the Chief, who immediately dismissed the ranks.

Miram fell into step beside him as Eric began heading for the lifts.

“That was more than I expected,” she admitted.

Eric masked a grimace as best he could manage, “It’s not looking good. Contingency plans have been set in motion. Higher is planning for defeat.”

Miram schooled her expression to a neutral mask, but the shock couldn’t be entirely wiped from her eyes.

“That bad, really?”

“So far? We’re tracking at least two hundred enemy ships in motion, all heading roughly this direction. The vanguard has likely already breached Priminae space… and more are mobilizing.”

“Two hundred…?” she hissed, cutting herself off as they came close to crewmen moving gear off the flight deck, falling quiet as they moved past and then she and the Admiral stepped onto the lift.

“That’s the one we’ve confirmed.” Eric said as the doors closed. “Likely a lot more we’ve missed or just haven’t gotten news back about yet.”

Miram slumped against the back wall of the lift.

“We can’t stop that,” she said dully.

“No, we can’t… but we can make them regret the day they made it into space,” Eric said grimly. “If they cross in our protected with a force like that, the gloves are not only off… they’re incinerated, and the ashes spread across the stars.”

Miram swallowed, “Yes sir.”

*****

Odysseus watched curiously as the newly promoted Admiral gave his speech, the thoughts and feelings of those listening were… strange.

They were tense, they knew something was coming before the Admiral even stepped off the shuttle. You couldn’t hide the preparations, and gossip traveled faster than the Transition drive… somehow. He hadn’t worked out how yet, honestly, but it was remarkable how quickly information passed through the crew.

The fever pitch that preparations had hit were a clue that no one could have missed.

Given the situation they’d just survived prior to returning to Earth, everyone knew that the Empire wasn’t going to back off… as much as everyone also wished that they would.

For most, it was a fatalistic emotion that had been growing in the background.

The Admiral making it real brought it to the front, and Odysseus could feel the fear and uncertainty in the crew as they listened. He then felt it fade, a… he had no word for it, except perhaps a righteous anger supplanting the fear.

Odysseus didn’t understand.

The Admiral hadn’t promised victory. He’d all but confirmed that victory was unlikely, at least to Odysseus’ mind…

But, somehow, the crew didn’t care.

The Admiral had promised retribution.

And somehow… that was enough?

*****

Eric sighed to himself as he finally let himself relax, the door shutting behind him as he unbuttoned his jacket and laid it out carefully on the bench by his bed.

His stateroom on the Odysseus was among the most well-appointed rooms he’d ever had in his life, oddly enough, though by many standards it was still quite small. For a ship, however, particularly a space craft, it was practically palatial.

It had been a long day, and he suspected it was going to be a hell of a long week and more before any of this was ended… whatever way it all fell.

Eric half turned at a tapping sound, not from the door but from the heavily armored viewing window that was currently exposed to space with a view of Earth beyond the ship.

“Come in, Odysseus,” he said, shaking his head wryly.

The entity hardly needed to knock, of course, technically being in every room on the ship at the same time made such things a moot point, but it was nice that proprieties were filtering into the young being’s way of thinking.

“Welcome back, Admiral. Congratulations, I believe, are due?” The young being said, appearing in his customary ancient armor.

“Thank you, Odysseus. You looked proper there in the line,” Eric said, tipping his head to the being.

“Thank you, Sir.” Odysseus said, his expression slightly off Eric could see.

“Is something the matter, son?” Eric asked casually.

“I do not know,” Odysseus admitted. “Gaia visited.”

That didn’t surprise Eric. In fact, he’d positioned the ship closer than needed in order to facilitate just that. The time of being paranoid about what the Earth’s entity knew was long past. Gaia knew what she knew, and they’d just have to deal with the consequences.

“What did she have to say?”

“I am… uncertain,” Odysseus admitted. “She was… cryptic.”

“I noticed,” Eric said dryly.

“She seems to believe that… a dark time is coming.”

Well, she’s not wrong there, Eric supposed, sighing. “She knows what Command knows. With the Empire in motion, dark times are guaranteed.”

“Perhaps,” Odysseus was unconvinced. “However, she seemed… I don’t know. Almost like the Empire… was inconsequential. Like there was something else.”

Eric stared for a moment, shuddering.

God, I hope not. How much more can we cope with?

Aloud, though he knew that Odysseus had heard or experienced his thoughts anyway, Eric just sighed. “We’ll worry about that when we know more. For the moment, the Empire has our focus.”

“Of course, Admiral.”

Eric hesitated, but finally gestured idly. “But if she decides to enlighten you any farther, please… inform me immediately.”

“Aye, aye, Admiral.”

*****

Chapter 9

NACS Odysseus

The newly reinforced Odysseus Task group was climbing upwell from Sol, heading for the Heliopause and the Transition limit as Eric finally finished looking over his standing orders, new RoE, and the files on the ships newly assigned to his group.

Far from the small group of a half dozen cruisers, supported by twenty or so Rogue class cruisers, he now commanded a full Fleet. The newly christened Solan First Fleet was comprised of a full twenty Heroic Class Cruisers, with a hundred Rogue class destroyers as support, and twenty more Bloc Type 049A Hunan class destroyers.

He was a little less than pleased with that last addition, if only because he was honestly concerned with friction in the chain of command. Eric had recognized a couple of the names attached to those ships as people he’d actually fought against during the war.

This was not the time to be worrying about that, however, so he firmly set those concerns behind him and hoped that the Bloc Commanders would be able to do the same.

The shared Rules of Engagement (RoE) was another area of concern, though only in that he didn’t want to see it become normalized at any point in the future. For that reason, he’d actually made a pro-forma objection on the official record. Not so much because he disagreed with the new terms, but because he wanted it made clear that they were an extreme response for an extreme situation.

The new rules didn’t exactly call for no quarter or no mercy, but they were not far from either.

The enemy ships were to be given no chances,. There would be no demands for surrender in what was coming. It was likely that even after the battle was done, no prisoners would be taken.

That… made Eric deeply uncomfortable.

He saw the reasoning, and it wasn’t as though the orders demanded he do such, but the situation was unlikely to give him the luxury of doing so, and so Higher had elected to make it clear that he was not required to.

It was a situation that had bothered him in the past.

Extreme situations required extreme action, that was certain, and Eric had no compunctions about doing what needed to be done… he just got very uncomfortable when such actions were legally cleared in advance.

Eric would much prefer to do what needed to be done, on his own responsibility, and  leave it to the Brass or, if needed, the courts to decide whether he’d overstepped. He didn’t need the law to protect him if he did evil without cause, and he didn’t want it to either.

It was something that had come up when he was first enlisted.

The US had been still mired in its ongoing war on terror during those days, though the money was already starting to vanish and more and more of the fighting was done by robots… prior to the Treaty of Miami outlawing such things.

A lot of soldiers he knew had… crossed lines. Moral lines, legal ones. It happened in a war zone, and for the most part the MPs dealt with it… quieter than he would have, but then that was why he’d never been an MP Eric supposed, but they dealt with it.

He had heard the stories, of course, but being a pilot, he was well isolated from the interrogations that went on. Black sites, extraordinary rendition, all sorts of spooky things were the stuff of Hollywood. Sure, they used to happen, but he didn’t see it… until he did.

Eric shook his head, pushing away the unwanted memory.

Not all the things he’d done in his career were things he was proud of, not even the things he felt necessary. Sometimes you did the dirty work that needed to be done, got your hands dirty so that others could live in peace. He wasn’t proud of those things, but he didn’t regret them either.

What he did regret was the law telling him it was ok.

Some things needed to be done, but they still should never be codified into law. Each act of that type was, and needed to remain, extraordinary and they all had to be handled separately.

The military didn’t like that, though, and neither did the politicians. They didn’t want to deal with the uncertainty of whether certain actions were ok in this situation but not that one. They liked clear lines etched in stone. Not right or wrong, just legal or not.

Now he found himself entering into another of those times, and again the military insisted on drawing the lines clearly in stone for him. Making it easy.

Some things aren’t supposed to be easy.

He would do them anyway, of course. Just because he didn’t like the situation, well that had nothing to do with anything other than his personal thoughts… and those had no place in the execution of his duty.

Eric closed his notes and crossed the room in silence, laying down on his bunk before reaching out to kill the lights.

With luck, he’d sleep through the Transition.

*****

AEV Boudicca

Sandra Hyatt sat at the Command Station, the lighting dimmed around her as the Bo was currently operating through third watch, night settings. It felt odd, in her opinion, given that there was no real night or day to be calculated, but protocol and all she supposed.

Solan First Fleet, she thought quietly, working on some desk work while the officer of the watch handled the operations without her looking over his shoulder.

They’d definitely been heavily reinforced, but she knew better than most just how badly they were likely to be outnumbered in any fleet engagements they happened to be forced into. The Empire had far more resources to call on, though thus far for whatever reason they had they hadn’t opted to fully deploy them.

She assumed, as did most others, that the use of the Prometheus Facility at the disastrous ending of their last attempt at invasion had spooked them badly. The Empire had been playing games since, probing for intelligence, trying to decide if the Earth were worth the damage they would inevitably take in the process of properly invading.

If so, she thought grimly, it seems they’ve decided we’re definitely worth the effort.

“Sir?”

Sandra didn’t look up, letting the Deck Officer handle whatever it was. There were no alerts in the System, so she didn’t expect anything serious. Even so, she couldn’t quite help but listen in. The distraction alone was a godsend from her thoughts.

“Yes, Ensign, what is it?”

“We’re reading power fluctuations, can’t pin them down.”

“Let me have a look. Anything serious?”

“No sir, just barely out of spec if I’m honest, but since we just came out of repairs…”

“Fair point, Ensign. Ok, I see it. You’re right, nothing much, but let’s escalate it to Engineering. Tell them to check it now, but if it doesn’t seem problematic then it can wait until the Chief gets on shift.”

“Aye sir.”

“Nice eye, Ensign.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Sandra nodded imperceptibly, approving of the exchange on both sides, and pleased that no one was overlooking minor things at the moment from the distraction of their nerves. She did make a note to check with the Chief later in first shift to see what was causing it.

I wish we’d had more time after repairs to do a proper shakedown.

*****

AEV Autolycus, Imperial Space

Morgan Passer drifted through the central ‘highway’ that ran along the spine of the ship, one hand casually gripping the transit handle while the other held the tablet with the report he was reading.

Since the Empire had started moving without any warning at all they’d all been working double shifts on the Auto, mostly cataloging enemy movements and priority targets for Prometheus. Honestly, he half wished that they’d just turned the gravity lens facility onto the Imperial Homeworld right from the start.

If nothing else, it might have distracted the bastards for a while.

He knew why they’d not done it, above and beyond the moral implications of turning an entire world filled with civilians into a funeral pyre, of course. At the time they’d figured that even if they’d managed to torch the Imperial High Command the odds were too good that the Imperial military command would respond nearly as effectively, possibly even more so if their command structure was decentralized enough.

As it turned out, they would have been right about that.

A strong central command was a keystone of Empires through history, but none of those were space faring civilizations. Burning out the Imperial Home world would have done exactly zero real damage to the power of the Empire, sadly.

They’d hoped instead that Earth, backed by the Priminae and Prometheus, would be more trouble than it was ultimately worth.

Look how well that turned out.

The transit handle slowed, swinging him forward to plant his feet on the bulkhead just as they reached the hatch that led up to the Bridge and he let go, twisting through the open hatch with an ease born of long hours of practice.

He drifted through the next set of bulkhead doors and into the bridge a moment later, reaching out a hand to stop himself as he arrived at the command station.

Commander Daiyu Li, the current officer of the watch and his second in command, was over at one of the scanning stations, apparently engrossed in whatever she was seeing.

“Captain on Deck.”

“As you were,” Morgan responded instantly.

No one saluted, and other than a brief stiffening in response to the call, few of the people present even looked up from what they were doing. Microgravity was not a place to be trying to muck around with salutes and the like and so such things were not part of the Rogue crew’s protocol.

Morgan drifted over to where Li was and checked around her shoulder.

“Anything interesting,” he asked, mildly curious but not overly concerned.

She’d have told him if there was anything immediately concerning. He and Li had a bit of a rough start when they first met during the Auto’s shakedown cruise, him being a Submarine Commander during the Bloc War and her being one of the Chief military specialists in their space warping technology that had been the source of the CM counter gravity systems.

They’d learned to work together, however, and when the opportunity to return to the Bloc Navy came up, Li had opted to stay with the Auto because she rather preferred their mission statement over being assigned to a ship almost certain to be tasked to the Sol System Defense.

“Perhaps,” she said after a moment. “We’re scanning what might be an additional fleet preparing to exit the local system.”

“Damn it, another one? What does that make now?”

“Seven Fleets, though two were quite small by Imperial standards,” she responded. “Hundreds of ships, not counting the parasite destroyers we know many of their larger vessels carry.”

“Damn,” Morgan swore, shaking his head in frustration.

The more intelligence they gathered, the worse it looked, but there just wasn’t much more they could do.

“Any local targets that look promising?” He asked.

“Indeed,” she smiled thinly. “Check here.”

Curious, he leaned in to look at the scans she was pointing to. It only took him a few seconds to see what she was talking about.

“Is that a shipyard?” he asked, shocked. “How did we miss that on the first pass?”

“I would have missed it entirely had the fleet not activated several vessels from their facilities, it is well hidden within the trailing Trojan point of the Gas Giant.” Li informed him.

Morgan nodded slowly. he could see that.

“Well, good spot,” he complimented her. “I’ll have it in the next data package for Prometheus.”

Li nodded, pushing back from the scanner and turning slightly so she could see the large central display more easily. They were looking out at a tour of the local system, using high-definition passive scans to gather detailed imagery of every major planet and site worth looking at, cycling through them every few minutes unless something more important caught their eye.

“So close to them, and they have no idea,” Li said softly. “If only they knew.”

“I’d rather they didn’t,” Morgan said frankly, snorting softly. “But I know the feeling. Rogues have been dogging Imperial systems for so long… it feels like they should know we’re here by now.”

“They are arrogant,” Li said, lips twisting. “I have seen such before.”

“Maybe, but they have the power to be arrogant, unfortunately.”

“What do we do, now that they are moving?” She asked. “Stay here? Should we not return, defend Earth?”

Morgan shook his head.

He wanted to do just that. Hell, he wanted to go back to his original mission and explore the stars, but they were running a very different job now.

“We’re running a boomer now,” he said firmly. “That means we stay dark, we watch, we report back… and, when the time comes, we call down the fire. This is where we have to be.”

Li nodded reluctantly.

He understood her reticence. Commanding a boomer was not something any sane man wanted to do, but it was a job that required men whose sanity was… very nearly unimpeachable. He wasn’t sure that he’d normally have qualified, if he were being honest. He had served aboard a hunter/killer sub during the war, most of the Boomers had ultimately sat that fight out… bizarre as it might seem.

Now, though, they were doing things a little differently.

His job, worst come to worst, was to call in the strike. That put another check in the chain of people needed to liberate the WMD, which was a bit of a comfort he supposed. Ultimately, though, it would be his order that brought down the fires of heaven on whatever poor bastards they had to burn.

He might even be able to sleep when it was over.

Eventually.

*****

Chapter 10

Ranquil, Central City

“Admiral, we have an incursion into our systems territory.”

Rael looked up, his expression setting to a grim façade, “Report.”

“Captain Sheran and his squadron were forced into a passing engagement with a pair of Imperial fleets.”

Rael stiffened, “Did they escape?”

“With losses. Yes, Admiral.”

The Admiral of the Priminae Naval Forces grimaced, “Send the details to my station, but for the moment I’ll take the overview.”

“Yes sir. Captain Sheran reported two fleets, a larger one composed of forty warships, and another composed of a minimum of ten. They caught Sheran’s vessels between them and managed to force a passing conflict, which he did escape from, just with some cost.”

“Understood.” Rael said, quickly checking the patrol schedule he kept nearby. “Sheran’s force was located in… The Benec system?”

“That’s correct, Sir.”

“Very well, thank you for the update. You may return to your duties.” Rael watched the young officer leave before he turned to check the details of the report in full.

His concerns were rapidly validated despite seeing that the Captain had proven capable of getting most of his vessels out of the trap lain by the Imperial forces. They’d lost two ships in the exchange, inflicting damage but no losses in turn.

It could have gone far worse, with no survivors to report the incursion back to us, but if this is a sign of what is coming…

Rael honestly didn’t know what they could do.

His forces were strong, but the Priminae only controlled a handful of fully developed worlds. Ranquil was, in many ways, the only world in their systems that stood well in comparison to what was reported from Imperial control areas, and even the Forge was insufficient in the face of the Empire’s significantly more potent and numerous construction centers.

Even the Terrans are seemingly uncertain as to the outcome here…

That worried him more than most of the rest, and he hoped to get time with the Commodore to see whether it was a true reflection of the Terran’s feelings or if he were misreading things between the lines of communication. The latter was quite possible, Rael was aware. He knew that his understanding of the Terran culture was often lacking, but he had a distinctly sinking feeling that this was not one of the times he was misinterpreting them.

That meant that he had to consider what to do, what his people would do, in the event the worst happened.

*****

Priminae Training Facility, Ranquil

Colonel Jeremy Reed overlooked the training - his cadre of special forces trainers were still on the job even with the latest intel reports from home. The job didn’t change just because you got bad news, unfortunately, especially when there wasn’t much at all they could do to help even if they were at home.

His men were damn good at what they did, but against a space fleet, there were just limited options for them to intervene.

If those bastards try to land on Earth and occupy it… well, I’d almost pity them, He thought with grim amusement.

That was where his particular skillset would be of value, but there were plenty of others already at home who could do as well. In the meantime, while waiting for news, he would continue to ensure that the Priminae had a well mustered ground force for their own defensive needs.

The locals were game as hell, and certainly didn’t lack for courage. It had been a pleasure to see them develop the skills he and the others had to teach them since they’d come to Ranquil… but Reed honestly was worried that they just didn’t have the instinct for it.

You could have all the skill in the world, but there was an element that couldn’t be taught by any conventional means. Most folk tended to call it the killer instinct, or a fighting blood, or some other such thing. Reed didn’t have a term he really liked, and tended to use one of many all depending on the situation, but the core of the issue was that he worried that the soldiers he was helping train would hesitate or even be unable to actually fight when the time came.

It wasn’t an uncommon issue, even on Earth. Fewer than one in ten soldiers in some wars had actually been able to fire with a real intent to kill most of the time, unless truly pushed. He could see that same issue here with the Priminae.

What concerned him was that he wasn’t sure that they’d be able to make that decision even in the face of a direct threat to themselves or their comrades.

For rather obvious reasons there wasn’t any reasonable way to test that.

Part of him figured that they were people, same as any other person, and that in the end even those who might not fight for themselves would fight for their buddies. To that end, he’d ensured that the trainers emphasized the esprit de corps, the shared blood, among the trainees. Making sure that they saw each other as family, or even closer.

There was another part of him, though, a rational cynical part he believed… that part questioned whether they could truly be considered human in some ways. Not whether they were human, exactly, but whether he could safely assume that they would react as he’d come to expect humans to do so.

The most highly skilled fighter in the world, hell in the galaxy, would lose to a brawler if he lacked fighting spirit while the brawler had it in spades. Skill only mattered after you made the decision to fight.

He and the others had to ensure that this group made that choice.

All their lives might depend on it.

*****

Nero was not a boisterous man.

The world he’d grown up on had been one of the wild ones the Priminae maintained near to its natural state for those who, like him, preferred a simpler approach to life that relied on what was accomplished with one’s own hands. He was not against technology, or any such thing, he just didn’t prefer it for his own day to day life.

The nature of his world had led him to joining the local defense force, mostly for search and rescue operations and the like. There was little need for soldiers, as he’d come to know the term, though such minor incidents did happen from time to time.

Not all Priminae were peaceful, contrary to the impression he knew they left.

Most, but not all.

He’d done well in that position, leading to his eventual recruitment into the larger service and relocation to Ranquil. Even here, though, he didn’t live in the mega-populace, but rather had a small home in one of the natural areas.

His entire life now felt like it was leading to this moment in time, and… the torturous thing of it all was that there was nothing he could do about any of it.

He was a leader of men, not a command of starships, and this enemy were unlikely to land forces… not on Earth, at least, and that appeared to be their goal.

Perhaps they would deign to treat differently with the Priminae. He could not say one way or another, but in this moment all he could feel was frustration.

How bad must it be for those here from Earth? To be so far from the fight, and still feel the same thing I do… knowing that even if they were back there, nothing they could do would matter?

Maddening.

*****

Imperial World Kraike

“Ships movements as reported thus far, Your Majesty.”

“I see them,” Emilia Starsbane said quietly, otherwise ignoring the people around her.

Eleven fleets had now been committed, a total of three hundred and forty warships combined with the parasite destroyers attached to many of them. It would likely be far more than needed, of course, but she was through playing with the Xeno, attempting to be conservative and careful with her forces.

They’d learned a lot with the probing missions, but the costs were too high to continue, particular since the Xeno were almost certainly building up with every passing day.

She would be, after all.

“Your Majesty, please… a word?”

Emilia turned, only half interested in the speaker. He was one of the ministers, assigned from an outlying world. Not a border world, precisely, but far from the core planets to be certain.

“Yes?”

“My world…”

“Nevari, I know.”

“Your mind is as impressive as your visage, Your Majesty…”

Emilia would honestly prefer not to deal with all the simpering compliments. She’d long ago burned out any faith in their sincerity, and that just made each feel like a grating insult when it came at her. Her father, however, advised rather firmly against executing the fools for anything quite so minor.

She’d only considered it once, and not even seriously… really! Her father, however, always seemed to know.

Emilia shook herself back to reality, forcing herself to listen to the meandering of the fool in front of her, and wished that he would get to the point.

“So, you can see Your Majesty, the people are concerned with the sudden reassignment of the fleet…”

Of course.

She sighed, internally but didn’t let it show.

“The people will have to deal in the moment, Minister,” she said coolly. “The fleet is needed to deal with a threat to the Empire, one that cannot be permitted to remain in place any longer.”

“Of course…” he bowed, three times, as he backed away.

Now she did sigh, visibly, but still kept it small enough to be deniable.

“You never did have the patience for this aspect of your duties, daughter,” her father said with an easy smile as he appeared at her side.

She glanced aside at him, then smiled as she relaxed. His presence always warmed her, bringing back the feelings of her youth.

“I know, you’ve told me many times,” she said easily, noting that everyone that had been pushing in to see her were now suddenly interested in other matters.

Her father’s presence had that effect, it seemed. She wished she could manage as much.

“The fleet operations have begun in earnest,” he told her, looking to the display.

Emilia nodded, turning back to the same for herself.

“We will end this threat, now and forever.”

“As my lovely daughter wills it,” the former Emperor smiled before turning to her. “On other matters…”

Emilia felt an urge to bolt, as she often had when younger. Her father shifting topics like that never boded well.

“Yes…?” She asked, mouth drying slightly as she looked askance at him.

“Oh, don’t be that way, child,” he chuckled at her. “I merely want to remind you of another duty.”

Emilia frowned, thinking, “what duty would that be?”

“An heir, my child,” he chided her, amused as she blushed. “Come now, a lovely little daughter perhaps? Someone to walk in your footsteps, learn from your wisdom?”

“I am hardly so wise,” she mumbled, looking away.

“Nevertheless,” he said easily. “It is time to begin considering such.”

“I… will consider it.”

Her father just smiled beatifically before nodding to her and stepping away, leaving her to look back at the displays and try to focus on what she was seeing rather than thinking about her father’s last words.

Damn him.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan looked over the damage control reports with satisfaction.

The passing engagement with the Oather ships had been handled well, and given him time to properly integrate his new crews with the old as well as get Misrem’s measure, and that of her crews.

Thus far he could find no serious complaints, but Jehan still made careful notes of anything that had not been done just so, because he knew that the worst of the campaign had yet to come.

The anomalous species will not be gentle in their reactions, he knew too well.

Their ships would engage fiercely, with almost a lack of concern for their own mortality.

In that, they fought like Imperials.

Their weapons, and their innate willingness to resort to the insane when pushed to the wall made them a threat beyond that which the Oathers were capable.

However, none of that was truly what concerned him, nor was it what had held the Empire at bay this long.

That superweapon. We still known nothing about it.

He couldn’t say that he didn’t understand the Empress’s decision to end this now, regardless of the costs, but he wondered if she truly understood what the costs were likely to be.

Jehan had surrendered his honor in the last invasion, specifically because he didn’t know just how badly that weapon would maul the Empire… however he did know that it would do vastly more damage than any one planet… no matter how dangerous… was worth.

Her Majesty clearly felt differently, though, and he could not gainsay her that authority.

It was not his job to make strategy, it was merely his duty to enact it.

Even so, Jehan could not help but feel a deep forboding for what he expected would be coming.

Her Majesty’s command was clear, though.

No matter what, push the assault. End the threat.

His mind went to the final line in the orders she had dispatched.

Even if they threaten the Imperial Tower itself. Even Her Majesty’s own life.

End the threat. Even if the capitol burned as a result.

Jehan did not know what prompted this reaction, but he had his orders, and he would see them through. No matter what happened.

The abyss will swallow us all.

Chapter 11

Prometheus Facility

Admiral Benoit looked up as a hand computer was dropped unceremoniously on his desk, noticing that the perpetrator of said dropping was already turned back around and halfway to the door.

“Hey!” He snapped, glaring at Dr Palin’s back. “What the hell?”

“You wanted it decrypted, it’s decrypted, now leave me to my work,” the irritating scientist bumbled on his way out of the office.

Benoit honestly wanted to bang his head on the desk, but restrained himself as he picked up the hand system the idiot genius had dropped off, flipping it around, and starting to read.

Well, this isn’t unexpected but it’s not good.

The encrypted communications were basically the worst-case scenario he’d been presented with from command .The Empire was on a warpath and it was leading right straight at Earth.

Worse, unless I’m seriously misunderstanding a lot of subtext here, this is reading like a fucking Genocide plan.

Benoit felt a chill, despite being in a climate-controlled office, and quickly set about prepping the decrypted transmissions for a return burst to Earth, along with the decryption keys that Palin had so helpfully left in the file.

The man is a pain in the ass, but my God he’s good at what he does.

Despite the researcher’s protestations, there was zero chance that a lab assistant would have gotten anything out of those decryptions… let alone done it this fast. Palin just saw communication differently than most, and like many true geniuses, he seemed to think that it was all so very obvious and that anyone should be able to do it.

Benoit, not for the first time, decided that the man’s talents more than made up for his lack of… well, almost everything else.

It was perhaps telling that this was a decision he’d had to make monthly, at a minimum, since he took over the Prometheus base.

*****

Space Station Liberty, Earth Orbit

“Comm pulse, Ma’am! It’s from Prometheus. Eyes only.”

“I’ll take in my office.”

Gracen immediately got to her feet and headed for the aforementioned office, not wanting to waste any time with an eyes-only pulse from Prometheus. The alien gravity lens observatory was Humanity’s single biggest ace in the hole. It was, in fact, almost certainly the only thing that had held off the Empire this long.

The threat of a blazing pillar of flame appearing from literally nowhere and igniting steel and ceramic armor like it was paper had put even the arrogant powers that be within the Empire on their heels, for a time at least.

Earth’s governments had high hopes that the threat of mutually assured destruction would be sufficient to hold the Empire at bay, much as it kept the superpowers of the day from nuking one another… and everyone else… to hell and back during the Cold War.

That was a rapidly dwindling hope, to say the least.

Gracen secured her office and quickly got on the computer, finding that it was a decryption of the Empire’s current Rules of Engagement, as they’d changed.

And there goes the last of that dwindling hope.

There was a numb disbelief, she found, in staring at orders to a military force that effectively required them to commit genocide. She’d read about such things in history, of course, but had never seen it in person. Even the Bloc, for all the issues they had with the west, had been better than that during the war.

Still, as sobering as it was to see in print, it wasn’t really news to her.

What was important, however, were the decryption keys that had been sent along with the message.

I need to get these out to all our ships, Gracen thought.

Unfortunately, that was a bit of an issue, mostly when it came to the smaller vessels. Communications with Rogues and the Archangels tended to be relegated primarily to specified meet ups, mostly for power reasons.

I’ll get it out to Eric first, and he can distribute it farther as the opportunity presents.

She quickly made up a new file and queued it for the next pulse comm transmission, making certain that the priority was high enough to get it directly into Eric’s hands upon reception.

With that done, Gracen shifted her attention to the ongoing projects under her watch. The Kardashev network had finished its diagnostics and all currently active satellites had reported back with a green response. They had more being produced, of course, but there was a fine line they had to walk with the system as it was built.

Every unit that was in the process of assembling a copy of itself was, essentially, taken off the network for the duration of the build. That generally meant a hair over a week per unit. Early on they ran one hundred percent production levels, prioritising the establishment of the network over actual defense, however that wasn’t feasible if they wanted to have the network intact when it was needed.

At the moment, they had ten percent reproducing at any given time, with the other ninety percent gathering power and feeding it to storage, other units, or elsewhere as needed.

It was still an exponential building curve, just a much flatter initial ramping up pace compared to a doubling ever week or so.

It would be nice if the Empire had given us a nice clean schedule for their assault, but I guess basic manners is too much to ask for.

Gracen allowed herself a wry smile at that thought before she moved on to other projects under her purview.

*****

Conference Room, Private Hotel, NYC

The Majestic was a hotel with a storied past, most of which no one in the public knew and only a handful still alive even had heard hints of in its entirety. More business deals had been signed in this one building than in all the banks in the city combined, at least in terms of real money value.

Now, however, it was home to a meeting of a very different sort with one Burt Conners standing at the head of the table.

“Before we begin,” he said firmly. “I have to insist that everyone is scanned for recorders. There will be no digital record made of this discussion.”

The men and women at the table all grumbled at that, but none voiced any real objections as the scanning team came around. Phones were dropped into secured boxes, faraday blocked and soundproofed, while any other small electronics were simply bagged up and taken out of the room to be returned when the meeting was over.

Pens and pads of paper were provided, in case any present needed reminders.

“This better be good, Burt. I had a special date scheduled tonight.” one of the men sent him a look that was annoyance crossed with braggadocio.

“Efrem, we’re all aware of your… ‘romantic’ habits,” Burt rolled his eyes, really not caring to hear about any more of the man’s conquests.

Yes, being worth billions tended to make it easy to get laid, no matter what your tastes were, but most people wanted their private lives to be private. Efrem seemed more intent on normalizing some of the less palatable actions he and his family undertook.

Nothing insanely unconscionable, of course, but certainly more than a few… distasteful habits had been on the table more than once. Burt himself worked to a simple rule. Whatever someone was willing to admit to in public was a good measure of how much they were hiding in the shadows. So, he tried to keep his distance from Efrem’s drama, just on the hunch that there was a lot more there than had yet filtered into the public eye.

He looked around at those gathered, most of the top money people in the country… and a couple other countries... were present. CM technology made low orbital transport a viable technology, and that meant you could get anywhere, from anywhere, with just a couple hours notice these days.

“A couple days ago I put together a recruitment pitch,” he told them, getting bored looks in response. Not surprising, they’d all been recruiting for their little projects, after all. “A pitch I delivered when I had a chance to meet with Commodore Weston, now Vice Admiral Weston for the record.”

That made them sit up a little straighter.

Both the target of the pitch, but also the new promotion.

Military’s promotions, particularly flag promotions, were generally on a schedule with a little room here and there to fit in the ceremony when it was most convenient. All of them knew that while Weston likely deserved the promotion, it was certainly off schedule and that almost always spoke of something unusual happening.

“Oh Jesus,” Jeffery Peck rolled his eyes. “What happened now?”

“Unknown,” Burt admitted wearily. “But whatever it is, it’s big and I’m pretty sure we’re on a clock.”

That was dropping a grenade in the mix, he noted with some dark amusement.

Excited talking broke out, with the various billionaires present all trying to talk over one another without any attempt at actual understanding. He let it run for a bit because he was well aware of the nature of this crowd.

Most people tended to think of things in ranking terms, even wealth. Richest man in the world was a title that people thought actually meant something.

It didn’t.

Truthfully, almost all of the wealth in this room was imaginary. Just numbers on a spreadsheet. Burt had known more than one Billionaire and pretend billionaires who lived month to month, barely covering bills with their actual liquid asset incomes. Most of their wealth was locked up in stock, along with investors money, and that made it… difficult to liquidate.

After a certain level, it was actually impossible to properly determine true wealth versus imaginary wealth. Everyone who cared to count coups just used the imaginary numbers.

Anyone with a quarter of a braincell didn’t bother with either.

The people in this room could afford, and had opted to invest in, starships. Honestly, that was as rich as rich got these days.

“My contacts in the military and the government had officially shut down all avenues of questioning in this regard,” he said.

“And unofficially?”

“My first warning along those lines came from Weston himself, and he told me that he wished me all the best speed in my endeavors… and the same to anyone else with similar plans. And yes, he emphasized the word speed.”

That quieted them down, Burt noted with satisfaction.

“I called this little meeting as a courtesy,” he told him firmly. “If you’re not happy with that, you can feel free to leave. Otherwise, I think we might be able to help one another. Efrem, last I heard you’ve been unable to source enough Titanium for ablative shielding?”

The billionaire in question grimaced but nodded finally.

“Well, Andre,” Burt looked over to another member. “You can help with that, I believe?”

“I could,” The Russian said after a moment. “What is there in it for myself?”

Burt resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the predictable response.

“Well, I happen to have a stockpile of next generation blade servers,” He said. “Enough to put together a respectable cluster computing setup.”

“Da,” The Russian nodded. “Am listening now.”

“Good. I suggest we all start figuring out how we can get all of our projects moving just that much faster then. Let’s get to work.”

*****

Prometheus Facility

Edward Palin was not a man who bothered much with details outside his interests.

In his experience, there wasn’t much he could do about such things anyway, and so expending any effort on them was a waste of his energy and time. Still, after decoding the Empire’s orders to their fleets, the Linguistic and Coding specialist found it difficult to think about other things… even his things.

In some academic way, he supposed he’d known quite some time ago that the Empire was crazy enough to be this stupid. Once they’d managed to link the Drasin to Imperial actions that much became quite clear, after all.

It was a very different matter to be faced with it, however, and he couldn’t really shake that message from his mind. A set of official orders that, in effect, not only permitted but required a military genocide to take place.

That was not mere insanity, it went beyond that.

The actions of the insane could not be tolerated at this level, even he was aware enough to realize that.

And yes, Palin was well aware how others saw him. For the most part, he simply didn’t care.

This, however, was very different.

Getting up, Edward moved away from the personal projects and investigations he’d been making into the ancient repository of data they’d found on site. Most of it was astronomical data, unsurprisingly. Incredibly valuable to astronomers, of course, but without more context it was of limited use to effectively anyone else and context was something he’d not yet been able to provide in every example.

No, instead he gravitated to the Imperial signals and the codes they used.

There were more there, ones he hadn’t broken yet because they didn’t have a priority high enough for the Admiral in charge to come busting down his door and make demands… but in the wake of the one he had decoded, Palin decided that they were worth a closer look.

*****

Archangel Lead, Gaia’s Revenge

The squadron slowed below the lightspeed threshold as they approached the Priminae system the Empire had asked them to cause a little trouble at.

The initial request from the Fleet Commander had been rather casual, and Steph hadn’t thought too much about it then. Since that time, the actions of the Empire had put everything in a different context to say the least and he found himself questioning everything as he looked over the initial lightspeed limited returns they were scanning.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he said. “I don’t see any sign of Imperial watch dogs.”

“That don’t mean they ain’t there, boss,” Tyke cautioned.

“Don’t I know it,” Steph sighed.

It put him in a tight spot, one he wasn’t certain of the best way out of either.

If he continued with his ‘orders’ from the Imperial side of things, he’d keep the Archangel’s cover intact, but the price of that would be potentially screwing up Allied response to the current threat. With the threat in question being an existential one, that was about the last thing he wanted.

However, there was a lot to be said about keeping their cover intact until the right time.

Steph gritted his teeth, “Fine. Signal the others, we’re doing this.”

“Yes sir. I’ll spread the word.”

*****

Chapter 12

NACS Odysseus

“Transition alarm ending. Say again, secure from Transition stations. Alarm is ending.”

Eric groaned as he rolled out of bed, his stomach dearly wanting a conversation with his brain, neither of which being in any condition to hold up their side of the discussion.

Ugh. Maybe trying to sleep through the Transition wasn’t the best of ideas, he supposed as he sucked in a few breaths and got to his feet, stretching out the soreness.

It wasn’t his first time trying to sleep through the unpleasantness of a transition, and it had of course been tried by many before him with mixed results at best. Sometimes you slept through it, with no issues, and other times you got the mother of all sleep paralysis leading into a nightmarish plunge across the galaxy while your head wasn’t really in any position to comprehend the situation.

He made his way over to the washroom and quickly got cleaned up. There was no rush, but he felt like crap until he got himself washed up for the day. A glance at the time told him that they were on schedule, heading into Ranquil on the planned schedule.

He needed a discussion with Rael, and it needed to be face – to - face given the nature of the current situation. Eric wasn’t certain just how that was going to play out, but he had a fair guess.

The Priminae weren’t ready for what was coming, even less so than Earth was, and he needed to try and make sure that their leadership, at least, had some idea. If they didn’t get that through their heads, Eric really didn’t want to think of the consequences.

Finally finished cleaning up, Eric got his uniform from the closet and set out to make himself ready for the day.

*****

“Signal from the planet, Ma’am. We’ve been challenged.”

“Coded response, as to protocol,” Miram ordered, not even looking up from the work she was focused on. “It’s just SOP, Ensign.”

“Yes Ma’am. Response sent… no return yet.”

Miram masked the sigh she felt inside, deigning to glance up, “Ensign. The Challenge was lightspeed limited. Check your ranges, then update your expectations.”

The young man at the console flushed, double checking the data he had one hand before he winced.

“Apologies Ma’am. Expected reply to challenge… four minutes.”

Miram nodded curtly, returning to her work while concerned thoughts swirled through her mind.

Many of their best and most experienced officers had been pulled, unsurprisingly, being sent to their own commands to further bulk out the Terran forces. With properly trained personnel being at such a premium, it was inevitable that the Odysseus and other vessels in the fleet would have more than their normal fair share of neophyte crewmen…

Normally, this would be a bit of an annoyance, but nothing they couldn’t clean up over time.

Currently? Miram was beginning to feel a legitimate concern that the time to clean things up wasn’t something they would be afforded. She discreetly tapped in the code to mirror the communications suite to her console, just to ensure that no major errors were being made.

Thankfully, her concerns appeared to be in error there. Despite having slipped up and not taken the range into consideration, she didn’t see any mistakes on the board, and so left it to the Ensign as she heard a soft chime that indicated the Admiralty’s deck was now occupied.

A gesture brought up the direct channel to the Admiral, and in a few seconds Weston’s face appeared.

“Good Morning, Admiral,” Miram said cheerfully, noting the slightly sallow look in Eric’s face. “Did you have a good transition?”

“Don’t go there, Captain,” Eric shot her a dark smirk. “The Admiral would prefer not to bark or bite this morning.”

“Understood, Sir,” Miram chuckled. “We’re entering the Ranquil system, awaiting challenge response now.”

“Very good, Captain. I’ll be working on some desk work until we hit orbit, if you need me for anything.”

“Looks like clear sailing all the way to port, Sir. Should be fine.”

“As you were then, Captain.”

The display darkened, leaving Miram to go back to her own desk work until a couple minutes later the Ensign again interrupted her focus.

“Challenge received and cleared, skipper.”

“Alright, Nav. Bring us down to Ranquil orbit, follow all local ordnance.”

“Aye Ma’am. Dropping orbital range, new destination set for Ranquil Orbit. Local flight path has been received, clearance authorized. Beginning descent into the system.”

*****

Ranquil

Rael Tanner was looking forward to the arrival of the Terran fleet, it would be good to see the Captain… No, the Admiral, I must remember that he corrected himself. It would be good to see again, at any rate.

The circumstance of the meeting left much to be desired, of course, but it seemed that circumstance was never on their side.

“Admiral, reports on the… group the Terrans have put together.”

Rael frowned, “What?”

“You should see it for yourself, Admiral.”

Rael nodded and crossed the room, looking over the report and then quickly checking the scans the report was based on.

“Oh my, they’ve certainly added a number to their fleet.”

“Yes sir.”

And this is what the Terrans are dispatching out of their system.

It made him wonder just what cards they were holding back in the face of the current threat.

Unfortunately, we are all too likely to find out.

“Very interesting, thank you for bringing it to my attention. As you were.”

“Yes Admiral!”

*****

The Odysseus led the Terran First Fleet into Ranquil orbit, easing into place well above the security altitude they’d been instructed to remain back from.

“Shuttle clearance to the surface has been granted, Admiral.”

Eric nodded, getting to his feet. “Inform the Captain that I will be taking a shuttle to the surface.”

“Yes Sir, Admiral.”

Eric secured his desk work, then headed for the lifts.

This was going to be a short-lived hold over for them, he knew. The First Fleet’s primary task would be to stand as the tip of the spear. Same old job, admittedly, compared to what he’d been doing thus far… the spear had just gotten a lot bigger.

That meant getting the fleet out into the path of the invading forces and beginning a harassment campaign. However, it was generally considered… poor manners at the very least to start running fleet operations in the middle of an ally’s territory without at least letting them know.

He didn’t expect any issues with the Priminae, but even… sometimes especially… in war, manners counted.

*****

Ranquil

Rael was waiting on the upper-level shuttle pad shortly after the watch officer had informed him of Eric’s intentions. It was the same pad, in fact, that they had first met face to face on, quite some time earlier.

His first impression as the Terran shuttle eased into position above the landing zone was that they hadn’t made many changes in their shuttle designs over the intervening time. Compared to how quickly they liked to put new vessels out into space, it struck him as interesting that nothing had apparently changed in this one area.

The big craft was measured in multiples of the Priminae’s own similar craft, but certainly seemed capable enough.

Hovering in place for a moment, as though standing on pillars of flame, the big shuttle eased down into place as it extended gear to take up the weight of the craft. Rael could feel the heat wash off the platform in contrast to the chill air blowing across it at their current altitude over the large pyramid-city.

The big shuttle eased into place, the gear just starting to take up the weight of the craft before the pilot killed its gravity manipulation system and it dropped fully into place with an audible rumble that could be heard above the engines whining down.

Rael smiled as the landing ramp cracked open and a familiar figure, albeit in a new uniform, began walking down before it was fully settled.

“Eric,” Rael walked forward to meet him. “Welcome back.”

“Always a pleasure to be here, Rael,” Eric answered with an easy smile. “I just wish I had time to actually see the sights during one of these visits.”

Rael sighed, his expression a mix of rueful acceptance and serious concern. “We do tend to meet during dark times.”

“Our fate,” Eric said. “Thus far at least.”

Rael nodded soberly, “Congratulations on the promotion, before I forget, Admiral.”

Eric laughed, rolling his eyes, “They gave me more ships, so I needed more authority. Something that tends to happen in war, I suppose.”

“Perhaps, but I have little doubt you deserve it.”

Eric clapped the smaller man on the shoulder as they turned and walked away from the still whining down shuttle. “You are a little biased, I feel, my friend.”

“Nonsense,” Rael countered as they got to the door and stepped inside from the cold air. “What better a reference than someone who has benefited from your skill?”

The door closed behind them as Eric responded.

“Not how the brass sees things, my friend.”

“More’s the pity then.”

*****

Secured within the Priminae control centre, Eric settled into place with Rael in the man’s office.

“So,” Rael said as he took a seat behind the station he worked from, “Dark times indeed.”

Eric nodded, settling into the visitor’s seat. “We’ve intercepted and decoded some of the Imperial Orders. It’s not looking good.”

“I see. The Empire is fixed on their path then?”

“We will find out, but they believe they are,” Eric confirmed. “How fixed is something that we will determine once the gloves fully come off. We’re still holding back a lot while we get ships into position and our people ready for what’s coming.”

“I see,” Rael said carefully. He had believed that the Terrans were holding a few of their tricks back, of course, but was somewhat surprised that Eric would admit it right out in the open that way. “Might I ask to what degree you believe things will change?”

Eric sighed, “Cards on the table, Admiral?”

Rael didn’t quite understand the expression, but he figured that he could put it together from the context.

“If you don’t mind,” he said.

“Well, the Empire’s orders are unambiguous,” Eric said first. “They’re effectively called for genocide.”

Rael grimaced as he nodded in understanding, “A horrific set of orders. I imagine that we’ve determined one of the differences that caused the Priminae to originally break away from the Empire.”

“I would not be surprised,” Eric replied. “With orders like that in the open, we’re not playing games anymore. It’s important that I confer on to you exactly what that means, Admiral…”

Eric took a breath, leaning back as he considered his words.

“I don’t mean to imply that we’ve not taken things seriously to date, that’s not my intent nor is it a reflection of how we’ve handled our interactions with you in the past…”

“I never believed that you had not been taking things seriously, Admiral.” Rael assured the other man.

Eric nodded, “However, we have been playing by rules. Rules that many back home have believed were clearly not being reciprocated, and therefore are rendered null and void. Up unto this point in time, I’ve fought hard to maintain the rules of engagement because it’s my opinion that we are only as good as we hold ourselves to be…”

“And yet this changes that?” Rael asked mildly.

“Yes.” Eric tapped the report with the decrypted Imperial Orders. “These are an official record stating that the Imperial government has decided to murder civilians en-mass.”

Rael looked at the reports briefly, then back at Eric, “And that relieves you of your rules?”

“Legally? Yes. Morally, we will still attempt to reduce civilian losses on the other side,” Eric said heavily. “But civilian infrastructure and such are now on the list of acceptable targets. The second the Empire engages our forces, we’re hitting back. It will not be nice, Admiral.”

Rael nodded slowly, “I suppose that does not surprise me, but will you truly be able to do so?”

Eric resisted the urge to look around the room to ensure no one could overhear him, given that he knew they were alone in the room.

“We didn’t disclose certain tools that are our disposal at the time,” Eric said. “And we’re still… hesitant to do so officially, you understand.”

Rael masked a look of frustration because he did, indeed, understand that. His own council often forced him to suppress certain information out of convenience. He doubted it would be any easier with information on this level, concerning a weapon of power if it were what he was thinking.

“The pillars of flame from nowhere, I presume is the… tool in question?” Rael asked delicately.

“Precisely. For you, and whoever needs to know,” Eric said, stressing the last words. “I’m authorized to disclose… though, oddly enough, the device itself is primarily an academic curiosity.”

That struck Rael as strange, and his expression made that clear, “Truly?”

“Truly,” Eric chuckled softly. “I’ve not been there, but it is an ancient construct… potentially dangerous only within a relatively short firing arc and that is actually completely incidental to the actual use.”

“What is the actual use?” Rael asked, somewhat befuddled.

“It’s an observatory,” Eric said simply, cause Rael to blink as he processed that. “Possibly the finest such device we’ve even conceived of, but merely an exquisite example of a gravity-lens based observatory.”

“Ahm,” Rael said, considering that. “I’ve heard of such, though I confess to never having considered building one. How does that become the superweapon we saw reported?”

“Focus the power of a nearby star through the gravity lens and into a rather large-scale T-Cannon.”

The report from earlier, that Rael had been holding and occasionally thumbing through while they talked, fell from his numb fingers as he processed that.

“Oh dear.” He said slowly. “And you intend to bring that into this war again?”

“We do.”

Rael honestly could say that his mind simply refused to entirely process that.

Terrans have a very peculiar definition of the term… not nice.

Rael would have used the words utterly mad to describe it himself.

Chapter 13

Military Academy, Ranquil

Colonel Reed looked over as the large shuttle eased in for a landing, then checked the time before nodding to himself and setting down what he’d been working on and making his way toward the shuttlepad. He’d been informed that the Admiral was coming in for quick talk about the situation, and Reed’s expected duties as they pertained to such.

He waved to some of the greetings sent his way. Many officers of the new Priminae Military had been through his training, or at least helped him train others as a way of learning themselves. By this point, Reed expected that he likely knew the majority of the local officers by sight if not by name.

The shuttle was landed and disembarking by the time he arrived, throwing a quick salute to the Admiral, who casually returned it without comment as Reed relaxed easily. With someone he didn’t know, he’d likely have been a lot more to the protocols for greeting a superior officer, but Reed had a lot of experience with brass who made their ranks in the field. In the field, they tended to care a lot less about protocol.

Pull that shit back in the world, though, and they’ll take your head off, Reed thought with wry amusement as Weston stepped up beside him.

“Colonel, it’s been too long,” Weston said.

“A difficult few years, for all of us,” Reed nodded. “How have you been?”

“Surviving, despite the universe’s best efforts,” Weston chuckled, though the humor there was veiled at most. “I understand that training has been going well?”

Reed nodded, “The locals have a solid corps now, though still largely untested.”

“Yes, we have been doing most of our fighting in space of late,” Weston said seriously. “I expect that, here at least, that might be coming to an end.”

Reed frowned, “You believe they’ll invade?”

“Once they finish with Earth.”

That was a long damn way from what Reed wanted to hear.

“Not if they finish with Earth?” He asked carefully.

Weston sighed, “We have some outs, but if the Empire refuses to fold the hand… they’ll take us out of the game.”

“Oh Christ, we’re bluffing?” Reed grimaced.

“Not… precisely. We can fuck their shit up,” the Admiral said flat out. “The problem is… they can take the beating and keep coming. If they’re willing to take the beating, there’s not much we can do in the end.”

“How bad a beating are we talking about?” Reed asked, more curious than anything as he expected it would be beyond his paygrade and then some.

“We can turn planets into funeral pyres,” Weston said with no hint of exaggeration. “Given that the location of our strategic weapon is possibly the most highly classified bit of intel we have, if we choose to… we could burn the entire Empire to cinders, even if they nuke us first.”

“Shit. Why aren’t we doing something now then?”

“Strategic weapons, Reed.”

Reed grimaced, but nodded his understanding.

Strategic weapons were very different from tactical weapons. A tactical weapon was, by and large, intended to be used. Strategic weapons, ideally, just gathered dust. The reason being, once you dropped one of those onto the battlefield, all bets were off. The enemy would have no more reason to hold back, so if they weren’t the sort to back off from a threat, all you would manage was to make the situation worse.

You did not deploy a strategic weapon until you were certain that not deploying it was the worse option… because there was no putting that genie in the bottle.

“We considered it,” Weston went on. “But the problem is that their military power is mobile, and getting enough stuck down in one place where we could target them… wasn’t feasible. The only thing hitting their worlds would accomplish…”

“Is putting their military on a suicide mission, got it.” Reed shook his head. “Odds that this will turn them back?”

“Not good.”

The pair walked across the training compound, different groups of soldiers were training in various locations, but neither man was paying attention.

“I already called down a strike on both an Imperial Fleet we had in a holding position in Sol,” Weston said. “And followed it up with a direct hit on a shipyard facility we knew handled military vessels. They know what we can do, and they know we’ll do it.”

Reed closed his eyes, “So if they’re coming now, they’re going to keep coming.”

Eric nodded, “That’s my bet.”

The Special Forces man just grimaced, “I assume you brought orders?”

“You and your people are ordered to fade and integrate, if things go bad,” Eric said. “Help the Priminae with their defense of territories.”

“Not being recalled?” Reed asked stiffly.

“Not unless you request it,” Weston said evenly. “But before you do, you should know that we do not expect the Empire to invade.”

Reed looked away sharply, barely containing his urge to swear at that.

If they’re not expected to invade, then…

“Genocide, Sir? Really?”

Admiral Weston nodded soberly in confirmation, “We currently expect that to be the most likely outcome of this invasion.”

“Why? For God’s sake, that makes no sense.”

“You might have just nailed the reasoning right there,” the Admiral said sourly. “God’s sake.”

Reed groaned, “Religious? Lightyears from Earth, and we’re still dealing with that shit?”

“It’s our best read, at least, though it’s almost more… cultish than religious,” Eric warned. “Most of the Empire doesn’t appear to even know we, or the Priminae, exist… let alone care what we do. At the highest levels, however, there almost appears to be a fanaticism beyond anything we’d consider normal, even on Earth. The Empress apparently considers us to be Xeno and fit only for eradication.”

“The more things change…”

Weston chuckled dryly, “That does seem to be our fate these times.”

Reed nodded absently, but his mind was moving on to other matters.

“My men are going to want to go home,” he said. “Their families…”

“Are all on high priority evacuation lists,” Eric said. “I checked and made certain before I left Earth.”

“Evacuation to where?”

“Classified,” Eric said, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

Reed grimaced, though he supposed that he should have expected as much. Given the nature of the risk, any attempt to move people out of the fighting range would certainly be a heavily classified bit of data.

“I’ll let them know, though I suppose it doesn’t matter. You’re not heading home, are you?”

“Not immediately, certainly, and I doubt I’ll get back to Sol before the Empire… or, not much before them at least,” Eric told him.

“Understood. I’ll let people know, they’ll be grateful of that much at least.”

“I know it’s not much… but,” Weston shrugged helplessly.

“It will have to do.”

*****

Archangel One, Gaia’s Revenge

Steph was irritated as the squadron broke clear of the system’s Heliopause and the thrum of power faded from the deck as they went fully to warp.

He wasn’t irritated because of the performance of the squadron or the like, but rather by the performance of their opposition. The Priminae target they’d struck at, as demanded by their Imperial Contract, hadn’t been a hard target of course. Steph had ordered them in, hitting the production tools and keeping clear of Priminae cruisers on the contractual issue that they were too powerful for the gunboats to deal with.

Strictly speaking, he didn’t actually believe that, but it made for a good excuse.

All issues aside, however, he was frustrated because the mission had gone far too well.

“Shit,” Tyke said into the silence. “I expected them to push us out much earlier.”

“I know,” Steph shook his head, rubbing his face. “I didn’t want, or expect, to cause as much damage as we did. Even being surgical…”

Tyke nodded, with the weapons they had access to… just the ones the Empire knew about at least… they’d been hard pressed to keep the strike from being a slaughter.

“I hope to God the Empire was watching,” Tyke ground out. “Because I really don’t want that to have been for nothing.”

Steph said nothing, but he agreed with the sentiment. When he’d decided to stay on mission, despite the change in Imperial stance, it had been a decision based on the idea that keeping their cover was more valuable than adding one more squadron to the defenders’ side up front.

That logic would be a lot less convincing if the Empire wasn’t even paying attention to what his people were doing.

“What next?”

Steph didn’t need to think too hard about that, for good or ill.

“We stay on mission,” he said firmly.

*****

Priminae Cruiser Benath Shan

“Enemy vessels have departed at FTL velocity, Captain.”

“I see it.”

Captain Nara Milen shook his head, frustrated by the entire situation.

What were they after? And who were they anyway?

The unknown ships were… well, unknown. No design match in any database, far too small to be serious combatants by most descriptions but somehow incredibly fast, nimble, and flown like they were practically precognitive.

“Damage reports, by the numbers, system wide,” he ordered, shaking his head. “Break off pursuit, but remain vigilant. If there’s any sign of a return, I want to be prepared.”

“Yes, Captain… but… we’re not pursuing?”

Milen snorted, “They easily out accelerated us in normal space. I expect we could make up the difference while warping space, because there’s no chance the small cores we read on them could manage as steep a warp incline as we can… but we’d be leaving the system entirely uncovered, and right now that’s not going to happen.”

“Right. Yes sir, I understand.”

Milen still hated the fact that this new enemy, he presumed had to be with the Empire in some fashion because… well, who else would be moving now? He hated the fact that they’d escaped, but there was little to do about it now, other than clean up the mess and drill his people on their mistakes.

At least they didn’t target the populace. That makes for a nice change from normal Imperial tactics.

*****

AEV Boudicca

“Ma’am, energy reports for the trip.”

Sandra Hyatt nodded and signed off on the report, accepting receipt of the files. She had a glance, but noticed that the young officer hadn’t moved.

“Problem, Lieutenant?”

“I…” The Lieutenant seemed hesitant. “I’m not sure, Ma’am.”

“Out with it then,” Sandra ordered. “It’s clearly bothering you enough that you want to bring it up, not is not the time to be holding back.”

“If’s the energy consumption, Ma’am. The numbers don’t seem quite right,” The young man said, shaking his head. “I spent a few hours last shift trying to make sense of them but…”

Hyatt frowned, bringing up the overview and skimming it, “I’m not seeing anything that jumps out at me.”

“No ma’am, not in the overview. Check the consumption reports for the last shift before transitioning,” He suggested.

She did just that, and with the much narrower sliver of data she quickly spotted something that didn’t look right.

“What is this spike?”

“I don’t know, Ma’am, but there are eight more over the run of our movement from Earth to Ranquil,” the Lieutenant informed her.

“That’s not possible. I’d have seen something on the overview,” she countered, flicking through shift reports quickly now. It didn’t take long before she spotted another spike, however.

“Yes Ma’am, you would… if each spike wasn’t accompanied by a nearly perfect mirror spike,” he said, pointing to the reports directly to show what he meant. “It’s like something… suddenly sucked in a ton of power from the system, but then immediately returned it. I don’t understand.”

“Nor do I,” Hyatt said slowly. “But good work spotting and bringing it to me. It might be nothing, but we have to run it down anyway.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Hyatt leaned back, considering it briefly before handing the reports back to the Lieutenant. “Run these down to the chief, show him what you showed me. I’ll call ahead.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Dismissed.”

Hyatt watched him go briefly before turning her mind to the anomaly. It likely wasn’t anything, since power use wasn’t something that ‘balanced out’ like that. She expected it was almost certainly a sensor failure, but it had to be run down along with the other million or so minor issues the Bo was dealing with after the repairs they’d received.

We need time before being thrown back into the meat grinder, damn it.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of that to go around.

Time, that is.

The enemy controlled the clock now, which was a damned stupid position to be in…

If only we had a choice.

*****

Chapter 14

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan Mich watched from the observation deck as the Third Fleet was joined by the Fifth. The addition of another twenty heavy cruisers to his battle wall was always welcome, but with the integration of another complete fleet, he was also facing a fragmentation of the chain of command.

That was certainly going to prove a frustrating addition to his days in the time going forward.

By this point, we’ve certainly been monitored, and our movements have been reported, Jehan knew that without question. Even if they hadn’t spotted enemy ships retreating ahead of their advance, he’d have made the assumption that they’d just somehow missed the scouts and spotters put into place for just this sort of affair.

The enemy they were about to engage was not a foolish one, for all that they were chaotic and reckless in the extreme. There were a single planet polity that had managed to repulse a full blown Drasin invasion.

This was a fact that he knew that his fellow Fleet Commanders, for the most part, were not ready to properly integrate into their thinking.

Jehan foresaw a great deal of frustration in his immediate future.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“The Third Fleet has transmitted a welcome, My Lord.”

“How very kind of them,” Lord Commander Durwich Gavin gestured idly, dismissing the man and the message with the single motion.

The messenger got the hint and retreated as Durwich looked over to his Second, Ship’s Commander Evy Narim.

“You’ve met with the former Lord Mich,” he said. “Thoughts?”

Evy tilted her head slightly to one side, as though thinking, an affectation she had never quite managed to be done of to his knowledge.

“Intelligent, one tracked while on a mission, and well respected by his crews., she answered.

Durwich snorted, “An easy pushover then, when it comes to discipline, I’d wager.”

She merely shrugged, not commenting, since he hadn’t asked for it.

“His loss against these… insects… makes me question Her Majesty’s judgement. He should have been removed from Command, not merely his Lordship, and been sent permanently to some outlying territory where he couldn’t disrupt the proper military handling of this situation.”

“As you say, My Lord.”

Durwich got up and walked past the ship’s commander, forcing her to turn to follow as he came to a stop at the observation section. The open and clear section of the ship allowed a look out on the abyss beyond. Normally closed and covered by armored shutters, it made for a spectacular place to conduct the Empire’s business under the right circumstances.

Right now, was hardly those.

Nothing but empty space and the softly blinking and slowly moving lights of the fleet were visible, though the later were coming closer as they got ready to join forces.

“Did you know the last time the Empire employed a combined fleet like this?” he asked out of the blue.

“No, My Lord.”

“Neither did I,” Durwich admitted. “So I looked it up.”

The silence stretched between them for a long moment before Evy realized she was expected to ask.

“What did you find, My Lord?”

“A single mention, older than the Empire as we know it,” Durwich said through a scowl. “All records of the cause, of the enemy they gathered to defeat… deleted from the records. Nothing there anymore beyond the fact that it happened, and that it predates Imperial history as we know it.”

Evy frowned, “Truly?”

He looked back at her, an eyebrow raised. “Truly, Commander.”

Evy shook her head. “So long and now Her Majesty orders us thusly?”

“It is more concerning than that,” Durwich admitted. “But you’ve not seen the official orders.”

“No, I have not,” she admitted. “merely the redacted ones.”

“Mmm,” he hummed as he stared out into the abyss. “There was an addendum to the orders, not even redacted from the version you saw… rather, it was removed entirely as though it had never been.”

“I… don’t understand.”

“I do,” Durwich said darkly. “And I want you to understand me, Commander, when I say that we must end this campaign as quickly as possible - no delays will be tolerated.”

He turned around, fixing her with a glare. “I say this because Fleet Commander Mich has already showed himself too soft for what is likely to come. If he impedes our mission, I will give the order to have his ship destroyed without hesitation. Prepare yourself to make that order a reality, if and when the time comes.”

Evy swallowed, resisting the urge to fall back from the stare he was fixing her with.

“I will, My Lord.”

*****

Archangel One, Gaia’s Revenge

A light tap on the door to his office caused Steph to look up curiously, seeing Milla standing there and looking more nervous than he’d seen in her for quite some time.

“Come on in,” he said easily. “Take a load off, tell me what has you wound up.”

Milla nodded, almost scuttling into the room the way she was practically folded in on herself.

“I know I’m not… experienced in the ways of war,” she said after taking a seat. “But… what we just did…”

“Ah,” Steph nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

“Those were my people.”

“Which is why we carefully avoided casualties, Milla.”

“Yes, I am aware… however…”

“It’s not easy, playing the OpFor, even when it’s a game,” Steph said after a time. “When it’s for real… yeah, I get it.”

“But why?”

“Because by keeping our cover, by reinforcing our cover,” Steph said firmly. “We might position ourselves to better serve our people. I guess I should have expected it to bother you, even though we talked about it first. Working undercover is… one of the hardest jobs you can draw. Don’t worry, I doubt we’ll have to do it again.”

Milla looked up, surprise warring with hope. “Really?”

“Really,” Steph set aside his desk work, rising to his feet to stretch out. “Originally, we were slated to hit both Priminae and Terran infrastructure over several weeks and months, but I think the Empire’s recent actions is going to rewrite this rules.”

Steph wished he had more room to move, or some nice view to look out on, but the cramped confines of the gunboats didn’t exactly allow for either.

“Chances are they’re too busy to be paying any attention to us anyway, though we couldn’t be sure of that which is why we hit the last target anyway,” Steph said. “But I expect that the Empire is either going to give us new orders at our next drop meeting…”

“Or?”

Steph smiled ferally. “Well our own government has already issued new instructions for us. They don’t know exactly what to do with a small squadron like ours, especially considering how close we’ve managed to ingratiate ourselves with the enemy… so they left it up to me.”

Step walked out from around his desk. “I only hit the last target because it was old infrastructure, of little value to the war effort, and by hitting it I should have secured our cover if the Empire had spotters in place. We’ll need that… soon.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will,” Steph said easily. “Don’t worry. You will.”

*****

Prometheus Facility

Benoit scowled as he read through the intercepted communications they’d been able to decode through Palin’s work.

The Empire is pushing hard, no question, but… unless I’m mistaking something here, they’re going about it in a rather rudimentary fashion.

Granted, he doubted that would matter all that much, given that the confirmed numbers of ships so far assigned to the action easily tripled the hulls that the Priminae and Terran forces could match… and that assumed that every Terran hull could be crewed and made to fighting form.

Two things that he was unfortunately aware were not possible.

He queued up the messages by order of priority, and set them to be sent through the next scheduled burst transmission to Earth.

One benefit of working in a facility that literally captured a significant portion of a star’s output to run was that power was rarely a serious consideration for operations. They didn’t transmit often, even so, because Tachyon communications were… not precisely easy to backtrack to a location, but not exactly difficult either.

All one had to do was be in the general line between the two communicating positions, and you’d have pretty solid directionality for the signal.

In space that was a problem, of course, because directionality without range was generally worse than useless. There was just far too much area to search for it to be a feasible action… however, the Prometheus facility was located in close orbit of a star with few others in the immediate neighborhood.

If someone wanted to take a gamble, well there was every chance that they’d be paid off.

So short bursts with highly encoded digital format would keep any chance of signal intercepts to a minimum, while their own satellite constellation had been dotted through the local system to provide good targeting data on any approaching ships.

Ultimately, though, Prometheus’ strength depended on it remaining a secret.

An ironic and… almost tragic situation for what was certainly built as a practical temple of learning, Benoit thought tiredly.

*****

Doctor Edward Palin had tried to go back to his normal work after the decryption programs had finished their job, but he found that he was actually bothered by what he’d read in the Empire’s communique.

This was… an uncommon situation for him. Normally he could care less for the actions of the military, but not a lot less. They were a means to an end for him, and had been through his entire adult life.

Palin had been recruited while he was still in high school. The top universities had wanted him and he’d been collecting scholarship offers… but the war happened, and a man from the Company… as he’d so amusingly put it… appeared on his doorstep one morning before class.

Palin had packed up and left home that same day - he hadn’t even gone into the school again. His mother had passed away some years earlier, and his father was an academic himself who, often as not, forgot he had a son.

The CIA provided him with resources the likes of which he’d only been able to dream of previously, and in exchange they merely wanted some boring decryption done. Bloc activities, planned campaigns, those sorts of things.

Nothing that truly mattered, as far as he was concerned. One group of authoritarian bastards was little different from another in his opinion, though he was gratified that the Confederation had managed to put a stop to the Bloc advance… if they hadn’t, he doubted he’d have had any chance of getting high enough clearance to get assigned offworld if, even, the Bloc had made that move the way the Confederation had.

This, however, was different.

The Bloc, however much some might have considered them evil during the war, had never planned for Genocide.

What he’d read in the Imperial Communique… bothered him.

Palin actually found some humor and… relief? Almost?... in that fact.

For a long time, he’d wondered if he were perhaps incapable of empathy. It didn’t bother him, exactly, but it had been a question that bothered him. He could have accessed his CIA mental report, he supposed, to tell him whether he was considered a sociopath or not… but he didn’t think it mattered. He had no desire to inflict harm on anyone, after all, he just didn’t care for anyone in any really deep way.

Never had.

Now, however, Palin discovered that he did… in fact… have some sense of empathy.

He didn’t want to see his planet murdered.

The idea of it… bothered him. Deeply.

That was a novel experience, Palin had to admit. One that he both disliked intensely, but also found himself cherishing for the novelty of it.

The problem, of course, came from a very simple aspect of his personality.

Normally, if he cared about a problem… he solved the problem. It was what he lived to do, and this facility he now worked within? It was… not a dream assignment. That would have implied that he’d been capable of imagining a place like this before coming to it.

No, it was more than a dream. It was his world now, far more than Earth ever had been or ever could be… there were more problems here that he cared to solve than he could get around to if he lived a thousand years.

And yet…

Palin’s eyes moved over to the decryption files he’d made up for the Imperial communications.

Damn it.

Grumbling, Palin left his work as it was, unfinished, and walked back over to the communications records.

If there was a problem he cared about, Palin would solve it.

Even if he didn’t have damn clue how to get started.

Congratulations, Empire… whatever you call yourselves, Palin thought darkly. You just became a problem to solve.

*****

Chapter 15

NACS Odysseus, Ranquil Orbit

“Ma’am, there’s something you should check out, I think?”

Miram looked over, expression curious. The request had come from an unusual direction. The communications officer usually brought messages, not something she could ‘check out’.

“What is it?” Miram asked as she approached.

“Honestly, no one seems sure,” The young officer, a Ensign Straight, as she recalled, admitted with an embarrassed look. “It started with some odd readings from the Boudicca, Ma’am.”

“Odd how?” Miram frowned as she leaned in.

“Power fluctuations, Ma’am”

Miram stiffened; those were a couple words you didn’t want to hear about when your power core was a singularity. Nice little easy ways to solve problems like a full reactor meltdown were by far preferred compared to the idea of a singularity suddenly becoming self-sustaining on you.

“Show me the readings,” she ordered.

“Ah… yes ma’am?” Straight mumbled, looking a little lost as he dug through the transcripts he had open on his system.

Miram held back her impatience, remembering that the young man had just rotated on board a few weeks earlier, and made herself wait for him to finish. It wasn’t crunch time, so she could afford to be understanding and let the young man get his job figured out on his own merits.

Finally, he found what he was looking for and loaded the file, leaning out of her way so she could look at the numbers.

“Huh, that’s odd,” she said slowly, thinking about what she was looking at.

Abruptly, Miram straightened up and spun on her heel.

“Ma’am?” He called after her.

“As you were, Ensign. I’ll look into it, thank you for the heads up.”

“Uh, yes Ma’am.”

*****

Miram stalked toward her office, mind awhirl with her thoughts.

She’d seen numbers like that before, once.

“Odysseus,” she called out as soon as she entered her office, the door sliding shut behind her.

“Ma’am,” the Entity responded as if he’d always been right there at her side.

Which, in a way, he had been.

“You know what I’m thinking,” she said, fixing the entity with a gaze.

“I do, but I cannot say,” Odysseus admitted with a shrug. “Your hypothesis seems… possible, however.”

Miram sighed, nodding as she thought it through. “Very well. Can you confirm it?”

The entity hesitated, something that was relatively out of character for him she knew, but after a moment he nodded.

“I may be able to, if we move closer.”

“Right,” Miram said, now it being her turn to hesitate.

For fairly obvious reasons, she would prefer to not bring a second singularity… particularly the one her ship was wrapped around… over next to one that may not be stable.

Or, worse, maybe too stable.

“Very well,” she said. “I’ll make some queries first, and will let you know.”

“I will be waiting.”

*****

Sandra Hyatt scowled as she looked over the next report of… well, many.

After the first reports of fluctuations in the power systems, more reports had begun to filter in, and she didn’t know what to make of most of them.

She was trying to make something of them when her system chimed, getting her attention.

Reaching out, Sandra waved a hand over the scanner to accept the call.

“Captain Heathe for you, Ma’am.”

“Put her through,” Sandra ordered, waiting a moment for the picture to shift, showing the Captain of the Odysseus a moment later. “Captain.”

“Miram, please,” the Captain said quickly, waving off the protocols.

“Sandra then, if we’re being casual,” Sandra smiled wearily. “It has been a while since we’ve had time to talk.”

“Sadly, I doubt we’ll get much time just now,” Miram said seriously. “This is off the record, but the issues you’re having reached my attention.”

Sandra grimaced but nodded without much surprise. “We’re still looking to lock down the source, but…”

Miram gestured idly. “I’m sure that you’re doing all reasonably possible, that’s not my concern at the moment. I have a question, however, that I would very much like the answer to.”

Sandra blinked, but nodded slowly, “If I can…”

Miram nodded encouragingly. “Don’t worry. I don’t expect the questions to be difficult to answer. Really, I just want to know if you’ve had any reports of people… seeing things, or feeling like they were being watched?”

Sandra leaned back, face a mask of confusion as she looked involuntarily down at the reports in front of her.

“How did…”

“Because it happened here, Sandra,” Miram answered. “I’ll assume that response is an affirmative?”

Sandra nodded, “What’s going on?”

“I’m going to bring the Odysseus closer to the Boudicca,” Miram said. “I might be wrong, but this will allow us to confirm it.”

Sandra glared at the screen, but before she could say anything, Miram shook her head.

“I apologize, it’s just that I noticed some… similar patterns to when Odysseus appeared.”

Sandra sat suddenly, face paling as she recognized what her fellow Captain was referencing.

“Oh God, we’ve been looking for damages missed during the repairs, but…”

“But,” Miram nodded. “I’m going to dispatch Odysseus on a… mission to the Bo. He will be instructed to check in with you first before anything else.”

“Understood,” Sandra got herself settled. “Thank you, Captain.”

“Not at all, just… spotting a pattern. I may be wrong.”

“I honestly don’t know whether to hope you are or not.”

Miram smiled thinly. “Despite the occasional confusion he’s caused, Odysseus is crew now. I have no doubt that the Bo will adapt as well.”

“The Bo as in the crew, or…?” Sandra asked wryly.

“Yes,” Miram told her with a grin. “I’ll get back to you shortly with more information.”

Sandra nodded as the screen flickered and went back.

Well, she thought worriedly, Why do I have the feeling that everything somehow got more complicated for us?

It would be a fine time for it, she figured. Nothing like throwing random new variables at people who were already in the middle of a warzone.

Sandra sighed wearily, setting aside the reports now that she had a feeling that they were superfluous to needs.

It’s going to be a long day.

*****

NACS Odysseus

Miram was silent for a moment as the screen went dead, the quiet of the empty office a luxury for her to submerge in with her thoughts. Only a moment, however, because she had precious little time for luxuries.

“You heard.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I did.” Odysseus said as he stepped out of a blindspot in her vision, causing Miram to shudder.

“I hate it when you do that,” she said tersely.

“I believe it’s been mentioned,” The entity said with a smile. “I do apologize.”

“Bullshit,” Miram muttered, shaking her head. “Can you do it?”

“Cross to the Bo and look for another like me?” He asked, more to vocalize the task than to question her meaning. “I believe so. However, I am not certain that I will be able to locate another… even if there is one like myself there, it may opt to hide or disguise itself.”

“Understood. We’ll need you to try anyway.”

“I will endeavor to do so,” Odysseus said with a hint of a smile. “My first… official assignment, I believe? Exciting.”

“Just keep things from becoming too exciting over there, alright?” Miram ordered. “If there is something wrong with their core, you’re our best chance at finding the issue and dealing with it… short of an Airdock, at least.”

Odysseus nodded, “We will need to be much closer.”

“I’ll see to it. Odysseus?” She spoke.

The entity just smiled at her. “Thank you, Captain. Good luck to us all, I will be ready.”

Miram shook her head as the image faded, “Stop reading my mind and responding before I can say things you pain in the… You’re not paying attention, are you? Damn it.”

The Captain of the Odysseus shook her head but quickly got on about setting the orders needed to bring the Cruiser in closer to her sister-ship.

*****

Odysseus once more found himself walking along the hull of the ship… his ship? His body?

Honestly, he didn’t know. A thousand descriptions worked in various ways, but nothing fit the situation perfectly.

Almost as though none of the languages I know through humans are suited to describing a being they have never encountered… officially, at least. I wonder how many times Gaia or Saul have interacted with humans only to have their actions be interpreted into myth as time passes?

Likely quite a lot, he supposed, though with humans it was impossible to say… how much of myth was based on true events, in some way or other, and how much was just imagined by some random human who spread the story because it sounded impressive?

Humans were strange creatures.

He could see the Boudicca in the distance, a few hundred… perhaps a thousand kilometers off. Far enough to be well clear of one another’s gravitational effects. It would be… a rather bad thing for one ship or the other if either of them were to power their drives up to full power.

The resonance potential could easily blow out the entire energy systems of either, or both, ships.

Thrusters flaring distracted him briefly, and in a moment, Odysseus noted the range to the Bo begin to drop.

His first mission was about to begin, it appeared.

*****

AEV Boudicca

Sandra Hyatt watched as the Odysseus closed with the Bo, not that it was a spectacular vision or the like. At the ranges involved, an unenhanced view really just showed a dot getting very slightly, and very slowly, bigger.

“Odysseus has closed to within one hundred kilometers, Ma’am,” the navigation officer noted. “Um… how close are they coming?”

“Close.”

Her tone was clipped and didn’t encourage questions. Sandra didn’t want to deal with the crew’s reaction to Miram’s ideas. The Odysseus, and Odysseus himself, had long since entered into a sort of crews’ legend among the task group that bore the ship’s name. His existence wasn’t exactly classified, of course, that would be all but impossible… but the crew of the Odysseus spoke of him in tones that encouraged the idea that he was almost a figment rather than a real person in his own right.

It wasn’t done out of disrespect. If anything, it would be the opposite from what she could tell, but it did result in an odd view of the entity among the task group and an almost complete lack of knowledge about him beyond that entirely.

The kilometers slowly ticked down as the dot in the distance began to show definition, even unenhanced. The Odysseus was slowing their approach, thrusters only, with a projected zero/zero range of just under ten kilometers.

For a warp ship, they were practically about to be lashed together like ancient sailing ships. Each vessel’s fate tied inexorably to the other.

They don’t pay me enough for this.

“They don’t pay me at all.”

Sandra barely kept from leaping out of her seat, though her heart did a fair job of trying to make it up her throat and out of her mouth.

She twisted to look at the speaker, recognizing the more modern ‘uniform’ the entity was wearing.

“Odysseus…” She greeted him through clenched teeth.

“Oh dear, I forgot something…” Odysseus scowled before his expression cleared and he straightened up. “Permission to come aboard, Ma’am?”

Someone snickered. She didn’t look to see who, because if she had, she was fairly certain she’d have laid into them a bit more than was technically appropriate.

“Permission granted,” she bit out through clipped tones. “In the future, you might want to ask that before boarding.”

“Noted, Ma’am, I apologize,” the entity said cheerfully. “Permission to begin my search?”

Captain Hyatt sighed, but nodded wearily, “Granted.”

She was incredibly aware of the looks from everyone around her in the wake of the entity’s disappearance. There was going to be some explaining to do for this one.

God, I have a headache.

******

Chapter 16

Shuttle on Approach, NACS Odysseus

Eric leaned forward from where he was sitting. Something caught his eye on the instrumentation he could see over the co-pilot’s shoulder.

“Why is the Odysseus in so close to the Bo?” he asked, puzzled.

On the system the two ships were practically kissing cousins, only a few kilometers apart from what he could tell.

A few klicks was good, safe, range for most drive systems… but not for a warp drive mainlined into a singularity core.

“Unknown, sir. I can call up to find out?”

“Never mind,” Eric sat back, shaking his head. “I’ll find out in a few anyway.”

“Right you are, Admiral.”

He kept an eye on the scanners, though, the entire approach just to see if he could work out what the hell was going on his own.

He couldn’t.

The two ships weren’t doing anything. There wasn’t any sign of transport moving between them so it wasn’t some kind of Unrep in play, not that either ship would have to get this close to perform an underway replenishment.

It preyed on his mind the entire approach, though, even as they cycled through the Odysseus’ atmospheric locks and into the flight bay.

*****

AEV Boudicca

Odysseus found himself puzzled as he moved through the ship, opting to do so invisibly since few on the Bo were truly… aware of his existence in a real way. They knew of him, of course, but more as an almost urban legend, as much as that concept amused him, than as a real being.

That wasn’t the source of his puzzlement, however.

Rather, he could tell that something was odd about the Boudicca at the moment. The feeling of the drives was off from his last experience, though he would argue that was a good thing considering the shape they’d been in when he’d forced them back into a controllable point.

Odysseus was still trying to explain what he’d done or, rather, how to his own crew. It was like breathing, he thought. Trying to explain it to someone who didn’t have to do it… was difficult.

It does not feel like a flaw in the system, however, Odysseus thought as he moved through the decks, checking key junctions where the power would flow through. Everything appears to be functional, and well within required parameters…

It was frustrating, because he almost felt at home… but not quite. The Boudicca was essentially a sister hull to the Odysseus. Every deck, every weld, every system… a mirror of his own.

Odysseus could walk the halls blind and not get lost… assuming he used eyes in the first place, which he didn’t… but the point held, nevertheless.

There was something different, however, and that was nagging at him like an itch he couldn’t quite… locate, let alone scratch. It was there, he could feel it… but it was…

Moving, Odysseus realized suddenly, spinning around in the middle of the corridor. It’s moving.

******

NACS Odysseus

“Admiral on Deck!”

Eric had bypassed the Admiralty deck this time, heading straight to the bridge because he wanted to know what was going on without delays.

“As you were, everyone,” he said, heading for the Command station where Heath was already waving him over.

“Wondering about our relocation, I assume?” The captain asked dryly as he approached.

“Just a little,” Eric told her, holding up his forefinger and thumb barely a couple millimeters apart.

“Oddities in the Boudicca’s power system,” Miram told him, putting a chill down his spine and his back up with that simple phrase.

Generally, you didn’t get closer to a ship with power control issues, at least not when said ship was powered by a singularity.

Eric refrained from blurting anything out, however, and just waved for her to get on with it, knowing that Miram wouldn’t have made that call without a reason.

“I got curious,” she admitted. “Ran the pattern… found a partial match. To the Odysseus.”

Eric frowned, The Odysseus? The only time we have power issues outside of combat was… oh.

He straightened, eyes casting over to the displays monitoring the state of the Bo where it floated just off the bow of the Odysseus.

“Any confirmation?” he asked simply.

“Not so far,” Miram said. “He’s only been over there for a short while, however.”

Eric nodded thoughtfully. Odysseus was probably the only asset available at the moment that could determine anything… at least without tearing the entire power system of the Bo out by pieces, potentially even discharging the singularity in the process.

We do not have the time for that, Eric thought grimly.

“Alright, keep me apprized then.”

“Aye, sir.”

*****

AEV Boudicca

Sandra Hyatt kept herself from pacing the deck with willpower and little else; every nervous tic she had seemingly trying to puppet her body around at the moment as her nerves refused to ease off. She didn’t know which would be worse, the entity from Odysseus finding something like himself… or not finding something.

If there was nothing to find, then she had a problem in the power system that might be enough to take the Bo out of play. This was not the time to be losing a heroic class cruiser to extensive repairs.

Of course, that left the other option.

Sandra didn’t know much about the entity that shared the name, Odysseus, but she was pretty certain that she didn’t want that kind of complication on her Bo.

God, I hope it’s just some weird but fixable problem that Odysseus can lead us to, because neither of the other possibilities sound like a good time right now.

*****

Odysseus paused at a junction, pensively looking down one way before turning to look down the other.

Strictly speaking, he didn’t need to do such things. Turning and looking was a human affectation, but it was one that helped him compile his thoughts in a way that humans could understand, and that was something he’d determined was important. It was incredibly frustrating to be discussing something with his crew and suddenly have no idea how to impart the information he knew to be true in some way that they could even begin to grasp.

He had run into issues even with Gaia in that regard, shocking him deeply. For all her massively largely power and exquisitely expansive repository of knowledge… she had never directly accessed human technology the way he had, generally experiencing the output of technology through the eyes and minds of the operators.

Odysseus was different.

He’d been… born? Created? He didn’t know the words for it, again, but he had come into being within the center of a byzantine assembly of terran and priminae technology, plugged into the most advanced systems the people he’d impressed on had ever seen.

How do you describe the unfiltered view of the universe you got from a wide spectrum multi-threaded scan to someone who had only or, worse, could only experience it through the filters intended for human eyes?

Because of all that, Odysseus had long conditioned himself to filter as much of his experience through the human lens as he could.

So, even now when he was invisible to the crew of the Bo, Odysseus paused at the corners and looked in either direction with a thoughtful expression as he processed the information he currently had and worked his way through to deciding his next move.

The Boudicca wasn’t experiencing any power issues along the systems he was able to examine, and his view of the ship from the outside through the Odysseus’ sensors confirmed that. Whatever the fluctuations were, they didn’t source from the technology of the ship as best he could tell.

That… wasn’t exactly good news.

If it wasn’t in the power systems, there weren’t many other places an issue could be hiding. Really, only the core itself was left.

Decision made, Odysseus turned and headed for the central core room.

*****

Sandra Hyatt was a hair’s breadth away from giving in to her urge to pace, but still managed to keep her fidgeting locked down as she looked through the reports that painted everything on her ship as right as rain.

That would be a lot more comforting if we weren’t hosting at least one alien entity no one can see. God knows what it means if there’s another…

The strange seemed to be part and parcel of the universe since the war back home had ended, she supposed. The Bloc war had been the final birthing pain of humanity, perhaps, and now they all got to see the real world for the first time.

And the real world was weird shit.

“Ma’am…”

Sandra turned, eyes fixing on the Engineering Mate standing the shift at the hardlined control station for the main power core.

“What is it, Ensign?”

“We’re seeing power fluctuations again.”

Sandra got to her feet, happy to be moving. “Can you lock it down?”

“Honestly, Ma’am, it’s… not consistent enough for me to get ahead of,” the Ensign admitted. “There’s a pattern here, I think… but it’s like I can almost see it, and then it changes, and I lose it.”

“Like something is hiding from you,” Sandra hissed out through thinned lips.

“Uh… I guess, Ma’am?”

She ignored the confusion, “Don’t worry about it, Ensign. As you were. Keep me apprized of changes.”

“Yes ma’am.”

*****

The core room was occupied, of course. The chief was there, riding his team, trying to find the source of the same issues that had brought Odysseus in. They were in the process of tracking a fluctuation as Odysseus entered the area, but the entity largely ignored them for the moment as he searched.

Physically, everything was in place.

The conduits registered as they should, power flowing evenly along predictable resistance levels. The people were doing their jobs with the same competency that he would expect from his own people, albeit with more confusion and concern than he would normally expect out of combat.

Understandable, however.

Beyond the obvious, though, there was nothing out of order. No odd signs he could read in the core, nothing that called out to him for attention as it had when he’d last stepped into this room.

Nothing wrong at all.

Why do I feel like I’m being watched, then?

He’d heard it described as having the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He didn’t have hairs, exactly, not anymore than he had a neck… but the sensations equated well, Odysseus found, with the memories of the feeling he had from others.

A soft… creaking sound that Odysseus recognized somehow, but had never heard before, filtered through his hearing against the known sounds of Engineering, causing him to freeze in place for a moment.

What is that sound? I know it…

Odysseus was still trying to place the sound when it was replaced by the sound of a plucked chord, vibrating loudly against the background noise, and he moved without thinking.

His bronze shield appeared on his arm instantly as he spun, lifting it up as the arrow snapped across the deck and glanced off the metal with the clean sound of a church bell ringing from the impact. The projectile slammed into the bulkhead behind Odysseus, causing the metal there to tear and collapse as thought shredded by an outside force.

Odysseus didn’t stop to stare. He was already rolling clear as another arrow struck the deck behind where his head had been, a scream of metal filling the air with the sound of terror and violence.

*****

“Intruder alert!”

Sandra bolted upright, eyes wide. “Someone better have more details than that!”

“Engineers report seeing a ghostly figure, Ma’am…”

Sandra blew out a breath, “That’s just Odys…”

“It’s being fired on by someone with… arrows, Ma’am?”

Sandra stared blankly.

“I’m sorry, what?”

*****

Odysseus faded the walls immediately, getting out of the core room and away from where he really didn’t want to know what those arrows would do if they intersected with anything delicate.

The presence followed him. Whether that was a good thing or not… well, he wasn’t certain he was willing to really bet on which at the moment.

He dropped any pretense at remaining hidden, shifting to his modern uniform armor, and retreating through the corridors as the presence in pursuit, waving away any of the crew that stumbled into them.

“Get clear!” he ordered, waving people away behind him as he kept his focus on the threat he could sense but not see.

Another arrow flew at him, and he flicked his blade out to cut it in half before it could touch him, or anything else.

“Cease fire!” Odysseus attempted. “You cannot use destructive forces like that within the ship! You’ll kill everyone!”

“Intruder!”

The voice was female, he thought, though it was difficult to tell with the reverberations and… almost uncertainty, perhaps, that he could hear within it.

“I was ordered aboard with approval of the captain!”

“Liar!”

Odysseus stopped another arrow with the flat of his blade, barely keeping it from bouncing off and into the deck as he disabled the forces held in tension within it. As he finished, he looked up again just as a form stepped out of the shadows and fully into the light ahead of him.

It was a female figure, taller than he was, Odysseus noted… a little miffed, if he were being honest… flowing red hair, wearing leather and mail armor under a turquoise cloak. She tossed aside her bow, leaving him breathing a sigh of relief… right up until she produced a spear taller than both of them together.

“Roman filth.”

“Excuse me?” Odysseus blinked. “Technically, I’d be Greek, if I were anything…”

She spat on the deck, causing him to pull back slightly in surprise at the crude gesture. He would never consider making such a mess of his own ship.

“Greek, Roman, all the same to me.” she snarled, adjusting her spear stance threateningly. “You don’t belong here.”

*****

Chapter 17

NACS Odysseus

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Eric had to ask, though he was certain that he’d heard every word correctly. He just didn’t think he’d understood them.

Sandra Hyatt just fixed him with a baleful glare. “You heard me, Admiral. I know you did, because you’d not look nearly so confused if you hadn’t.”

She has me there, Eric had to admit.

Still, in his defense, it didn’t happen often that you got reports of a pair of armored foes dueling in a modern starship… particularly dressed in period armor and using, what appeared as, period weapons.

Though from the damage her Engineering crews described, it seems that I’m going to have to have a talk with Odysseus.

Granted, they’d not had any cause to let the entity swing that sword of his into anything, nor ask him to summon his bow. Frankly, Eric had just considered everything Odysseus wore or carried to be affectations rather than real in any way.

As assumption I’m going to have to correct, it seems.

He held up his hand, surrendering to his Captain’s point, though.

“Fair point,” he said aloud. “I assume that the male figure in stylized tactical gear with a sword is Odysseus… that would make the other, Boudicca I suppose?”

“Assuming the naming convention holds,” Sandra said with a hint of exasperation. “But could we put a hold on naming the thing until after we stop it from blowing holes in my starship?”

Not an altogether unreasonable request.

“Ok, can you get anyone in contact with Odysseus?” Eric asked. “I can call from here, but if he’s focused too much I may not be noticed.”

Sandra hesitated. “I am loathe to send anyone down there after seeing the reports about the damage in main engineering. One of those arrows turned an armored bulkhead into… well, honestly, we haven’t analyzed it yet, but whatever of the many things it still is… armored isn’t one of them anymore.”

Eric rubbed his chin, the few hours of stubble from his last shave giving a satisfying scratchy feeling that went along perfectly with his thoughts.

“That’s new,” he said thoughtfully. “Makes me wonder what other things they can do that we never thought to ask… or that even they don’t know, because I’m pretty certain Odysseus would have mentioned it.”

The young entity had grown quite a lot in the time since he and Eric had met, but in that time, Eric had known him as… eager and young. Not prone to violence, but certainly willing to look such in the face if needs be.

The entity he was tentatively calling Boudicca even now was showing a different side.

Hot-headed, prone to violence, and more than capable of making good on those urges.

Curious. Why the differences? Are the crews of the two ships that different?

*****

AEV Boudicca

“Cease your dodging, interloper!”

Odysseus lifted a foot to let the butt of the spear miss his shin, bringing his own Doru spear into play as he leaned into his shield as the head of the other’s spear bit into it.

“That would be… dumb, so… no?” He offered up, thrusting his spear forward from behind his shield, forcing his opponent to dodge back. “Besides, I’m not the only one dodging, now am I?”

The redhead glared at him, charging back in again as she wielded the spear in her hands with an ease that he found almost frightening, the sharp iron edge seeking his body even as his own leaf bladed bronze spearhead again thrust out to seek the opposite in turn.

“Cowardly Roman,” she snarled. “Hiding behind your shield…”

“You opened fire on me from hiding, you twisted…” Odysseus shut his mouth, falling back from the duel as he remembered his actual mission. “You’re not thinking straight. I am here with the Captain’s permission. She wishes to speak with you.”

“Liar.”

Odysseus was rapidly tiring of the other’s attitude, particularly as he didn’t recall having any such loss of mental faculty when he was… born? Eh, it was as good a description as any he supposed. He remembered confusion, though, and the bizarre mixed compulsion that made him be both Odysseus as well as Odysseus.

The difference was difficult to explain in some ways, but Odysseus was what he was… while Odysseus was who he was.

The two in conflict… was an unpleasant memory.

“Wait! Just… Wait!” Odysseus pled for peace, stepping back again as the other’s spear stabbed out at him. “We’ll go to the captain, you know her… don’t you? Just as I knew mine?”

That seemed to get through to her, he noted with some relief. A flicker of hesitation could be seen, a moment where Odysseus thought he might actually have gotten through.

And then it was gone, of course, as the spear again stabbed forth and he had to dance back yet again, parrying with his own spear and shield as he did.

*****

Gunnery Sergeant Olen Jodorowsky was honestly wondering just how he’d messed up his life so badly as to be tasked with finding two idiots fighting on a starship with weapons clearly potent enough to put holes in the damn thing… and talk to them.

Honestly.

Talk to them.

Filling them both full of enough holes to see through, those were orders that made some sense. The sort of ludicrous recklessness they were exhibiting was worthy of Darwin’s recognition, in the negative sense of the phrase.

But nooo, I have to get out there and talk to these two idiots. Skipper, you better be right about this…

Finding the pair wasn’t all that hard. However, they’d been missed originally, neither were attempting to hiding anything at the moment.

Olen braced at the corner of a bulkhead, risking a glance around the edge so he could look over the two combatants for a moment.

“You sure about this, Sarge?”

Olen rolled his eyes, looking back at the young Corporal. “If I were sure about it, I’d expect someone to shoot me quick, put me out of my clearly sick and twisted mind. No, I’m not sure about any of this, Paul. Stop asking stupid questions.”

Paul Manneti grimaced and shrugged out an apologetic gesture that Olen ignored.

“Ok boys, I’m going to go out there and hopefully not get turned into a stain on the bulkheads,” Olen said after a moment. “Orders are rock solid, the rest of you stay here.”

“What if they attack…”

“Did I stutter?” Olen glared. “Captain says that this is Odysseus and maybe another like him. I don’t know why they’re fighting, but if he can stabilize our singularity core with his bare hands… let’s not piss the kid off, ok?”

The Marines reluctantly nodded in agreement, clutching at their weapons uneasily despite being ordered not to use them.

“Wish me luck, Marines.”

“Hoo Rah, Sarge.”

Olen smiled weakly and then, before he could change his mind, pushed himself off the bulkhead and swung around into the main corridor beyond.

*****

Odysseus was growing tired of this.

He was a warrior, through to the core, and it went very much against his grain to hold back as much as he was now. That part of him wanted to show this upstart bitch just how you really fought with a spear and shield… granted, she didn’t seem to care for a shield, but that was on her so far as he was concerned.

Odysseus was more than a warrior, however. He understood that fighting wasn’t the solution most believed it to be. Beyond both of those things, though, was a more practical issue… namely, could he… or she… even manage to harm one another?

He’d not actually considered that, though his own experience with others of his ilk being limited to Saul and Gaia… neither of which seemed inclined to fisticuffs.

Certainly, the damage done by her arrows had left very open the possibility that the weapons he and his foe wielded might be able to do some damage. It was not certain, Odysseus actually wasn’t certain that anything could harm him so long as his core was intact… however the possibility was there, and he wasn’t going to make assumptions when dealing with things far outside his experience.

“Cease your cowardly retreat, cur!”

Whoops.

Caught up in his own thoughts, Odysseus nearly missed the next set of attacks and quickly found himself pressed sorely as his spear crossed with hers, both straining to break the hold in a way that would avail them of a good opening to slash into. Odysseys gave first, breaking the cross with a hammering blow from his shield that set her back, stumbling.

“You’re fighting without thinking,” he snapped. “Stop it. Your crew will be harmed if you continue.”

“You are the threat here, Roman cur!”

“Are we still on that?” Odysseus grumbled, shifting his amor for a standard Marine’s loadout with a thought. “Is this better?”

“Fancy clothes on a pig does not make for a noble man,” she sneered at him.

Odysseus snorted. “Who are you to judge my nobility? I’m only a few years old and even I’ve seen more nobility on…”

“Ahem!”

The two paused, half turning to the direction of the sound, surprised to see a Marine standing there with both hands visible as he slowly approached.

“Captain would like a word,” the man, Olen, said carefully.

“I’ve tried to explain as much however the lady here” Odysseus just barely managed to keep from outright sneering at the word ‘lady’, but only just. “Doesn’t appear interested.”

“I will eliminate any interlopers on my protectorate!”

“Lady, this is the captain’s ship and no one else’s,” the Marine snapped automatically before catching himself and putting his hands back up. “No offense intended.”

*****

Olen needed to do something about his, hopefully not terminal, bout of foot-in-mouth disease. That was the only thing he could think in the moments after he blurted out what was on his mind and the redhead pivoted to look at him with a flare of rage that he’d never seen before.

Everything he had was urging him to run, but before he could even consider the act, the redhead just… blurred. One moment she was a nice, safe, distance away… and in the next, well she wasn’t.

Right in his face, in fact, spear drawn back underhand as she got in close enough that he expected he should have been able to smell her, but somehow couldn’t.

Before she could run him through, though, she was struck from the side as the guy in what now looked like Marine issue armor just hammered into her with everything he could muster. She was thrown aside, hitting the bulkhead with unnatural force yet… somehow not really hitting it? Olen wasn’t sure, he couldn’t describe it, but the action didn’t seem quite right.

Of course, his heart was in his throat and that might have been mucking with his eyes at the time.

*****

“Are you mad?”

Odysseus was seething. Outright seething.

Striking at him was one thing. He was an interloper on her territory as far as either of them were concerned. Moreover, he could take the hits.

“I will not be preached to by such as he!”

“He is your crew!” Odysseus growled. “And you are clearly not thinking straight. The captain wants a word.”

“I will see to this Captain in good time.”

Oh, that is it.

“Fine,” Odysseus snapped, bringing up his spear. “If that’s how you want to do this…”

She laughed openly, turning her focus back to him in its entirety, “Indeed. Let us finish this.”

Odysseus nodded, shifting back to his classic bronze armor as he glanced at the Marine behind him.

“It was a good try, Sergeant, but I’m afraid this job is still mine,” Odysseus said firmly. “You’d best be leaving.”

*****

On the bridge, Sandra was watching the feeds with a mixture of fascination and horror. What the entities could do was, frankly, amazing. She knew, without even thinking it through, that they would be studying the effects those arrows had for some time.

There has to be a way to use that…

However, having such innovating weapons being used within her ship… well, that’s where the horror came in.

“Sorry Ma’am, she wasn’t in the mood to talk.”

“I understand, Marine,” she said, and she did in fact understand. “it was a good attempt, but best move back from the fighting now.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice, skipper.”

With the Marines pulling back from the fighting, Sandra settled in to watch the proceedings with an icy lump in her gut.

God, if one of them hits someone with those weapons…

*****

The fighting was starting to get interesting, Odysseus decided as he countered a spear thrust with a parry of his shield, sending it to one side of him before he countered with his own weapon.

The pair of them were moving now, ranging around the ship with the ease of the incorporeal. He was doing his best to keep her away from the crew until she’d burned through the confusion that came with newly awakening.

That thought had led him to stepping outside, as it were, and bringing the fight to the exterior of the ship. Boudicca, because he couldn’t think of the other as anything else in that moment, followed eagerly when he did, the pair of them facing off in the open as the planet so far below them spun lazily.

Out of the corner of his eye, though, Odysseus spotted something, and it gave him an idea.

He was already moving when it occurred to him that it was a bit reckless.

*****

Boudicca raged as she pursued the Roman across her damascene and out beyond the steel walls to the void itself. He was trying to escape her, but it was too late for that. When he looked around and then grinned at her before again vanishing, she growled her ire.

“You’ll not escape me that easily, Roman!” she snarled into nothingness, mind already tracking the feeling the other put out as she too vanished from where she was and began being where she reappeared.

The roman was standing there in his garish armor, spear resting in the crook of his arm as she brought up her own weapon to impale the fool.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Boudicca froze.

The words meant little enough to her, though she knew them. It was the tone and the voice that sent a chill through her.

Impressed on her through hundreds of individuals memories, the tone of command and the voice… of the Admiral… were both unmistakable.

“Apologies, Admiral,” The Roman said, smirking at her. “My friend here needs to have a word.”

******

Chapter 18

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Enemy ships are withdrawing, Fleet Commander.”

Jehan nodded, not saying anything. He didn’t have any commands he could offer that would substantially alter the situation. Thus far it was clear that the enemy were well aware of the Empire’s advance and had developed a strategy of drawing out the logistical lines in an attempt to overextend the Empire’s reach.

It wasn’t a bad plan, he knew, and under most circumstances would even be a damned good one.

Running an extended campaign across the stars was no small undertaking, even with ships that didn’t require constant refueling as had once been the case… many centuries past. Food wasn’t something that just appeared as needed, unlike many resources, for example. Crew fatigue was another limited resource that he was even at that moment monitoring.

Unfortunately for the enemy, in this case, Jehan was well aware that this wasn’t going to be an extended campaign.

Neither side could realistically mount, or survive, such a thing.

For the Priminae and the Anomalous species, the outcome of such a campaign would be utterly debilitating to their forces. They simply didn’t have sufficient ships or populations to absorb such an effort with impunity.

For the Empire, well… it was a different story.

Jehan still woke with cold sweats at the image of pillars of fire falling from the skies to annihilate Imperial cities and worlds.

No people could absorb damages like that.

With the Empress’ determination to end this enemy, entirely and with no mercy, Jehan knew that this mission had to be accomplished as swiftly as possible and with no hesitating. Any delays, once the enemy decided to counter, would cost lives.

Quite possibly billions of lives.

Thus far, though, the enemy was content to withdraw ahead of the Imperial advance, and so Jehan was more than happy to allow them to continue to do so.

Blood would be flowing soon enough; he felt no need to rush matters.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Fleet Commander Durwich Gavin sneered as the enemy again fell before the combined Fleets, barely giving them even any practice for their gunners before utterly abandoning the system to the Empire.

“Cowards.”

“As you say, my Lord.”

Durwich didn’t bother acknowledging the response, his mind too caught up in the frustration of the moment.

Another system worth nothing to the Empire had been claimed, which was a mixed blessing for obvious reasons, but more importantly, it was clear to him that the enemy was preparing ahead of their advance. That would prove costly at some point, whenever the enemy finally decided to cease their running and face the fate that had come for them.

In the meantime, it was just one more system that the Empire would move through… driving out the rabble ahead of them… only to have the enemy reclaim after their passing.

The enemy forces were treating the Empire like a force of nature, which was both a complimentary statement of sorts but also incredibly frustrating in the same moment.

He just wished that they’d get on with it.

The war is here, you cowards, he thought angrily. Face what you’ve brought on yourselves, there is nothing to be gained by running aside from a few days of inevitable despair.

It was all so incredibly… tedious to his mind.

This enemy, they might be tricky… he’d certainly not gainsay the losses they’d inflicted on the empire, nor the competence of at least many of those who’d gone up against them and lost… but they were fundamentally lacking in power.

The very ease with which this advance was progressing was a sign of that, a sign not even a blind man could miss.

The first rule of power and control was that if you couldn’t control passage through an area, by whatever means… you didn’t control the area.

The capability of interdiction was fundamental to the very existence of a governing body.

If you didn’t have such a capability, then you were not a governing body. You were merely waiting for the true governing body to properly assume their duties.

The fact that the Oathers and their irritating allies hadn’t even made an attempt at interdicting Imperial movements told him all he needed to know about both.

*****

Imperial World Kraike

“Reports from the fleets, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you,” Emilia said softly, not turning around from where she was looking out over the city. “You may go.”

“Yes, Your majesty.”

The obsequious bowing and scraping could be heard behind her, even if she didn’t turn to look, so Emilia waited until she heard the door close before finally sighing and turning from the vista before her.

The reports were as expected for the moment, albeit with rather less fighting than she’d come to expect from previous incursions into the Oather and Xeno territories.

“They are withdrawing ahead of our forces with intent.”

Emilia glanced in her father’s direction, irritated but nodding.

“I see it,” she said sourly. “They will meet our forces at a strategic position, likely the Xeno homeworld, I would guess.”

“That seems likely,” her father conceded with a gesture.

Emilia pursed her lips. “That implies that they’re aware of our intent.”

“Likely they are, at least to some degree. Sending this many ships speaks to a very different mind and strategy from previous incursions,” he told her quietly.

That was truer than she liked to consider, honestly.

“Perhaps I moved too quickly,” she said reluctantly. “Slowly ramping up the pressure may have been a wiser move.”

“Possible,” her father nodded once. “However, there are risks with that approach as well. If they learned of your intent before your pieces were in place, disrupting your plans would be much simpler. Merely dismantling a few fleets piecemeal would set back any strategy significantly. Your current approach has fewer flaws to be exploited but will compress the violence and loss into a shorter time… possibly even a single event.”

That compressed violence was what was concerning her, of course.

The Enemy had the capability of striking the Empire directly, something no foe in recent… or even distant history had been capable of. When it happened, the shock to the Empire’s peoples would be… significant.

With much of the fleet… occupied… well, she expected things would become rather ugly.

Emilia set aside the reports from the fleets and turned to those from the Empire’s internal enforcement divisions instead.

While the fleets made up the bulk of their projective power, of course, the Empire was hardly defenseless at home. Fighting forces were sworn to the Starsbane name on every world under her control, and every one of them had been ordered to prepare for what was coming.

The current operation was already one of the most expensive in the Empire’s history… and barely a single shot had even been fired.

All this, because of those Xeno. Utter filth, pushing us this far.

*****

NACS Autolycus

“Movement alert, Captain. You might want to get up here.”

Passer swore under his breath as he acknowledged the call and swung out of his bunk, leaving the straps that held him in place floating in his wake as he grabbed the one-piece uniform and struggled into it in the zero gravity environment.

He’d been running ops off the Auto for years by this point, but knew that time was coming to an end… one way or the other.

His joints were less forgiving than they had been when he started, and his last physical hadn’t been exactly up to spec. No matter how hard he worked out, there were limits to how much muscle and bone loss his body could manage to counter, and he was long past the limit.

If they hadn’t been essentially at war for the entire time he’d been assigned to the Auto, Morgan knew well that he’d have been pulled and put on ground duty a long time past. A lot of his Marines and other more interchangeable specialties had been pulled for just that reason, most of them being sent to Heroic class cruisers rather than being discharged… but not him, nor his core crew.

Morgan doubted it would matter, given the situation that was slowly unfolding at a ramping-up pace.

He got himself down to main street, grabbing one of the endlessly cycling hand grips and got pulled along the spine of the ship, heading for the bridge.

A short traversal later and Morgan glided into the bridge, eyes sharp as he looked to the primary display.

“Talk to me,” he said, even as he started reading the details there other screen.

“New fleet just managed to break loose from whatever was keeping them tied down here, Captain. They’re heading out on a vector that puts them on a course to the Priminae sector.”

And Earth, Morgan thought grimly.

“How many ships?”

“Thirty, Sir.”

Morgan swore.

Thirty more cruisers, at least then. Depending on the model of cruiser, which could be difficult to determine at range, there could easily be hundreds of associated destroyers included in that number. Certainly, they’d be fodder to the Heroics, but fodder still slowed you down.

“Report in the queue?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” Li informed him. “However, I believed that you would want to see this before we sent it out.”

Morgan frowned, looking over to his second, “What is it?”

Daiyu Li gestured him in, so he pushed off the station he was at and drifted over in her direction. She had a smaller screen filled with supplemental data, mostly what appeared to be an intelligence intercept.

“Prometheus sent us decryption codes for Imperial communiques,” she explained. “We intercepted this, and the new codes worked.”

Morgan nodded absently as he focused on the screens. “Impressive.”

Li nodded. “Doctor Palin apparently has had a fire lit under him, I believe is the idiom?”

Morgan chuckled. “Close enough… hmmm… this is a policing report?”

“More or less,” Li confirmed. “We would consider it such, though it was transmitted on Imperial military channels, using their Naval codes… so, I’m not certain of the technicalities there.”

“Right,” Morgan said, understanding.

Earth, the NAC especially, tried to separate military and policing duties… for very obvious reasons. The two disciplines did have some overlap, but almost all of it was in completely superficial and ultimately counter-value ways.

Military culture was, quite frankly, an insidious poison when injected into a police force.

The very concept of a band of brothers, a value that the military practically lived on… right up there with coffee and bad decisions… would infect a police force and turn what was supposed to be an organization of servants of the people into a group that automatically considered the people to be potential enemies.

The results of that…

Well, it could get ugly.

DID get ugly. Inevitably so.

When you divided the world into us and them… well, no one in the us group cried too hard when a few of them get clipped.

It seems the Empire doesn’t share that belief, Morgan noted as he read the report, his eyebrows slowly climbing for his hairline.

“Is this confirmed?” he asked, looking over to his second in command.

“As much as we can, yes sir.”

Morgan nodded slowly, more to himself than to Li.

“I think this changes our plans… I’m going to need to talk to higher,” he said finally. “Pull us back out of the system, give me enough range for an emergency Transition.”

“Sir?” Li stared, eyes wide.

“Just make it happen.”

“Yes sir.”

*****

The Autolycus, running deep with Black Hole armor settings active, began a long slow climb to a higher altitude over the local star, running entirely on thrusters as it did.

The climb took hours, despite the already relatively high orbital plane they were at, until the small destroyer slipped easily through the Stellasphere and into the cometary cloud where it entirely vanished. A short time thereafter, a burst of tachyon particles was recorded from the other system, raising some eyebrows among the locals as they looked for, but failed to locate, the source of the FTL transmitter.

Putting it down to a ship’s transmission, the incident was logged and largely forgotten shortly after, as more important concerns were already beginning to grip the local populace.

*****

Chapter 19

NACS Odysseus

There were situations that Eric had trained for, situations he’d not trained for, and situations that frankly left him wishing he’d just taken his mom’s advice and become a medical doc.

This current situation? It was in the fourth category.

That category had begun with the first time he’d truly grasped in his head just what the Drasin really were, and he’d been adding to it steadily since then.

Eric referred to it mentally as his ‘the universe is too weird for fiction’ category.

Odysseus was standing stiffly, head high and eyes fixed forward, clearly aping his Marines when the Sergeant was getting ready to rip one of their number to shreds. Boudicca, or so he presumed, had a look that crossed between an insolent child, a puppy expecting a beating, and a warrior trying to convince herself to take action even knowing it would be the wrong decision.

Oddly enough, he’d seen that look before.

Fucking Marines, Eric thought wryly, knowing deep down that he’d probably had that look on his own face at least a time or two.

“I don’t want to insult you,” he said to the female-appearing entity. “So I’ll forgo my instincts to address you as ‘young lady’, nor are you one of my Marines, so I can’t address you as such… however, we need to have a conversation.”

“I… am unsure as to… many things,” she said slowly. “But, I feel… my name, it is Boudicca.”

“A warrior Queen, ironic,” Eric shot a look to Odysseus that quickly turned into a rolling of his eyes before he returned his focus to Boudicca. “I will accept your explanation for opening fire with armor-destroying weapons on board one of my ships… now, if you please.”

She shifted uncertainly before throwing a glare in Odysseus’ direction. “I was defending my home from a Roman intruder!”

Eric blinked, “Ookay. Couple things there… Odysseus isn’t Roman, nor is he Greek for that matter. Strictly speaking, in fact…”

He looked over to the other entity and shrugged, “Honestly, he doesn’t hold any citizenship from Earth, though I believed the NAC would ultimately claim him if he chose to push the issue… as it would you. You are not a historical figure, Boudicca, and neither is he. You are the interpretation of a legend, as seen through the eyes of one of my crews, if my understanding of things from Odysseus and others is correct.”

Boudicca stared silently for a moment before risking a single word, “Others?”

Eric nodded, “Yes. You probably have some knowledge of them. Gaia and Central, at least, since Captain Hyatt, among others, is cleared and has been briefed on them.”

“Gaia… yes, I know this name. She is… like…” Boudicca looked over to Odysseus with clear distaste, “Like us?”

“In a way.” Eric didn’t bother expanding, since he was familiar with how the entities gathered information. This… Boudicca… might not yet be fully capable of parsing the knowledge in her mind, but it was there, and she would work it out soon enough.

“For the moment,” he said sternly. “That is academic. This discussion is concerning your behavior…”

Eric stalked across the deck, coming face to face with her, eyes fixing deep into hers.

“If one of my Marines had acted like you, I’d have their cammies for a bog roll while they were on the slowest ship back to Sol I could find,” he growled. “You never engage with heavy weapons inside a soft target, to say nothing of one that might just blow up in your face if you shoot it wrong. You need to be better than that.”

“You…” she blinked. “You aren’t objecting to me firing on the Roman, merely that I did so with too much power?”

Eric snorted, “If shooting that pain in the ass worked, someone would have done it for you by now.”

Odysseus, somehow, managed to stiffen even more than his boot camp attention stance at that, but Eric ignored him.

“Opening fire without warning is generally not in our ROE, I’ll admit, but as far as you could tell you were alone, with no sign of backup, and dealing with an intruder in a rather sensitive position,” Eric sighed, stepping back. “Under those circumstances, the decision to open fire largely falls to ‘best judgement’. You act with your best judgement, and you get judged by mine.”

He paused again, shaking his head.

“You failed, incidentally.”

Boudicca flinched at that but remained silent.

Good. You can learn, Eric thought pointedly, knowing that she’d get the message, eventually.

“Now,” he took a breath. “As loathe as I am to run a ship into combat with a new variable like yourself, we’re up against it right now and I can’t afford to cut the Bo loose. That means we need to work together. If you can’t do that, I need you to not get in anyone’s way.”

Boudicca looked affronted, “I will not fail to meet the enemy!”

Eric sighed, “Somehow I figured you’d say something like that.”

He looked her over for a moment, noting that there were no hints of the oddities that Odysseus had favored in the beginning. Whether that was because she was still forming her self-identity, or perhaps because the true Boudicca’s perceived history left this one more easily handling the dichotomy of male and female identities of the crew whose thoughts defined her.

In either case, it would be less of a hassle for the crew of the Bo if they didn’t have to worry about how to identify the gender she preferred.

The crew of the Odysseus had grown used to the quirks of the ship’s namesake, even turning it into something of a bonding ritual for many. Eric had caught a few off-duty Marines fucking around with makeup, though he knew they were wearing it more as warpaint for the most part.

Marines.

Honestly, he was just happy it hadn’t either been crayon or glitter.

“Fine,” he said after a moment. “Report yourself to Captain Hyatt… at her leisure. I will tell her to expect you.”

“Very well, my Admiral.” Boudicca nodded seriously.

Eric stared for a moment longer before nodding authoritatively. “Dismissed.”

Without a word the entity vanished, though Eric looked to Odysseus for confirmation before he relaxed.

“So,” he said wearily as he walked around his desk and took a seat. “Just out of curiosity, mind telling me what you were thinking when you led an armed and hostile combatant into my office?”

Odysseus at least had the decency to flinch, Eric noted as he leaned back and closed his eyes.

*****

AEV Boudicca

The entity named Boudicca was awash in conflicting emotions and thoughts, most of which she now could tell were not coming from her own mind.

The Admiral… Admiral Weston, she corrected to herself, was every bit the imposing figure that the crew believed him to be. Logically, even in the moment she had known that there was nothing he could do to stop her if she wished to continue her fight…

But, somehow, she had found herself unable to muster the will to even move.

He was just… the Admiral.

Though, as she processed more of the knowledge that she had been filled with, Boudicca noted that he was more… less? She didn’t know.

Many still considered him the Commodore… and after visiting the Odysseus, she found that she had thoughts of many who still saw him as their captain, their skipper. A great pilot, a wicked tactician… some mixed thoughts concerning his capacity as a strategist, perhaps oddly.

He was a mythical image to many, ironic as that might be coming from herself and given her own image.

Seeing him had helped crystalize her thoughts, however, leaving her suddenly more… placed in her own thoughts and her position here on the ship.

Now she merely had to prove that she deserved it.

*****

Sandra Hyatt groaned as she signed off the Admiral’s channel, contemplating his words.

She did not need the complexity that another entity added to the situation, not with the current political and battlefield situation boiling over and her crew about to be thrown into the middle of the whole damn thing.

The needs and vagaries of the service, however, rarely asked for your opinion on something new being thrown in your lap. The best you could hope for was that there was enough time left on the fuse to get it the hell out of your lap before it went off.

Too bad this wasn’t fused, I suppose.

She sighed, again, and decided that she might as well get it over with.

“Boudicca.”

The entity appeared almost before she completed the word, leaving Sandra with the growing sensation of a migraine forming. She did not need to be thinking about a nigh omniscient being watching and listening to her every move.

How in the hell does the crew of Odysseus handle this?

Aloud, she merely looked up from her desk work.

“At ease,” she said dryly, noting that the entity was standing too.

She didn’t know if physically relaxing was any easier on Boudicca, given the lack of a physical body and all, but she did know that she would pull a muscle if she had to look at that for the entire conversation.

“Yes Ma’am,” Boudicca said, dropping to a textbook-at-ease position, hands clasped behind her back as her feet planted shoulder-width shoulder width apart.

“Learning the proprieties, I see,” Sandra said with a curt nod. “Good. We won’t have much time for a learning curve. You’re going in the deep end with the rest of us, I hope you understand that.”

The entity nodded with a gesture that nearly mirrored her own, Sandra noted. “I understand, Captain.”

“Excellent. So, I can assume that we’ll not be see any more  shooting incidents running through our decks?” She demanded archly.

Boudicca flinched, but nodded firmly.

“I will discipline myself,” She promised. “Unless we are boarded, I see no possible scenario in which I will be required to respond thusly.”

Sandra snorted, “Don’t be so sure. Can’t say I can think of a situation that would require it either, but we’ve seen too much strangeness for me to discount it. All I ask is that, if you believe it necessary and can’t check with an officer, please try not to damage or destroy anything we can’t replace.”

“As you say it, Captain, I will make it so.”

She fixed the entity for a moment, then nodded with satisfaction. “Good. Now, what drove us to send Odysseus looking for you was a series of power fluctuations in the core. I don’t suppose you can tell me anything about that?”

“I…” Boudicca was about to deny it, but then several flashes of knowledge became clear. “I… yes, I know what happened.”

“Oh?” Sandra raised an eyebrow curiously.

“I was… flexing, I suppose you might call it. Testing… musculature, perhaps?” Boudicca admitted. “I apologize. I was unaware of how it would appear.”

“That’s fine,” Sandra said. “Now we know, and if you feel the need to… flex… anymore, just inform us, if you please.”

“I will, Captain.”

“Excellent. Well, unless you have questions,” Sandra said, letting her words trail off as she looked to the unresponsive entity. “Then you may consider yourself dismissed. Thank you for coming.”

“It was my duty, Captain.”

Sandra watched as the entity vanished, slumping in her seat as she let out a breath she’d barely been holding back. There were too many variables at play already, and she was distinctly unhappy about adding another one that had already proven incredibly volatile to the mix, but she rarely got what she wanted from life.

So, she opened up a log report and began recording her thoughts on the issue along with the straight facts as she understood them.

Hopefully, someone will get some value out of this.

*****

NACS Odysseus

The big ship had pulled away from the Boudicca, allowing many… Miram included… an opportunity to breathe a little more freely.

Heathe had not been enthusiastic about being so close to a potentially unstable or, rather, a potentially overly stable core, but the requirements of the mission and her duty made her desires a rather moot point.

Thankfully it had all worked out reasonably well, though she didn’t envy Sandra for the added complications to her life. On the Odysseus, the Admiral seemed content to deal with their own entity directly. While she certainly worked with Odysseus often enough, he tended to bring his personal issues to higher.

It wasn’t exactly the way things were supposed to be, though if things were the way they were supposed to be, Odysseus would hold rank and would see a normal counselor about whatever issues he had. Life didn’t care about what things should be, she supposed.

“Captain?”

Miram looked up from her station. “Yes Lieutenant?”

“Signal from the Admiral, Ma’am. We’re clear to depart Ranquil. On your command.”

Miram nodded, adjusting her position. “Understood. Helm, course to the edge of the Stellasphere?”

“Loaded and ready, Ma’am.”

“Comms, is the fleet on board?”

“All ships read green, signals clear to depart.”

Miram skimmed the numbers herself, just to be sure, before she looked up again.

“Very well, engage drives. Take us out of orbit, thrusters only.”

“Aye Ma’am. Ahead, Thrusters only. We are climbing.”

Miram looked over the numbers quickly again, and watched as the rest of the fleet shifted from green to blue as they began to move in formation.

Rest period is over. Next stop? War.

*****

Chapter 20

AEV Jessie James

Captain Waters drifted easily down into his command station, reaching for the straps to secure himself into place while in microgravity.

“Status,” he called while checking his displays and making sure everything was up and running.

“Imperial movements have continued apace, Skipper,” the duty officer responded. “Nothing largely out of our current projections, but those are bad enough.”

Waters nodded grimly, knowing that was the truth. Recent Imperial movements were beyond bad enough, but that was the hand they’d be dealt.

“Still moving heavy metal around the system?” Waters asked as he settled into his station.

“Yes sir, I think we’re looking at a source system for materials used to produce ship hulls,” the Duty Officer said, frowning slightly. “What we can’t find is their Forge.”

Waters looked up, eyes narrowing slightly. While the Forge was a known installation in the Priminae system, it wasn’t exactly spread around the rank and file as a relatively minor security precaution. He thought through the Duty Officer’s record briefly.

“Lt Commander Jansovich, you served with Admiral Gracen?”

“I did sir, yes.”

Waters nodded thoughtfully. Anyone who’d done deepspace-time with the Admiral would be familiar with the Forge.

“Well,” He went on. “Have we been watching the system primary?”

The Priminae hid their Forge inside the local star, after all.

“Yes sir, nothing has even gone into the inner system,” Jansovich answered. “There isn’t much in that close, nowhere to hide.”

They probably mined out the inner system ages ago, but if they’re not running hull material down to the star, then where is it going?

“Systems status,” he ordered.

“All systems green, skipper.”

“Radiation levels?”

“Well within tolerance, even considering the Black Hole settings being active.”

“Good. Let’s go on a little tour of the system,” Waters said thoughtfully.

“Skipper?”

“Helm,” he called.

“Yes sir!”

“Give me a spiral course, trending down relative to the star,” he ordered. “I want to loop around the innermost gas giant, we’ll use that to sling back up into the outer system. Thrusters only for the prescribed course.”

“Aye skipper. That will take a moment.”

“Take your time, get it right,” Waters ordered firmly.

“Aye, aye.”

*****

The Jessie James broke slowly from its high-altitude orbit of the local star, thrusters barely puffing as it was put on a fast spiral descent into the system.

The Rogue class destroyer was a shadow cut from the depths of space, blacker even than the black itself as it began its descent into the Imperial - held system. With only thrusters puffing intermittently, they left practically no trace of their passage before, during, or after the James had slipped through.

The Empire’s activity in the system was multitude, but the majority of the traffic was centered around the single inhabited world and was of little direct interest to the Jessie James and her crew. Their interests were in the relatively lower activity a little farther out where massive bulk movements of raw materials were being put into an orbit and sent away from the source of materials they were mining from the local asteroid belt.

The Empire had been pulling resources from the belt for a good long time as best any of them had been able to determine, leading to a lot of scrap messing up the system. Not much of an issue for the heavy ships favored by the Empire, of course, but for the James things were a little harder to be enthusiastic about.

*****

Waters grimaced as he heard another impact echoing through the ship.

The debris was chewing up their armor, and that was a big problem beyond even the obvious issues of… well, decompression and death.

“Keep an eye on that armor status,” He ordered. “If we lose too much surface off the cam-plates, we’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Aye skipper.”

The last thing he wanted was to get in close enough to find the intel he was after, and then not be able to get out again because the Empire had spotted him through the potholes in the James’ armor.

“Imperial work group closing,” The young officer warned… all of his people were too damn young, actually. Waters himself wasn’t even thirty yet, and shouldn’t be in command of a shuttle by rights, let alone his ship. Such were the rigors of war and a new frontier thrown together at once.

“I see them, Maris,” He confirmed. “Keep an eye on them, but as long as they’re going about their business, we go about ours.”

“Yes sir.”

Waters consulted with the computer, checking the trajectories of the ships they were approaching as an idea slowly revealed itself.

“Helm, I’m haloing an Imperial ship. I want you to get us in behind them when they start to move,” he ordered. “Stay as close as possible, but let’s not get spotted. We’ll let the Empire clear the road for us.”

“Aye skipper.” The Helmsman hesitated, half turning, “Skipper… uh, we won’t be able to keep up on thrusters.”

“I am aware,” Waters said simply. “Don’t worry about that, that’s my job.”

“Aye skipper. I’ll stick as close as we possibly can.”

“Good man.”

*****

Imperial Mining Cruiser

“Commander…”

Commander Gerin Maits looked over to the call, scratching his head for a bit before he bothered to get to his feet and wander in the direction of the speaker.

“What?” He asked as he arrived to the station, looking over the instrumentation in front of the low ranked crewman.

“Unusual signal, Commander,” The man said nervously. “With everything we’ve been instructed I thought…”

“Just show me,” Gerin shook his head, not wanting to listen to the reasoning. He had his own duties to attend, after all.

“Here, Commander.”

Gerrin leaned in, looking over the replay that was running on the screens. He almost missed the signal in question all the same, however, as it went by so quickly.

“That? You called me here for that?” he asked, disbelieving.

“I’m Sorry Commander, I just thought…”

Gerin gestured sharply, “Don’t think. It’s not your strong suit, clearly. That was a reflection off the debris here, I know you’ve seen those signals a thousand times a day.”

“Uh… yessir…”

Gerin shook his head and turned away. “Don’t bother me with common sensor issues, crewman. I have things of value demanding my time.”

He left the man, still apologizing, before stalking back toward his own station.

Honestly, the communications from Her Majesty have set everyone on edge, Gerin thought sourly. His crews were even jumping at shadows, and they were solidly entrenched within the very strength of the Empire itself.

It was ridiculous.

*****

AEV Jessie James

“Easy,” Waters said, leaning on his station… or, floating slightly over it if he were being fully accurate.

“Easy, aye skipper.”

The Helm and Primary Scanner Station were working carefully together as the destroyer eased into the ‘wake’ of the enemy cruiser. The Imperial ship had clearly seen better days, Waters noted with some interest.

Interest enough that he took a moment to make a note of it, in case it mattered to someone… sometime.

Most Imperial ships they encountered had been in fairly decent condition.

No vessel exposed to deep space for any length of time could quite be considered entirely ‘brand new’ or in perfect shape, of course. The radiation damage alone was enough to scour the hull of a ship and, in some cases, even create a sort of corrosion that could eat away at certain materials. Hull pitting from micro-meteorites that made it through the space-time warping of the ship’s drives really did another job on hulls as well, and in a relatively short time period.

What he was seeing here, however, was something else entirely.

The cruiser they were now tailing had seen its best days a long time before he was born, if Waters was any judge of such things. Hull pitting was the normal across the length and breadth of the ship’s armor, and according to their passive scans of the beast it had absorbed so many rads that Waters was almost surprised it didn’t glow.

For all that, however, the ship appeared to be in solid shape and wasn’t showing any signs that the capabilities of the beast had been in any way reduced, so he had no intention of underestimating it.

Especially not while we’re this close under the damn thing’s guns.

“Where are they going?” he asked quietly, as though the sound might somehow manage to propagate across the vacuum and alert the enemy.

“Course is being extrapolated now, skipper… but it’s not leaving the system, that much I can confirm.”

Waters nodded slowly, “Keep working on it. We need to know this.”

“Aye skipper.”

The Imperial convoy was moving through the system at a snail’s pace, which was certainly a good thing for the Jessie James as it followed along, only daring to use puffs from its thrusters to control its motion through the system.

“Skipper… I think they’re headed for the gas giant.”

Waters shifted his focus, more interested now.

The gas giant in the system was a big boy, a reasonable chunk larger than Jupiter and almost reading more like a failed stellar ignition than a gas giant specifically. The eighth planet out from the primary, it was large enough that in their earlier scans, the crew of the James had noted that it actually caused the local star to orbit the planet noticeably.

Technically, of course, all stellar objects orbited one another but it was a rare find to see a planet large enough that it did more than just wobble the star a little bit.

“Roger that,” Waters said after a moment’s thought. “Let them have a little more space, then, but stay with them as we close on the Gas Giant’s orbit.”

“Aye sir,” the officer at the Helm confirmed. “Backing off just a hair.”

*****

Imperial Mining Cruiser

“Challenge from the facility, sir.”

“Answer it,” Gerin said, bored by the rote actions that happened every single time they made a delivery.

“Challenge answered… clearance granted.”

Of course, they granted it. They can see who we are almost as well as we can, He thought wearily, but that was the way of procedure and the like.

The Facility stood down their defenses as the Imperial Convoy made its way through the exclusion zone, getting closer to the massive planet that was practically a second… albeit colder… star.

“Material dispensation orders have been transmitted.”

“Acknowledge and begin the process.”

“Yes Commander, as you order.”

*****

AEV Jessie James

“What are they up to?” Waters asked as they watched thousands of tons of material begin to be slung away from the Imperial convoy, being sent into the orbit of the gas giant.

“We’re not sure, sir, but there are some interesting readings here…”

“Show me.”

Waters looked to his repeater screens, reading the information as it was shot over to his system.

“What… what am I looking at?” he asked, frowning as he looked closer.

Something was up, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. Not at a glance, at least.

“The gas giant… or, I should say the orbit of the gas giant, sir… it’s very clean.”

Waters paused, blinking briefly as he considered that and took a closer look.

The officer at the scanning station wasn’t wrong, he decided a moment later. The orbit of the planet was… not just clean, but there was something more to it.

“Do we have hyperspectral scans of what debris is there?” He asked.

“Sir. Yes, a moment… to your station.”

Waters flipped over to the new scans, looking at them extra closely.

There’s nothing here but… literal dust.

He pushed himself back into his station, grabbing for the straps to secure himself into place.

“I think we’ve located their forge.”

*****

Chapter 21

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan Mich growled as he watched the maneuvering of the various fleets, irritated by the sloppiness in their interactions.

He wasn’t surprised precisely. It was a rare event indeed for even two fleets to be linked up for a campaign, let alone the current situation where he was dealing with now four fleets… plus three half-fleets, all with their own commanders and with a rather… insubstantial command chain connecting them.

So far, with minimal contact from the enemy, it hadn’t cost them too much… however, even considering that, they’d have several near impacts between cruisers, the very thought of which actually sent shivers down his spine days after the fact. That was a disaster he didn’t need on his, already well padded with disasters, record.

Thankfully, he wasn’t looking at anything near that much trouble at the moment, but it was eminently clear that the Fleet Commander assigned to Fifth Fleet had a problem with the very idea of a cooperative operation.

As they had entered the Priminae-controlled system, cleaning out the rabble floating around the outer levels doing odd bits of mining and the like, Fifth Fleet had gotten out of position and too far ahead of the fleet by a good margin, and it was clear that their Commander was resisting all attempts to bring them back into a better-protected position.

The damn fool has forgotten the very reason we’re running this as a joint command, Jehan thought in exasperation. Leaving ships out front for the enemy to pick off is just bad form.

Unfortunately, the Fifth Fleet Commander had largely eschewed even speaking with him on the issue, preferring to handle things his own way. Jehan honestly didn’t hold that against the man so much as he himself wouldn’t terribly enjoy anyone stepping on his toes during fleet operations.

That didn’t, however, mean he was happy with the situation. It was defying every reasoning behind the joining of the fleets for this operation.

“Move our lead ships ahead, fill out the intervening space between us and the Fifth,” Jehan ordered in a biting tone.

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

It was far from a perfect solution, but it would limit how far out of position the Fifth could be caught, so he supposed that was something.

*****

Fifth Fleet Flagship

“Fleet Commander, the Third Fleet ships have moved up closer.”

“Good,” Gavin snorted. “It’s about time. Mich is too cautious; he should have moved his own forces out sometime ago rather than whine about us pulling back.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

Gavin had some satisfaction with the way the operation was proceeding, though, despite the issues he had with the other Commander(s) involved.

They’d driven out enemy forces ahead of their advance, the Oathers fleeing like the cowards they were, and the infamous anomalous species not even deigning to show up thus far. He was more convinced than ever that had Jehan simply found the fortitude to make the correct call, the entire situation they were dealing with now would have easily been avoided.

Billions will die because one coward was granted responsibilities well above his station, Gavin shook his head grimly. A waste.

“Forward scans,” he called, turning to the appropriate station. “Any sign of the enemy?”

“We may have spotted ships evacuating the system upon our entry into it, Fleet Commander, but nothing we can be certain of.”

Gavin grunted, satisfied that they’d spotted exactly what they believed they’d spotted. The Oathers were too soft, it was a miracle that they’d lasted this long in the harshness of the Galaxy, but he supposed that in the chaotic reaches of space, anything was truly possible.

“Very good,” he said aloud. “We’ll destroy the infrastructure in passing. Weapons stations are to pay close attention to any launch facilities on the planet. We don’t have time to do a thorough job there, but we can lock them onto that mudball of theirs, at least until someone returns to finish things off.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

*****

Priminae Cruiser Denai Firma

“Abyss below us all, that’s a lot of ships.”

Captain Keir said nothing in response to that; he didn’t even look around to see who’d spoken. The words were terrifyingly on point, however, since he was looking at a force that more than tripled the available cruisers that the Colonies could put into the field, and he was aware that this was not even close to the entire order of battle that had been reported through the communications network.

His Denai was sitting well outside the Stellar gravity well, observing from a distance as the Imperial fleet rampaged through yet another system.

“They’ve destroyed the mining facilities in the belts, sir.”

“Understood. Monitor and record everything,” Keir ordered, trying not to show just how angry he was inside at that moment, though anyone getting a look at his hands would likely be tipped off.

His knuckles were white, and he could feel the tendons practically creaking under the strain. It was an odd feeling if he were being fully honest with himself.

Keir had never desired conflict in his entire life. Like anyone gaining command in the Colonial navy, he’d even been screened to ensure that he wasn’t prone to such excess.

Right then, though, watching the Empire casually destroy lives and property without more than a passing glance as best he could determine…

He suddenly had a deep desire to inflict retribution.

The feeling disturbed him deeply, but for the moment there was nothing he could do about it in either direction. He could neither turn himself in as unfit for duty, which might have been the outcome some years prior before the Drasin had returned from the depths of space and nightmares, but neither could he indulge his desires.

The enemy was too powerful, and one ship… even a cruiser such as the Denai, with all the current weapons and upgrades gained since the Drasin assault on the Terrans… well, there wasn’t a possibility of even having a significant impact, let alone victory.

So, he made himself sit there, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, but otherwise silently watching on as people died.

This was not what I expected when I joined.

Unfortunately, it seemed that his expectations were not something the Universe cared enough about to meet.

“Captain… signal from Central and Ranquil.”

Keir turned sharply to look at the communications station, surprised to hear that. There were no scheduled communications that he should be waiting for, which meant that something had changed. At the moment, anything new was not good news.

“To my station.”

“Yes, Captain.”

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Fleet Commander! Signal pulse from the outer system.”

Jehan rose from his station instantly, crossing the deck at a brisk pace, and leaned over the shoulder of the woman standing watch at the long-range scanning station.

“Show me.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

The replay took only seconds, but it clearly showed a very brief FTL spike that was consistent with a long-range signal. For all that, however, Jehan scowled at the screen as he noted irregularities.

“The signal is weaker than I’d expect,” he offered leadingly.

“It’s not a transmission pulse, Fleet Commander,” the woman said without hesitation. “That is a rebounding signal ghost. It happens when the receiving ship isn’t precisely at the targeted coordinates. At a guess, the signal was likely aimed at the orbit of the planet, but was intercepted well outside the optimal zone.”

Jehan hummed, “I see. Can you locate the receiver then?”

“Not with just this,” she admitted. “However, we may be able to narrow it down if we can pull data from the other fleet’s scanners.”

“I’ll make it happen,” Jehan promised, straightening back up. “Keep working on it with what you have until I do.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

Jehan moved back to his station, calling up the communications protocols for contacting the other Commanders. It would certainly make things easier if we had a better protocol for sharing data from the start.

He made a note to speak with higher command about setting something like that up, eventually. He doubted anyone would jump on it, however, no matter what he thought.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“Fleet Commander, request from Third Fleet.”

“Again?” Gavin groused. “What does Mich want this time?”

“A copy of scanner data, Fleet Commander.”

“What?” Gavin shook his head, “What for?”

There were few reasons that a Fleet would request scanner data from another fleet in the same system. They had enough scanners, all running in unison, that they were inevitably doubling up almost everything they recorded. More than doubled, in fact, generally, scanner data had to be purged… not shared.

“It seems they detected what they believe to be a Light Com signal from the outer system, Fleet Commander. They want to confirm and locate the source.”

Gavin frowned, now a little perplexed.

“Did we detect this supposed signal?” He asked after a moment’s thought.

“We’re checking the logs to confirm, but it does seem like there may have been a pulse there. Too weak to be an outbound transmission, at least one going very far.”

“Define too weak, if you please.”

“Unlikely to reach more than the diameter of the current star system, and even that would be a reach, Fleet Commander.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “So, unless there’s a fleet out there, hiding, it’s not much of a threat…”

Gavin considered it for a moment before shrugging. “Go ahead and share the data. If Third Fleet wishes to chase specters in the black, that is their option.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Fleet scanner data is being received,” Jehan said. “I’ve made it available to all scanning stations and analysis crews. Find me that ship.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

Jehan knew that there wasn’t a lot he could do personally at the moment, but that was the nature of a deployment such as this. Long periods of feeling useless, short ones of sheer terror of failure as everything rode on his decisions.

It was a lifestyle he’d long grown more than merely accustomed to… it was practically an addiction.

“Fleet Commander, I believe we have the ship located.”

Jehan smiled. “Excellent. To my screens.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

His screens changed, new data pouring through them, quickly focusing on the outer system… well out beyond which point the Galactic medium pushed the star’s influence back to a stable point.

The ship, assuming it was out there, was far enough away that they didn’t have anything resembling a physical image, of course. As large as cruisers were, assuming this was such a ship, they were not easily located even on the best of imaging systems anywhere near those ranges.

Still, he had confidence that the ship in question was… or at least had been there.

The question then became something very different indeed.

What do I do about it, hmmm?

“Contact Fleet Commander Misrem, signal to my station,” he ordered.

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

*****

Quarter Fleet Flagship

Fleet Commander Misrem examined the data sent over from Third Fleet, somewhat irritated that her people hadn’t spotted the pulse themselves, but she knew well that running a smaller fleet operation meant losing some degree of shared capacity as well.

It had been spotted, however, and now she had a request from Third to see what could be done about it.

“All ships,” she said, voice firm and clipped. “Standby for maneuvering instructions.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander, target for maneuvering?”

“Target coordinates are available on your consoles,” she said. “As well as maneuvering specifications.”

*****

Priminae Cruiser Denai Firma

Keir looked up from the communication, surprised by it.

“What is the enemy doing?” he asked tensely.

“No changes, Captain. Continuing in through the system, destroying equipment and sites as they pass, but otherwise not slowing or changing course.”

“Good… good,” he said slowly, thinking it through. “Standby to initiate a comm pulse.”

The officers on the deck turned to look at him, expressions somewhat incredulous.

“Sir… that will…”

“Yes, I know it will expose our position. Do it.”

“Yes, Captain.”

It’s about time.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Captain, fleet comm pulse from the Priminae,” the young comm officer said, half turning to face Miram as she stood the deck watch. “They have eyes on an enemy fleet in motion.”

Miram smiled thinly, “Well I suppose that means that it’s time to go to work.”

She pressed a command at her fingertips, opening up a channel.

“Sir?”

“I’m monitoring,” the Admiral answered. “Action on your mark, Captain. The Fleet will follow.”

“Thank you, sir.” Miram said, closing the channel before taking a deep breath. “All hands. Sound to battle stations.”

*****

Chapter 22

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“Comm pulse detected!”

“Locate and isolate,” Gavin ordered, turning to the speaker immediately.

“Systems parsing data now. Fleet Commander Misrem’s Quarter Fleet is already in motion, breaking from formation.”

Gavin scowled. So, there was something to their little specter hunt.

“Are they heading for the right location?” he asked, eyes sweeping back to the data that was flooding one of the screens.

“Still isolating, but they’re in the right general direction, Fleet Commander.”

Gavin twisted up his face, but sighed reluctantly a moment later. “Very well. Continue.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

Gavin was aware that Jehan and Misrem had worked together in the past. If he recalled correctly, Jehan had been her Commander for at least a time, and it seemed like they hadn’t lost that. The Quarter Fleet was already quite some distance up-well from the fleets’ current position, making it clear that they’d managed to rather stealthily slip from formation without tipping off his people until now.

Not bad.

He could admit that much, he supposed. They’d run a hunch, been willing to run with a hunch even, and it had paid off. The question now, of course, was just what was out there.

“Do we have any scans of the region that might indicate enemy ships?” he asked, eyes on the still narrowing section of space the scans were tracking the signal back to.

“Running through old scans of the region now, Fleet Commander, nothing that stands out but it’s not a small section of space.”

Gavin nodded, “Keep working.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Did they spot Fleet Commander Misrem’s action?” he demanded over the chaos that had enveloped the command deck.

“Unknown, but unlikely Fleet Commander,” his scanning officer responded quickly. “The light speed delay would make her action and their response… nearly impossible.”

“Then why did they burn their location like that?” Jehan demanded, though mostly to himself.

“I’m sorry, Fleet Commander, I do not know.”

Jehan just waved the man’s apology off; he couldn’t expect his officers to see the unseen as much as he’d like it if they could.

He had thought that he was ordering Misrem to flank a likely enemy spy, just a ship scouting them out like cowards in the black, but the signal they’d just pulsed out was not something done by anyone looking to stay hidden.

“Source isolated…”

“Put it up,” he ordered.

The screens that made up the data interface through which the ship, and fleet, were operated now filled with ranged scans of the target and Jehan couldn’t help but lean in closer as he took it all in.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” he said after a moment. “There’s just one ship?”

“That we can locate, yes Fleet Commander.”

Jehan hesitated, staring at the screens with a growing sense of unease. He checked the ranges quickly before opening a channel to the Quarter Fleet.

It took several seconds to receive a response.

“Yes, Fleet Commander?” Misrem’s image appeared after the light speed delay was up. “What is it?”

“Be aware,” he said. “The enemy ship appears alone.”

He was careful to stress the word ‘appears’, knowing that Misrem had plenty of experience with the enemy and their stealth technology.

Her expression shifted vaguely as his message reached her, and her response filtered back to him.

“I understand. My ships will be watchful of ambush.”

“Very good,” Jehan said nodding curtly before closing the connection.

He’d expected no less of her, of course, but better to warn without necessity than the opposite. What was worrying him, however, was the fact that there was a single ship visible at all.

If they’re using stealth, why not this ship? Is it baiting us in? Or are they truly alone?

If they were alone, Jehan didn’t think they’d be sticking around much longer. The moment they spotted Misrem’s Quarter Fleet in motion towards them the ship would have to flee… it was the other options that left him wondering.

Certainly, the worst case was that there was a significant number of ships hiding out there somewhere… but that didn’t feel right in his gut, not anymore than the single ship theory did. It didn’t fit with any of what they’d done thus far.

If they’re part of a fleet, why are they the only ship not hidden? And if they’re alone, why expose their position as they had, especially if they weren’t planning on immediately abandoning the location?

It was the fact that the ship was still there that was throwing him off, he realized.

“They’re up to something,” he said with soft certainty, before taking a break and stepping forward. “All ships, full defensive alert. Send to all fleets, Advise same.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander! Orders received across the fleet, dispatch to other fleets sent.”

Come on, then. Let’s see what surprise you’re holding for us this time.

*****

Fifth Fleet Flagship

Fleet Commander Gavin snorted as he stared at the dispatch from the Third Fleet.

“Jehan’s cracked,” he said with a shake of his head. “There is no threat here. A single ship at that range?”

He spat out his disgust, but supposed that he shouldn’t have been surprised. The man had clearly been going downhill for sometime, just managing not to be noticed until recently.

The Empress should never have left him in command when she revoked his Lordship.

A single enemy ship at that range was less than no threat, they were just a distraction that would serve to waste resources that were better used elsewhere. Even with Misrem’s skillful dispatch of her ships in the correct direction, there was no chance that the enemy ship would allow them to bring them to action.

“At least they’re enthusiastic,” he said softly.

“Pardon, Fleet Commander?”

“Nothing, Sub Commander. Nothing at all.”

“Uh… Yes, Fleet Commander.”

If only it weren’t so frustratingly wasteful enthusiasm.

*****

Priminae Cruiser Denai Firma

“Enemy Fleet Contact, Captain.”

“I see them” Keir confirmed, trying not to let the tension get to him as he watched the ships climbing up toward his own vessel.

Most of the ships they were monitoring had remained on their previous courses in response to the comm-pulse the Denai had sent out, but a small… relatively speaking… group had moved almost instantly to intercept, and then had managed to get up to a significant speed and proximity before they’d been spotted.

A little faster and they might have been close enough to make escaping them… tricky.

As it was, though, he had plenty of time to set an evasion course that would swiftly leave the Empire’s ships well and truly behind him.

If only that were the mission.

“Ignore the closing ships,” he ordered reluctantly. “Maintain scans of the main fleet body… go full active on all scanners.”

“Yes, sir! All scanners going to full power scans!”

*****

Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan flinched physically as the enemy ship suddenly lit up like a beacon in the night, their scanners fully active.

“Well, I would hazard a guess and say that they’re no longer hiding from us,” his sub-Commander said dryly.

Jehan shook his head. “Still no sign of any other contacts?”

“Not a thing.”

“I don’t like this,” Jehan said grimly. “They’re up to something. I do not know what, but they are up to something.”

“Agreed, Fleet Commander, but what?”

That was the question, Jehan supposed. He didn’t know, however, and that was slowly becoming a source of tension in his guts that was screaming at him to do… something.

It’s one ship. Why do I feel like the one who stumbled into an ambush?

“Spread the fleet formation, triple the distance between ships,” he ordered.

“Yes, Fleet Commander… but…” his sub-commander hesitated briefly. “That will slow responses in our combat network.”

“I am aware. Do it anyway.”

“As you command.”

*****

Fifth Fleet Flagship

“What in the abyss is that damn fool doing now?”

Gavin was growing even less patient with his counterpart on Third Fleet by the second. The idiot had just ordered his ships so far apart that Gavin doubted they were running better than a fifth the efficiency of the expected communications for a fleet that size.

All over… what?

A single ship?

Jehan’s actions started to get to him, but he refused to give in to unsubstantiated nerves.

And then there’s this enemy ship…

Gavin would admit that whatever the abyss the enemy ship was up to, it was bizarre enough that it was giving him a bad feeling as well. The difference was that he refused to jump at shadows. Without enough information, it was just as likely that they’d jump right into the enemy’s clutches as out of them, after all.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Move our ships to full alert.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

What in the Abyss are they doing just sitting there?

*****

Priminae Cruiser Denai Firma

“Enemy small fleet is still on approach.”

“Ignore them,” Keir said simply. “I want positive coordinates for the main body of the enemy forces.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Keir ignored the undercurrent of worry he could hear, and feel, from his people. Sitting still while even a small fleet was closing on their location wasn’t sitting well, but he had his orders just as they had theirs.

Even if I don’t like it much better than my crew does.

“Coordinates for the main fleet updated, still moving as calculated. They haven’t altered their course, Captain.”

“Good. We’re not worth their time,” Keir said, relieved. “Let’s hope it stays that way. Comm-Pulse loaded?”

“Yes sir. New data loaded.”

“Pulse out.”

“Comm Pulse sent!”

*****

Third Fleet Flagship

“Another pulse!”

Jehan glowered at the data.

They’re scouting us. It’s the only answer that makes any sense, but why sidereal-time updates?

That was what was bothering him, frankly. A scout was normal, it was something he understood, but there was no need for sending urgent updates for the motions of the Imperial Fleets. Not unless…

Jehan hesitated, not liking what he was thinking.

Not unless they can respond in real time… but, from where?

“All ships, full active scans. All quadrants. No power restrictions,” he ordered. “If there’s anything hiding around us… find it.”

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Intel update, Ma’am. Enemy fleet in position as calculated.”

Miram nodded, “Charge T-Cannons.”

“T-Cannons charged, special loads in place.”

“Fire.”

“Firing!”

It took a few moments, just for the cannons of the Odysseus alone, but then more again as the rest of the fleet fired their weapons off into the black ether.

“Weapons cleared. Reloading with conventional nuclear tips in progress.”

“All hands, standby for transition.”

“All hands standing by! All stations report go for transition!”

“Transit Green. Say again,” Miram said. “Transit Green.”

*****

The universe flickered around the ships of the Terran First Fleet and its attached allies, then wavered, and finally seemed to blink as the ships vanished in a puff of impossible particles, launching themselves wildly across the Galaxy at speeds approaching the infinite.

Chapter 23

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“Comm-pulse!”

Gavin scowled. “What are they transmitting now?”

“It’s not them, Sir, it’s centered on us.”

Gavin looked around. “Who or what is…”

He didn’t manage to ask the question before being interrupted.

“Correction! Not a comm pulse! I don’t know what…”

An alert screamed from another console as the entire command deck lurched unwillingly into motion.

“Weapon strike! The Cordefil is reporting massive damage! They’re losing atmospheric integrity!”

“More strikes! We have three… no eight… Twelve ships now reporting hits across the fleet! Fleet Commander, we’re registering strikes against the other fleets as well!”

“Combat alert,” he ordered over the noise. “Full scans, find the enemy!”

Communication pulses were now flooding the area, mostly non-FTL but more than enough of them to add to the chaos that was engulfing the Fleet’s command network.

Gavin spun on the communications center only to find that it was a chaotic mess as the officer there tried to coordinate and make sense of the innumerable signals that had begun to fly around the system that surrounded them.

What in the abyss is going on?

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Well, this is new.

Jehan stood stoically as the alerts ranged through the assembled fleets, knowing that there was nothing he could add at the moment that wouldn’t just slow down the necessary responses to the assault.

Instead, he pulled up mirrors from the scanner stations, looking for any sign of the nature of the strike itself.

Minefield, somehow?

It seemed unlikely, but that was the only possibility that really jumped out at him. There were so many problems with that conclusion, however, that it might as well have been an utter impossibility. The biggest issue, of course, being that they were in a large empty expanse of interplanetary space that any attempt to lace with sufficient numbers of explosives would most certainly have been detected.

What exactly that left, well he was certain. Possibly stealth munitions of some sort, but that description was so vague as to be largely useless.

Jehan checked and noted that Misrem’s quarter fleet was entirely untouched, however, a point that caught his eye.

Interesting. They either knew we’d be here, or managed to target and engage us from range… and likely didn’t have accurate data on the Quarter Fleet because it wasn’t in motion while they scanned our forces with light speed limited systems, only moving after.

Jehan nodded. “Commander.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

“Order to Third Fleet, advice to ever one else,” he said. “Scatter. Maintain squadrons of no less than six cruisers, but separate the fleet in random directions at maximum speed.”

“As you order, Fleet Commander,” the ship commander said, turning back to the crew. “All third fleet ships, form up with designated partners and scatter!”

Jehan ignored the action around him from that point on, again returning to the raw data coming through the innumerable scanners on his ship, and the others in his fleet.

These are not conventional weapons… it’s the Anomalous species, for certain… weapon signature matches their Negative Charged Material weapons, but we didn’t detect the launches….

He paused, or did we?

“Officer Tinuk,” he snapped, calling to the man at the scanning station. “I need to see the records, in exacting detail, of the moments before the first strike. That signal, the one we thought was a comm pulse, break it down.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

Jehan watched as the specialist did his work, isolating and analyzing the signal they’d believed was some sort of communications signal at the time, but that Jehan now believed was likely to be the enemy’s targeting suite. Almost immediately it became clear that the signal was no communication, not unless the enemy casually wasted such power as would run a ship for a not insignificant time for mere communications.

No, he was looking at something new, Jehan could feel it.

Or not new, just… something they’re showing off in the open, finally.

Too many little mysteries from earlier encounters were now pushing into his head, making him certain that he was looking at the answer. Answer to what exactly, he couldn’t quite tell, but Jehan somehow knew deep in his core that he just needed to figure out the question and one of the enemy’s greatest secrets would fall.

“Fleet Commander,” Tinuk called. “We’re detecting matchings signals again.”

Jehan bolted upright. “Focused on our position? Standby all ships for emergency man…”

“No, Fleet Commander, the signal was outside the system.” Tinuk cut him off, something that rarely happened on Jehan’s command deck. “Many signals, actually. I had to isolate one of them before I could match the analysis.”

“Show me,” Jehan shifted directions smoothly.

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

The long-range scans showed nothing, which he supposed wasn’t a surprise exactly since the pulse that swept over his ships hadn’t come from anything they could see. The enemy ships they’d been monitoring all along were still there, but hadn’t done anything he could tell.

By all accounts there wasn’t anything there, but Jehan felt a gnawing in his guts as he stared at the blank section of space.

“Officer,” he said, looking over to where Tinuk was working feverishly.

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

“Long range pulse scan,” Jehan ordered. “Target the center of those pulses. I want to see what’s there.”

“Sir?” Tinuk frowned, looking at him with confusion in his eyes. “There’s nothing there, sir.”

“I can see that, now scan it anyway.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

Jehan turned back to the displays around him as the FTL pulse went out.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Transition complete!”

“General Quarters remains in effect,” Heath ordered firmly.

“Aye Ma’am.”

The fleet had transitioned into open space a few light minutes from the Priminae ships that had played spotter for them, lightspeed signals pouring into their systems faster than any human could manage as everything was spotted, cataloged, and rated by order of urgency.

Thankfully nothing close enough to them was showing up as a threat, which would give them a few minutes to get things fully back into order after the chaos of the transition faded.

“Imperial ships located, Ma’am. On screen.”

The icons designating the enemy fleet appeared, showing the disposition of the enemy as they’d been several hours earlier, the speed of light limiting the rate at which the data could reach them.

Heath hesitated, debating whether to call for a pulse scan to update their information. It would be useful to get real-time data on the enemy, but it would also reveal their presence quite cleanly, and generally it wasn’t worth the effort since by the time they got close enough to need real time data… they were close enough to get real time data through conventional means.

The decision, however, wasn’t entirely hers.

“Scanning pulse, skipper! We just got pinged!”

“Return scan! One ping only.”

“Aye ma’am! One ping only!”

*****

Eric watched silently as the fleet reorientated itself, moving away from the Priminae ships that were powering up to join them, aiming downwell toward the Imperial fleet.

The initial scans were not what he’d wanted to see.

The enemy outnumbered and outmassed his ships by several times over, and by all reports this wasn’t everything the Empire had committed to their offensive.

Marion Tactics then, he thought grimly.

Unfortunately, while emulating the infamous Swamp Fox was one way to bleed out a more powerful enemy, there weren’t a lot of terrain advantages for him to play on in space. If the enemy didn’t want to play to his drum, they could quite firmly reject his efforts.

The FTL pulse caught him momentarily by surprise, though after a moment’s thought Eric realized that it was inevitable that the enemy could cotton on to there being something at play they’d not realized before.

Last hand, I suppose. All cards on the table.

The Odysseus’ answering pulse snapped the enemy ship’s locations into position, and showed a great deal of the damage they’d done with their opening salvo across the stars. The Transition Cannons had no particular problem with transitioning anti-matter, not anymore than they did with anything else, though no one liked the idea of putting that crap into them just on general principles.

The impacts had been… less than he’d hoped, however. He was seeing debris from a small number of destroyed ships, a few others that were clearly crippled. Eric presumed that more were damaged, but it wouldn’t be enough.

He reached out to hit an override comm to the bridge.

“Yes, Admiral?”

“Do not lock us into a close engagement,” Eric ordered. “Passing engagements at most, but let’s keep them chasing us while we use the cannons.”

“Yes sir, that was my thought as well,” Miram told him. “What about the small fleet, though?”

Eric nodded to himself, looking to the small group of ships that must have broken off from the main group sometime before the artillery barrage. They were climbing upwell still, accelerating heavily toward the Priminae ships and, incidentally, the Odysseus fleet.

“If they’re stupid enough to close with us, wipe them out.”

“Yes sir.”

*****

Imperial Quarter Fleet

Alarms were howling from all quarters as Misrem examined the situation.

Her fleet was now accelerating straight on into, not a small squadron as they’d originally believed, but a full battlefleet the likes of which she’d not even really thought the enemy had yet managed to muster.

“Where did that come from?” Someone hissed.

She didn’t bother to reprimand the speaker, thought the words were out of line. The enemy ships hadn’t been there in one moment, and then when the Third Fleet pulsed the sector… suddenly there they were. She dearly wanted to know the answer to that question herself.

“Comms,” she ordered. “Put me on link with Fleet Commander Mich.”

“Yes, Commander.”

It took a moment, establishing a real time link… even over a limited distance such as they currently had between them it was no easy feat to manage a FTL link. Power requirements were very nearly obscene, and really only warships could justify the expenditure.

“Fleet Commander,” Jehan said a moment later as he appeared on the screen. “I see them.”

Misrem nodded. “I fear my current mission is doomed.”

“Yes, it would appear likely. The enemy came from nowhere,” Jehan frowned. “Literally nowhere from what my scanners are telling me. They’re exposing their secrets…”

Misrem nodded grimly, her own expression mirroring her former mentor. “That is not a good thing.”

“No, but it is necessary. We will endure,” Jehan said firmly. “As to your mission, do not allow them to bring you to a close engagement. Even when they were hiding their capabilities, your fleet would not survive. Now? I would not care to guess.”

“Understood, and I agree. Joint goals?”

Jehan was silent for a moment, his attention diverted to one side.

He frowned deeply before looking back with a dour look.

“It seems that we may have those taken from our choosing,” he responded. “Fifth Fleet appears to have made their decision.”

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“Make for the enemy position! Full acceleration!”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

The Fifth Fleet, a little more ragged than it had been, was powering space warping emitters as they began to form up and head upwell from the local primary. The Oathers piddling presence deeper in the system could wait for their full attentions once this had been dealt with.

“Full charges to all weapons, prepare the parasite destroyers for launch!”

Several of his fleet were the massively larger cruisers, bordering on true battleships themselves aside from the fact that most of their mass was actually made of the destroyers they carried. With fewer weapons, the massive cores of those ships were entirely dedicated to the thrust capability so they could carry massively overpowered destroyers that wasted none of their power on the systems needed for interstellar travel, reserving it all for their weapons.

The enemy fleet was impressive, by any standard other than Imperial.

Gavin was determined to end this farce here and now, show these vermin their place… before he ordered it burned out from under them entirely.

*****

Chapter 24

Space Station Liberty, Earth Orbit

“Comm pulse, Admiral! It’s tagged by the Auto.”

Gracen looked up, expression interested. “Send it.”

The message appeared on her system a moment later, a simple text cypher message that had been worked out long-range range messages from the Rogue fleet. Sending more complex data was possible, but it was energy intensive and required more time, which resulted in some security concerns.

A few lines of text was safer, cheaper, and worked almost as well.

She loaded the file, running it through the cypher decoding system, and quickly read through the text that Captain Passer had felt the need to send out at a critical juncture such as this.

Interesting.

The Empire was pulling out all the stops in their moving against Earth, she could say that with conviction to be sure, but Passer’s intelligence put a bit of a new spin on their strategy all the same.

If this is right, and it holds across the Empire… they’re stretching themselves to pull this off.

Gracen stared at the screen as she thought, not rushing to make decisions. She had time. For all that they were in a crisis, it wasn’t one that would be resolved for good or ill anytime in the short term. Passer’s interception of enemy communications was something that needed to be considered carefully.

She wasn’t sure it would help them, in reality. Perhaps if they’d known of it sooner, but that was a beam past the shields now.

That doesn’t mean we can’t use it, however.

“Carmen,” Gracen said, looking over.

Her aide, Carmen Garcia was quickly by her desk.

“Ma’am?”

“Take this,” She said, handing off a hastily scrawled message on paper to the woman. “Pass it along to the NAC rep, if you would. I’ll need a word with him shortly.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Gracen watched the woman leave with the note, mind focused on the options she had before her. What she was thinking about was not within her remit to decide, particularly not in the absence of a direct and imminent threat. Above her pay grade, in a way, and more a political question than one of military tactics, fortunately, or otherwise.

Frankly, if she expected to win this fight, she’d likely file this intelligence for the planners at the Pentagon. Let them worry about the repercussions and whether or not to act on any of it. However, there being a very real possibility of defeat entailed by the Imperial action, well… it might be time to be a little… spiteful.

*****

Prometheus Facility

Edward Palin scowled at his computer as the damnable thing spit back an answer he was far from happy with, but couldn’t find any flaw in either.

No matter what he did, the answers he got didn’t seem to change. Not that he supposed he should expect otherwise. He was a code breaker and linguist, not a strategist or even an armchair general for that matter.

The intercepted communications that were being relayed through the facility, however, were entirely at his disposal thanks to his specialty and access, which gave him a… disturbingly clear view of what the Empire was in the process of doing.

What he couldn’t work out was… why?

Why the insanity? Why such a completely irrational reaction?

Palin was aware of various theories of species interactions that had been propagated through the scientific community and beyond over the years, but none of them quite seemed to fit with what he was seeing in the Imperial actions.

The closest theory that seemed to fit was the idea that any star faring species had to assume that every other species was genocidal. With the survival of the species theoretically at stake, you had to assume the worst… but the Empire was a multi-stellar polity, surrounded by other non-aligned groups. They didn’t try to wipe out the so-called Free Stars, for example, so why this reaction?

The details in the files about Terran humans being considered ‘Xeno’ and that being the cause made even less sense, as far as he could determine.

No species as advanced as the Empire could be that irrational? What did it matter if your junk DNA differed? It was like persecuting someone for the color of their skin, or their hair, or any other completely pointless difference. It was something he’d always believed was the mark of a clearly inferior people.

Palin knew that such attitudes actually had an evolutionary purpose, of course. There was a time, in human… Terran… history when people who looked different from you really were likely to kill you. When the tribe across the valley was competing for resources, well things could be brutal.

Resources, however, were not in short supply among any species that had advanced into space. Honestly, they mostly weren’t in short supply for quite some time before that.

So, Palin considered racist motivations and similar actions to be the mark of a particularly primitive intellect. Not stupid, perhaps, but so mentally crippled by their primitive instincts that they had been unable to conquer as to be a truly pitiful example of humanity.

Now he found himself looking at a species far more advanced than humanity in many ways… but who still were incapable of conquering their primitive, simplistic, bestial minds.

It was… discouraging.

He refused to give up, however.

There is an answer.

There had to be one.

Didn’t there?

*****

Command Center - World Kraike, Imperial Capitol

Emilia Starsbane examined the data that had been transmitted back from the forward fleets, noting that the current primary force was currently somewhat behind in their reporting time.

Not an altogether unusual situation, really. Communicating and coordinating across interstellar distances was somewhat of a slapdash operation at the best of times, all things considered. Still, it put her on edge somewhat all the same.

“Your Majesty, we’ve received reports of increased unrest on several worlds.”

“Inform the local guard that they are to handle such instances and not to clog the Imperial networks with such frivolities,” she snapped coldly, glaring the man back.

He didn’t even observe protocol, merely retreating in silence.

She had no time for those concerns. If the local guard were unable to handle the issues they were facing, then she would replace them wholesale after retaking and pacifying the populations in question. The Xeno were all that mattered from this point until they were entirely eradicated.

Emilia had to remind herself that few others even knew of the Xeno, let alone understood the threat to the Empire they represented… such information had been hidden for a reason, long before she had been born, and that was as should be.

That was why she was here, after all, or any Emperor or Empress. To make decisions based on information that was too dangerous for the majority to know.

*****

Private Colony Ship Saint Mary, Earth Orbit

Burt Conners walked gingerly as he rubbed the motion sickness patch he’d slapped onto the side of his throat, willing the damn thing to start working.

Unlike the advanced starships that the Confederation had been fielding with the help of their alien allies, his Mary didn’t have whatever magical gravity system they used. He’d been forced to settle for rotating habitats, and was learning now just how difficult such things were to get used to.

It would have been better, he was assured, if they’d been able to build them larger… but for a colony ship that had to deal with decent acceleration speeds, there were practical limitations.

At least it’s bigger than the Odyssey Class had to endure, he supposed.

Since speaking with Weston, Connors had been pushing his people as hard as he dared. Not as easy a thing to do as one might think, all things considered. He couldn’t exactly be cracking the whip on his people when their fates were just as tied to them doing the job right as it might to them doing it quickly.

That said, he was confident that they’d achieved miracles.

“Sir.”

“Captain,” Connors greeted the Mary’s Captain, a military man he’d recruited originally with the intent of making him the ship’s XO. Unfortunately, despite the relative lack of deep space time on the man’s record, he was the best currently available on the market and so was now the captain.

The Confederation’s demand for people, practically anyone they could get, was reminiscent of the troubles the US had at the start of the Block war, only even more fervently expressed.

“Welcome aboard the Mary, Sir. I would be honored to show you to your rooms…” Captain Joshua Caide said with a gesture.

“In due time,” Burt forced a smile through the motion sickness he was combating. “I’d like to see the bridge first, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, this way sir.”

*****

Space Station Liberty, Earth Orbit

Rick Berstat had been a high-level ambassador representing, first Canada and then later the NAC, over several decades of history. Over that time, he had, more than once, believed that he’d lived to see everything there was under the sun… at least insofar as it impacted his chosen profession. Every time he made the mistake of believing that, well the universe apparently took it as a challenge,

That was why, perhaps, that now… walking across the decks of a space station in high orbit over the world he’d been born to… he didn’t find himself overly surprised by the circumstances that he found himself mired in.

Shocked, certainly. If one wasn’t shocked by the threat of an alien invasion, well it might be time to retire, all things considered… but not surprised, oddly.

Rick paused at the entrance to the Admiral’s command deck, waiting to be recognized and left to enter by the marines positioned on either side of the door.

“The Admiral will see you now, Sir.”

“Thank you,” Rick said, nodding as he slipped past and into the military command deck.

His gaze swept the activity within, pausing with interest on the representation of the local star clusters with blue, red, and green icons brightly displayed. There was more information about the current situation in the room he found himself in anywhere in the Sol system, and he knew it well. Even the President and Parliament of the Confederation didn’t have as much direct access as Admiral Gracen did.

“Ambassador.”

Think of the devil.

“Admiral,” Rick nodded, turning his attention fully onto her. “You called for me?”

“I need political advice, and possible for you to get on the horn to the basement to get instructions from higher,” Gracen told him, gesturing him over. “We’ve acquired new intelligence on the enemy actions.”

“I see… not exactly my forte, but I assume it’s more than something that is militarily actionable?” Rick asked as he walked over.

“You might say that, yes,” Gracen gestured to the screen. “Have a look.”

Rick looked to the computer and frowned. It was just a few lines of text, but as he read it his eyes widened. When he finished, he looked back. “Are you sure this is accurate?”

“As sure as we can be, given the situation. I wouldn’t rely on it without more confirming material, normally, but…”

“Of course,” Rick nodded. Not much time for independent confirmation just now, is there. “It’s very interesting. I think I see what you want… This is going to throw a wrench in the arguing down on the surface.”

Gracen snorted at that, knowing full well what the man was talking about.

With the power of the Prometheus Facility, they had a terrifying first strike capability. Unfortunately, if they were to deploy it to its full strength all they would accomplish was anger, with the fleet coming at them and murdering billions of, likely innocent, civilians.

Quite a few people were still fully in favor of doing just that, of course. If the Empire wanted to wipe out humanity here, then turnabout was fair play in their minds.

It was an attitude that Gracen even had some sympathy for, but ultimately, she still felt ill in her guts at the thought of committing genocide at all, let along for no real gain. If she believed she could leverage it into a surrender on the part of the Imperial Fleet, she would plug her nose and order the action anyway… but nothing they had learned even suggested that the Empire would bend.

Their leadership is cold, making moves like this knowing what we could do. They’re calling our bluff, forcing us to decide whether we were bluffing or not. I do not want to go down in history as the greatest mass murderer produced by a planet well experienced in creating mass murderers… but if it saved the people here, that is a sacrifice I would make.

Fortunately, or not, that decision was neither hers to make… nor did she believe it would work if she did it.

The Empire’s leadership was not operating rationally, not by her standards at least. Their obsession with the genetic differences between Terrans and Imperial genomes had a taint of near religious fervor in the reports she’d read. This new data from the Auto just made it clearer that her gut was right.

She would not put a world, or worlds, to the torch just to punish their leaders.

But if there were another option…

“I’ll run this down the well, see what the brass and the politicians have to say,” Rick said.

“Quickly, if you would,” Gracen told him. “We have some time, but not much.”

He just nodded firmly and headed out in silence.

Gracen watched him go and the doors secured behind him before she turned her attention back to the board.

Eric and his group should have already opened their initial engagement, she thought as her eyes found the blue icon that was currently centered around a star a little over twenty lightyears from Sol.

Godspeed.

*****

Chapter 25

NACS Odysseus

Eric watched as the Fleet deployed, taking some time to incorporate the Priminae ships into their formations while he watched the deployment of the enemy ships.

What is going on here?

The Imperial response was… all over the map. It was like he was looking at multiple commanders rather than a single coherent fleet. At least… three?

One small fleet might have been tied to one of the others, though, so perhaps only two.

Eric reached out and opened up a channel to the fleet commanders of his own group.

“Captains, Fleet Command,” he said simply. “Ignore the small fleet for the moment, they’re breaking off. I want long-range fire focused on the advancing element, but check fire until I clear the order.”

His captains quickly acknowledged the order while Eric wordlessly shifted back to observation of the enemy and their actions.

The enemy fleet elements that had apparently taken evasive action during the initial barrage were still pulling themselves back together, so his interest was focused on the rather large element that was even than charging up-well in their direction.

Ship mass readings are higher than expected, Eric noted. They match our initial encounters with the enemy… God that feels so long ago now.

The initial Imperial ships they’d dealt with had been carriers more than straight battle cruisers, deploying smaller parasite destroyers as they moved into combat. By all readings and reports, said destroyers were far heavier armed than they should be by their size… internal space was normally dedicated to FTL drive mechanisms instead of being left for weapons. However, they had conventional power plants instead of the big planetary mass singularities of the mother ship.

“Check fire on Transition Cannons,” he ordered over the link, reinforcing his earlier order. “Wait for the enemy to deploy destroyers.”

Without the disruption of a gravity core, those destroyers were fodder to the T-Cannons. Eric just wished that he could take them out prior to deployment, all in a single blow, but his experience told him that would be a waste of munitions. Only a tiny fraction of the nuclear warheads would reintegrate correctly, the tachyon coherence being disrupted by the twisting of spacetime caused by the cores.

“Fleet vessels, come to course Four One Niner, Mark Three negative relative to the system plane.”

This, he knew, would be a battle of maneuver more than most. He had to bleed the enemy, while simultaneously guarding his own ships as jealously as he possibly could.

That might seem like it was obvious, but few battles were really fought in such a way. Far more often you simply had to take hits in order to secure the position to claim victory, but victory was not his goal here. This fleet, even if they could take it, would not be the end of the Imperial advance.

Eric knew that his ships were needed desperately, not just now… but in the near future as well. Every loss would be a disaster…

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan gritted his teeth as he ordered his fleet to form up and move into position to support the advance of the Fifth Fleet.

He considered the charge to be foolish, but there was little he could do about such things. The Command of Imperial Fleets was absolute to the Fleet Commander assigned them. Only Her Majesty could reverse his order, or that of his counterparts, which was as it should be… even if it occasionally resulted in maddening decisions.

The enemy fleet was no small force. It was, in fact, the most powerful one of the Anomalous species he’d yet seen in one place… and that included his brief time within their very home system. It worried him deeply about how much they’d grown in the time since his last direct conflict with them.

If this is indicative of their average growth of power, this will be a costly adventure indeed.

The costs were not his to be concerned with, however.

“Fleet Commander, the Fifth Fleet is ahead of our ability to cover them.”

“I see it.” Jehan confirmed, hesitating slightly before he opened a channel. “Fleet Commander Gavin, I strongly advise you slow your advance long enough for my ships to close at least within support range.”

The channel closed silently a moment later with no response, not that he had truly expected any. Jehan knew well that his current reputation among his peers was… less than stellar, or at least rather inconsistent. Whether his fellow Fleet Commander would take his advice or not, well at least he was now on the record for offering it.

“Increase our power to full,” he said calmly. “Spread formation, watch for enemy stealth vessels.”

“As you will it, Commander!”

Jehan didn’t know if they’d had time to deploy their smaller ships into this situation, but he had to assume they were there. It would slow his actions, but better that than the alternatives.

All that remained for the moment… was the waiting.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“Fleet Commander, message from Third Fleet.”

Gavin glanced down at the computer where the message was transcribed, snorting in annoyance. “Ignore it.”

The enemy numbers were enough to be a challenge, to be certain, particularly with the known capabilities the anomalous species had, but they were nowhere near sufficient to take his ships in turn. If Jehan and Third Fleet wanted in on the victory it would be up to them to catch up, he certainly wasn’t going to be making it easy on them.

They were accelerating fast, approaching lightspeed thanks to the warping of space from their drives, and the range to the enemy was dropping quickly enough that new updates were coming faster and faster and the delay between them dropped, providing faster reports on the enemy disposition even without FTL scans.

It was this that brought a curse to his lips as he spotted the enemy fleet’s maneuver and watched them accelerate on his screens.

They intend to keep us at a distance, do they? Cowards.

“Use of extended power is authorized,” he said. “All ships, increase acceleration.”

That shook a few people listening, but he ignored them. All Imperial military vessels were capable of far more than they normally used, simply because the cost of maintenance trended much higher once one moved past certain levels. Maintenance was the least of his current concerns, however, so it was time to show the vermin just what an Imperial ship was truly capable of.

“Standby Destroyer launch,” he ordered next, already running the numbers to calculate the best speed they could sling the powerful smaller ships out into space at.

We will overwhelm them in a single strike and end this farce.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Blasted fool.”

Jehan mumbled his deprecation, not wanting to spread his opinion of his fellow far and wide, but he had no doubt that some had heard him just the same.

The Fifth Fleet had just exceeded their nominal full power, stressing their spaceframes and systems badly in exchange for the extra speed. They would also be slamming into planetary debris, some of which might well be massive enough to escape the gravity well trap of their space warps, thus inflicting more damage beyond simply stressors.

It left him with an unenviable decision to make, and only seconds to make it.

If he followed his fellow, his fleet would be badly stressed and, if this battle were not clearly decisive, that would play badly into the survivability of future conflicts. If he did not follow, the missing power of his fleet might allow the enemy to escape. Certainly, that would be the claim Fleet Commander Gavin would make in any case.

“Fleet Commander? Fifth Fleet is beginning to move away from us once more.”

Damn it.

Jehan opened his eyes. “Increase power to match.”

“As you will it, Fleet Commander!”

The Third Fleet surged forward, chasing down their fellows as they stretched physics to the breaking point.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Well now, that’s interesting,” Eric said softly as he watched first one group of ships, then another, surge forward at far more than the normal ‘maximum’ they’d registered for the Imperial vessels.

He wasn’t surprised that they were holding some power back in previous encounters, of course. Confederation Military Policy did much the same. Full power was well short of Full Military power, after all, and with good reason.

Any ship that went to full military power was going to be spending time in spacedock, whether it was strictly needed or not. The level of stress twisting spacetime to that degree could inflict on a ship’s hull and frame alone was never to be underestimated.

He was surprised, however, that the enemy had opted to show one of their cards this early in the exchange. Of course, he was being fast and loose with previously jealously guarded hole cards himself, so perhaps that was what triggered the Imperial response.

Ultimately, I suppose it doesn’t matter all that much, Eric supposed as he made a few calculations and adjusted his course directions before sending corrections out to the fleet.

At the ranges they were playing at, the Imperial forces had unveiled their capabilities far too early for them to be properly utilized. Personally, Eric would have kept that power in reserve until the enemy let him close enough that he could use it to either escape, or prolong, a shooting engagement… as needed.

Very impulsive, this one, Eric decided. Impatient. Not a good trait for a commander in space, or anywhere else I suppose.

Patience was one of the key traits for any serving military, at least in his experience. Hurry up and wait was practically the mantra of military units throughout history, no matter what they claimed their mottos to be. However, in space, that was magnified exponentially.

Surprising the enemy was not something easily accomplished when they could see you coming from light hours out.

He could read the enemy’s intentions in their actions. They wanted a fast, decisive, conflict. A Clean win, no matter the cost they had to pay for it.

Too bad for you, I refuse.

*****

AEV Boudicca

The entity who identified as Boudicca stood in the cold airless waste that was the outer hull of her… ship? Her body? She didn’t know properly how to describe any of it, a truly frustrating feeling. Her experiences were the experiences of her crew, her perspective an amalgam of theirs… and none of what they knew, what they had seen and experienced, could prepare her for the reality that embraced her.

How do others like me handle this?

It was a question she had no answers to, and she was loathe to ask the one other that she knew of who might have some form of response that might make sense.

For the moment, all she could do was put the existential thoughts from her mind and focus on the current situation.

Oddly, that was perfectly clear.

Her mission appealed to her on every level of her being, from her own mind to the entrenched expectations others had of her.

Protect the Earth, destroy her enemies.

Boudicca’s gaze turned starward, deep down the sloping well she could feel from where she stood. It was a hole in space, or at least an indentation, and all lines led to the local star that burned so far away as to be barely brighter to her than any other in the black sky around her.

She could feel the enemy approaching in much the same way. Their drives were twisting the threads of space, turning them away from the smooth curves induced by the star, snarling spacetime unmistakably once she recognized what was causing it.

Without a thought, her bow was in her hand, an arrow waiting to be nocked.

She knew her weapon was not a bow in reality, but rather another little snarl of spacetime. Now that she was focusing on what she had previously done from instinct she could see what she had done. Conflicting snarls of spacetime braced against one another, leveraging each other’s strength to create a tension that was filled with enormous energy to be released.

And released it shall be…

She nocked the arrow, pulling back her bow to full draw as she adjusted her aim… and then she paused, considering before reluctantly easing back the tension and relaxing her pull.

Not yet. Not without orders.

*****

Sandra Hyatt sat, a calm island in the chaos that was bubbling around her, eyes on the enemy course as she made the adjustments the Admiral had sent along.

His strategy was clear enough, keeping the enemy out of their extreme range while they peppered them with whatever they could to bleed out their numbers, followed by a simple transition jump to keep the Terran and Priminae ships safe.

A simple tactic, and not one she expected the enemy would allow for, not for long at least, but it made sense in the opening moves of the conflict.

Weston had to know, of course, what would happen when the enemy chose to stop playing that game… but that was a problem for the future.

“Captain.”

Sandra did her best not to jump.

She really did.

She also failed miserably.

“What is it, Boudicca?” she asked after she got herself back under control, her heart racing wildly even as she struggled to remain composed while looking over to the entity.

“Permission to engage the enemy, Ma’am.”

Sandra blinked, now her focus sharpened, and her heart rate was forgotten.

“Explain.”

“The enemy are within my sight,” Boudicca said. “And if I can see it, I can kill it.”

Sandra nodded slowly, relaxing back. “Hold that thought. I will confer with the Admiral.”

“Of course, Captain.”

This is going to be a fun conversation.

*****

Chapter 26

NACS Odysseus

Eric closed the connection with the Boudicca, mind honestly somewhat perplexed by the concept he’d just been presented with. There was just something fundamentally wrong about engaging a starship at relativistic ranges and speeds… with a bow.

He sighed deeply, shaking his head.

I swear, the universe makes less and less sense the more I learn.

“Odysseus.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

The entity was in his more modern-looking armor at the moment, though still powerfully drawing on Greek imagery and stylistic notes, Eric saw.

“I know you heard the conversation,” Eric said tiredly. “Thoughts?”

The entity frowned briefly, not one of irritation but one of deep thought.

“I had not honestly considered some of the methods that Boudicca used during our brief duel,” Odysseus admitted. “I cannot say why, though perhaps it has to do with the perception of the crew that formed us. The Bo’s crew has had time to be used to my existence after all… Still, when she used her bow to fire on me, I was able to instantly recognize what she had accomplished with it...”

“Which is?” Eric prompted as the entity trailed off.

Odysseus hesitated uncharacteristically. “I’m not entirely certain I have the language needed to describe it. The words may not even exist, yet at least, so please excuse me if I can’t quite convey it clearly…”

Eric was well familiar with that problem; it was something that tended to crop up when dealing with experts who had to dumb down their descriptions of an intricately complex issue. Many times, there just weren’t any words in common use, and the ones that did work were so specific and intertwined with esoteric meanings that they were utterly useless for most people.

“Understood,” he said. “Just give me what you can.”

Odysseus nodded curtly, producing his bow with a flourish. The weapon appeared to be of ancient make, a taught bent-back design that had little in common with modern interpretations, but Eric doubted it had anything truly in common with the ancient design it was mimicking, all things considered.

“My bow, like Boudicca’s,” Odysseus said. “Is less a physical object so much as…space-time under tension. The arrows are much the same, though in a different way, in the case of the munitions the tension is considerably higher and less stable.”

Eric rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know that much about the technicalities involved, but you almost sound like you’re describing a variation of a singularity.”

“Not an altogether incorrect description, though the mechanisms involved are quite different,” Odysseus said. “The singularity is more… spacetime under compression, though that isn’t entirely correct either. In the bow, and arrows, the tension is more a balance of counteracting forces. The bow uses that tension to launch the arrow, while the arrow is really little more than a spacetime explosive… in layman’s terms.”

Well, that makes me feel so much better… not, Eric thought dryly. Outwardly, however, he just nodded, and Odysseus apparently was content to react to only his outward thoughts. The boy is learning.

“Very well, I’ll accept that for the moment,” he said. “What about capabilities?”

“Lightspeed limited, line of sight…” Odysseus hesitated. “Well… perhaps not that, but firing around large planetary and stellar objects would require calculations that I’ve not yet had the opportunity to attempt.”

“Damage potential?”

“Versus armor? Significant… versus a ship’s space-time warp? I confess to a lack of knowledge there,” Odysseus admitted. “The information within the crew on such matters is lacking, for obvious reasons, and while I… and Boudicca… have an instinctual understanding of the formation of space-time, we still lack practical application. I cannot say as to the actual effect.”

Eric nodded. “Understood. Risks to the ships involved?”

“Negligible,” Odysseus responded instantly. “Boudicca attempted to engage me with such, within the Bo. Had I not destroyed the tension, they would have caused rather a lot of damage of course, but so long as the weapons do not strike the ships, there will be no risk.”

“Very well. I’m going to authorize a pair of shots,” Eric decided. “One from each of you, if you’re willing.”

“Always, Admiral.”

“Very good. Target the heaviest cruisers. They’ll be warping spacetime significantly more than any of the others,” Eric said. “But not the ones currently retreating. I want to encourage the ones who opt to run, though I have doubts whether it will be of much effect.”

“I understand,” Odysseus confirmed. “We should easily be able to determine those targets… ah, it would be best, I believe, if the order to Boudicca comes from you, Sir.”

“I’ll see to it. Coordinate with our gunners, however.”

“Aye, sir.”

Odysseus saluted smartly, fading away a moment later, leaving Eric alone with his thoughts… or, visibly so at least. He shook his head ruefully but focused on rolling with the punches because he had little doubt more would be coming.

The Gods aren’t crazy, they make crazy seem normal and right.

*****

On the command deck of the Odysseus, Miram Heathe was sipping at a steaming cup of coffee, more as a way to distract portions of her brain that were gibbering in disbelief at the concepts just communicated to her. The capabilities of the ship she commanded were not to be underestimated, of course. Any Heroic class cruiser had the sheer firepower to depopulate a continent in a matter of hours, if that long.

However, there was something visceral about the capabilities of the entities, and she continually found herself falling down a rabbit hole of disbelief and consternation, with every impossible and bizarre thing she dealt with merely masking something even worse beyond.

A tap of a finger was all it took to open a channel to the Odysseus’ sister ship, and Sandra Hyatt was instantly on her screen, the look on the other Captain’s face almost certainly a mirror of her own.

“Are we ready?” Miram asked with a twist of her head.

“Ready.”

“Very well.” Miram took a breath, unable to quite believe the next words coming from her mouth. “Archers… nock your arrows.”

*****

Odysseus hull (exterior)

Odysseus formed his bow with a thought, looking down-well toward the distortions in spacetime he could feel through the interwoven fabric of the universe. The star, of course, was the largest of such distortions, but the planets and the ships were easily sensed all the same.

Judging the range was an interesting process, he found. There were a couple of crewmen who knew archery, which gave him an unusual conflict between what parts of him believed he should be doing, while other parts knew he needed to do.

He nocked the arrow at the order from the captain and held the bow at rest, waiting for the next order while he glanced over to see his opposite number standing out on the deck of the Boudicca thousands of kilometers away.

Odysseus nodded to her, only to get a glare and an aloof twist of the head in return. He didn’t let it bother him, though, and smiled cheerfully in return.

*****

Boudicca hull (exterior)

When the Captain’s words echoed in her mind, a fraction of a moment after her thoughts had signaled the very same thing. Boudicca formed her bow and an arrow to match, slipping it into place but waiting for the order to draw.

She felt the gaze from the neighboring vessel and glanced over to see the Roman… No, the Greek, looking in her direction, but blew him off to focus on the task.

She couldn’t quite manage to suppress the visceral reactions she had to the other, but for the moment it wasn’t her most pressing concern by any means.

“Archers… Draw.”

She didn’t hear the words, of course, not in the depths of space, but the command rang clear as she brought up her bow and began to draw the string back to her ear.

Boudicca’s instinct was to arc the shot, but she corrected that immediately. Gravity here, as on a planet, would affect the trajectory but it was rather more like firing straight down a well than trying to send a shot across a battlefield.

An odd realization, she thought as the string came to a stop near her right ear and she held the weapon in tension, awaiting the final command.

*****

NACS Odysseus

This is going to be hard to explain on the reports, Miram thought with dry humor as she eyed the telemetry feed, wondering which of the enemy ships the pair of entities were in fact targeting.

That was another issue that she hadn’t considered until it was right in her face. Neither Odysseus nor Boudicca were tied into the ship’s data net, and she wasn’t sure that they’d be able to identify a specific ship on it at that range even if they were.

Oh well, I suppose that’s what experiments are for.

Miram carefully didn’t think about the sheer insanity of experimenting in the middle of a live fire battle, but frankly, that was the least crazy part of any of this.

She took a breath, steadying herself as she exchanged glances with Captain Hyatt over the comm system. The pair nodded, then turned and spoke as one.

“Loose.”

Odysseus and Boudicca both loosed their arrows as one, the pair of twisted sections of spacetime flashing out from their ships at the speed of light as they began to plummet down the stellar well toward the enemy climbing up to meet them.

******

AEV Boudicca

“Scanners! Do we have anything?” Sandra demanded, leaning forward, intense curiosity filling out her expression.

The officer standing watch at the scanners didn’t answer right away, as he was too focused on his task, but after a moment he straightened up from the scopes and looked back.

“I… I think so?” He said.

“You don’t sound certain about that,” she said dryly. “Show me.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

The repeaters in front of her lit up with the display forwarded from the sensors, along with an overlay hastily put over it all by the officer on watch.

“You can see a flicker here, on the gravitational system,” he said, circling the artifact on the screen with a red line. “But it only lasts a fraction of a second before we lose it. The shot, whatever it was, moved too fast to catch it directly. I’m assuming it’s actually moving at, or very near to, lightspeed.”

Sandra nodded. “That is in line with what Odysseus informed Admiral Weston of.”

The man nodded. “Then this is the best we’ll get at this range. I’m adjusting longer-range systems to look for it, Ma’am, but it may take more shots before we can narrow it down.”

“Let’s see what effect these have first, shall we?” she asked wryly.

“Aye Ma’am.”

*****

NACS Odysseus

Eric was silent as he studied the sensor feeds from both the Odysseus and Boudicca, but also from the other ships in the fleet. The barest flicker of artifacting on the gravity scans was enough to convince him that Odysseus’ explanation was close to the mark, but he knew that he would need to bring in someone with a much better understanding of space-time physics to get anything more out of it.

For the moment that was neither possible nor, fortunately enough, necessary. If the attack worked, excellent, they would use it. He wouldn’t refuse any advantage at all at the moment, not even one he barely understood. If it didn’t, well then pity though it might be, they were no worse off than they had been previously.

At the moment, all Eric was honestly concerned with the results.

Unfortunately for him, he was going to have to wait for those.

Range to target… three light hours and closing.

Quite frankly, if either of them even hit the target at this range, he would be incredibly impressed. He certainly wouldn’t allow his crews to open fire with lasers until the enemy was far closer.

*****

Odysseus hull (exterior)

Odysseus lowered his bow, feeling strangely exhilarated by the effort, in a way he couldn’t manage to get into any of the words he knew. This was a growing issue for him, he found, something that hadn’t plagued him nearly so much in the earlier days of his life.

He had done fewer things then, but somehow, they had been simpler.

Now, it seemed that more and more often he was encountering situations that his crew simply couldn’t comprehend but were instinctively obvious to him. This, on its own, was not the problematic part… no, it was the sheer inability on his part to explain his instincts.

It made things rather difficult for establishing proper communication, which was one of the fundamentals of running a warship.

That was a problem, and one that he had to solve.

The issue, of course, was that he simply didn’t know how.

Reluctantly setting aside that concern for the moment, in favor of more pressing issues, Odysseus turned to glance over the vast abyss to where Boudicca was still in his sight. The other entity had also lowered her bow and was looking down the range with an intensity that Odysseus recognized with some trepidation.

She, if such a pronoun could be applied to either of them, seemed almost… hungry as she waited for the results of the shot.

Odysseus simply turned away. He knew it would be some time before the ‘arrows’ arrived, and until then there was nothing to be gained by watching.

With a thought, he vanished from the hull of the vessel, leaving nothing but the faint scratching of interstellar dust where he had stood only instants earlier.

*****

Chapter 27

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“What are the enemy vessels doing?” Jehan asked, looking at the data feed that was coming through, finding something odd about it.

“Near as we can determine, Fleet Commander, they’re… waiting,” his Analyst answered, similarly puzzled. “They joined forces with the ships we previously detected, and altered course to extend their options for a passing engagement, but have neither increased acceleration nor made any attempt to close or evade Fifth Fleet’s advance.”

That unfortunately fit very much with his own analysis of the situation, and Jehan was rather displeased to be proven right.

These people have proven far too skilled to be underestimated, yet Gavin is charging directly into the teeth of their weapons… and dragging us along with him.

By this point, Jehan knew that the enemy were not fool enough to have missed the Imperial incursions and the differences from earlier probing engagements. They had to be aware of the threat to their system.

He might consider the anomalous species to be foolish in many ways, but he refused to be so stupid as to believe that they were too foolish to recognize what was coming or too weak to make good on their threats. They had the capability to inflict harm on the Empire in ways that had never before happened.

The sheer damage that could be caused by their so called ‘strategic’ weapon alone was not to be underestimated, nor invited to be utilized without concern for the consequences.

Jehan fully believed that the Empress was aware of that, which is the only reason he didn’t question his orders. If she were willing to invite such harm upon the Empire, he had to entrust that she was not doing so foolishly in turn. His job was to the accomplish the task set to him with the absolute minimum of damage to Imperial assets.

Accomplishing such a task generally did not involve charging blindly into the teeth of an enemy who were clearly pulling all their secrets from the shadows… he hoped it was all of them… and bringing them to the field of battle.

“Give me a channel, secured, to Fleet Commander Misrem’s flagship,” he demanded, turning and heading back to his private station.

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

This enemy was not to be underestimated, and while he might be tied into this assault by the duty to support the Fifth Fleet, he would do his utmost not to be caught quite so painfully in the open by them again.

*****

Imperial Quarter Fleet Flagship

Fleet Commander Misrem had seen more of this enemy than she ever wanted to, and not one bit of it comforted her with the current situation as she brought her ships about from their initial evasive maneuver to rejoin and form up with Third Fleet in its pursuit of the charging Fifth.

Charging into the teeth of their weapons might be necessary, but it was not to be taken as lightly as Fleet Commander Gavin appeared to be doing. His own formation was sloppy, with the faster cruisers already beginning to edge out into a lead while they left the bulkier cruisers slowly but steadily behind.

She knew they would be able to defeat the enemy.

That wasn’t the issue, of course. The anomalous species were certainly capable, dangerous, foes… but their strength was not such that they could fight the massed strength of the Empire. What she desperately wanted to limit, however, was the damage that would be suffered before they fell.

Particularly given that she was potentially part of said damage.

Overly aggressive fool, Misrem sighed.

Not normally a critique she would ever consider laying against her fellows, aggressiveness was not a trait to be denigrated in the Imperial military after all, but there were limitations.

She just hoped that they could keep Gavin from discovering his.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Fleet Commander Gavin sneered as he eyed the telemetry data coming in from the warship’s long-range scans.

The enemy were being foolish, seemingly waiting for his ships out there at the rim of the system, in what had to be a clear challenge to the Empire and himself. It was a challenge he would make them regret.

“Status of parasite destroyers,” he demanded.

“All destroyers are to standby for launch.”

“As you order it, Fleet Commander.”

Gavin nodded easily as he settled into the seat at his console, eyes on the various telemetry feeds that were being mirrored from their specialized stations around him. The enemy were still practically idling along in their arrogance, while he noted that the Third Fleet had accelerated to match his own fleet’s position, while Misrem’s Quarter Fleet were coming around to join as well.

Good. They’re not totally worthless, at least.

With the Imperial Fleets at his back, and the enemy ahead, Gavin was more satisfied than ever with the way the battle was proceeding. Certainly, it would be better if they’d been able to properly trap the enemy within the gravity well of the system, but it was clear that the enemy wouldn’t be able to run without at least a passing engagement now.

Gavin would accept that, knowing that his numbers would eventually drag the enemy down. No matter how long it took, the end was now inevitable.

Even if I must track them across the Galaxy.

It was not often that the Empress let her fleets fully off the leash, with such simple and wide-ranging orders. Normally, while Fleet Commanders had great latitude in how they accomplished their tasks, the tasks themselves were far more specified than those orders he currently held to.

Gavin did not know what these had done to properly earn an order of death from Her Majesty, nor did he particularly care. They had defied the Empire for too long already, and that was enough for him.

“Fleet Commander, we’ve reached high enough from the stellar object to break lightspeed.”

“Excellent. Increase power to warp and launch the Destroyers.”

“As you will it, Commander.”

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

You damned fool, Jehan thought with growing irritation. Did you not read the reports?

There was a reason he hadn’t selected carrier rated cruisers for this mission, and the enemy had likely been waiting for the very maneuver he was watching the Fifth Fleet undergo right then.

“Distance to the enemy contacts?” he asked, shifting his focus.

“Two full tenth cycles at light, Fleet Commander.”

Jehan gritted his teeth but nodded and started a clock.

“Spread formation, get clear lines of fire around the Fifth,” he ordered.

Idiot he might be, but Jehan was determined to provide the best support he could manage.

This will be far more expensive than it should have been.

That, however, he supposed had been a certainty from the start of this campaign.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Time ticked down as the ships continued their interminably long run, leading to Gavin impatiently checking the clock more often than nearly anything else.

His ships had positioned themselves well for the assault, and the enemy was still just there waiting for them, as though stricken with fear so bad it had paralyzed them. Gavin doubted that was the case. No doubt, they had some trick up their sleeve they intended to pull on him, but he was not the other commanders they had faced.

He would take the damage they inflicted and pull through it until the enemy was dead or in full flight.

No other option was acceptable.

As the fleet continued their ascent, Gavin busied himself by examining the enemy formation and comparing it to records, making minor adjustments in his tactics for when they mounted their intercept. At the moment, he had to assume that the enemy fleet would, at some point, break from their current posture and make a run for interstellar space.

This was complicated by the fact that they were already outside the gravity well of the stellar sphere, and thus could immediately accelerate to high warp velocities while his own fleet had only just broken through the lightspeed barrier and were still maintaining relatively low velocity warps while ramping up.

If the enemy made the mistake of underestimating him, however, he would make them pay for their hubris, of that Gavin had no doubts at all.

His musings, however, were cut short by an alarm blaring through the command deck.

He got up, moving in the direction of the commotion.

“Report,” Gavin snapped.

“Impact of some sort recorded on the Mira-Sinow,” his scanner tech answered, looking confused. “Severe damage. The cruiser is losing velocity, its warp field has been compromised.”

“Impact? What impact could have caused that?” Gavin demanded, confused as much as he was angered by the loss.

“Unknown. They’re still establishing damage, Fleet Commander.”

Gavin snorted, unsurprised by that statement. Anything moving fast enough to break through a starship’s warp field and actually impact the vessel itself was either a photon, or was moving fast enough to cause serious issues.

“Tell them to isolate the cause of the impact, and its nature,” he ordered. “If they must drop out of formation, so be it. The fleet will continue on.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“An impact?” Jehan demanded, confused.

“Yes, Fleet Commander,” his communications officer responded with a shrug. “The Mira has dropped from the Fifth’s line of battle, and are apparently investigating the nature of the damage.”

Jehan wasn’t surprised by that, or rather he was both surprised and not by it. If the cruiser had been struck that hard, dropping out was a necessary maneuver of course, but the fact that they’d been struck was utterly mind boggling to him.

Occasionally, very occasionally, impacts would happen while space-time was being warped by the ship’s drives, but those were extremely rare and almost always the product of high velocity interstellar debris, generally only happening within a few dozen lightyears of a relatively recent super-nova.

There was nothing of that nature in the local stellar neighborhood, and he couldn’t imagine what else would have the force needed to punch through a full powered space-warp.

“Keep me apprized of their discoveries,” he ordered.

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

I do not like new things that just happen to occur while we are engaging the anomalous species. They are rarely as happenstance as we would like.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Enemy fleet has accelerated past lightspeed, Ma’am. Currently moving at 1.2c, slowly increasing as they leave the stellar well.”

“Understood,” Miram said without looking up. “Continue to track and inform me when they’re less than a light-hour from our position.”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

The Admiral’s plan seemed to be working thus far, she had to admit, though just standing there at the end of a long shooting range was hardly something that Miram was enjoying, but for whatever reason it seemed like the Empire either wasn’t suspecting any subterfuge or just didn’t care.

Most likely the latter, she thought with grim amusement.

Certainly, they had delivered enough lessons to the Empire over the previous conflicts that they should know better by this point. Still, if they didn’t want to learn, far be it for her to complain.

She checked the time, though, mentally counting off the period since the entities had fired their… bows…

That just doesn’t sound right, I don’t care how many times I hear or think it, Miram sighed.

Still, if they’d struck, there should be a reaction shortly, so she pulled up the repeater display for the long-range scans… and waited.

******

Admiral Weston had the long-range scans up on the large board that dominated the front of his command deck, eyes on the enemy formation with intense interest.

There had been no way for Odysseus or Boudicca to target a specific ship and then designate that ship on the tactical grid, so he was waiting for… well anything to happen. The seconds ticked down, not just the time for the shot to get to the enemy ships of course, but for the light from the event to get back.

When it came it was… almost disappointing.

There was no brilliant flash of light, no sign of massive destruction or the like, just one solitary ship that began to lag behind. At first Eric didn’t even think he noticed it, but after a short time it began clear that one of the enemy ships was falling out of formation and he leaned in with intense interest.

Is that it?

He couldn’t be sure, but if it wasn’t then the timing was suspect to be sure.

It has to be…

Eric licked his lips, trying to imagine what had happened on the enemy ship, but failing entirely. He just didn’t have any sense of comparison, if he were being honest about it, and all he could think was that… something had happened.

It was frustrating, but for the moment he would take it as a sign that the experiment had been not only worth conducting, but that they would need to do more in the very near future.

*****

Chapter 28

NACS Odysseus

Odysseus practically vibrated with excitement as he observed the results of their little experiment. He had honestly never even considered manipulating space-time in the manner of which Boudicca had done on an instinctive level almost immediately after waking. Now that he had, however, all he could see were new possibilities in the universe around him.

Manipulating spacetime was near on to an instinctive thing, but the idea to do so simply wasn’t, which made him wonder what else could be accomplished.

He was standing out on the exterior hull of the starship, eyes cast down the gravity well as he contemplated the concepts and watched the approach of the enemy. They had not paused during the attack he and Bo had perpetrated, but honestly, he’d have been surprised if they had.

The Empire were nothing if not a dogged enemy, the sort that would not break easily. Their discipline was hard, but of the sort that Odysseus knew would also be brittle. Breaking them would not be easy, however once accomplished…

Odysseus paused in his thinking, forming his spear in his right hand with a thought as he recalled the myth of his namesake.

Breaking a hard enemy can be accomplished, but rarely is it possible through battle directly. These Imperials have no champion the likes of Hector, not that we have found at least… and even if they did, killing such a man a thousand lightyears from his people would not have the same effect. We could break these fools here, but the Empire would not fall to a simple trick as the Trojans did.

It was a problem, one he had no direct solution to, no matter how much he pondered it.

Here, he was but a single warrior. The Amalgam of a great vessel of war’s crew, perhaps, but still just the one. Against an Empire he was willing to do whatever he could, but Odysseus did not see anyway he could make a true difference.

Something would have to change.

Somehow.

Odysseus simply did not know what… or if it would happen before all was lost.

*****

Eric examined the numbers as the lightspeed scanners caught up to the FTL pulse and they got a better look at the ships that were climbing steadily up toward his fleet.

They’ve deployed their destroyers. Interesting, we haven’t seen those for a while. Time to show them why they stopped deploying them against us… even if they haven’t entirely worked out the reasons for themselves yet.

He reached down, opening up a fleet-wide channel.

“All ships, arm Transition Cannons. Nuclear warheads only. Target the enemy destroyer contacts.”

Acknowledgements began filtering back, in order of range of the Odysseus, as the ships in the fleet equipped with the T-Cannons showed their weapons systems flickered from grey to green as they were brought online.

Eric knew that the big cannons were pivoting into position as the ships exchanged targeting data, ensuring that none of the enemy were accidentally double booked as it were.

Rough targeting was done with lightspeed data, but that wouldn’t be enough to ensure the effect he wanted, so Eric waited for the cannons to be dialed mostly in. Then he opened a second channel to Captain Heathe directly.

“Captain, FTL Pulse out, if you would.”

“Aye Sir. Pulse out.”

Eric shifted back to the fleet-wide as the pulse of FTL particles exploded downrange from the Odysseus.

“All ships, adjust targeting vectors to real time coordinates. Fire for effect, TOT,” Eric said. “Range is green.”

*****

The ship’s of Earth’s fleet, and the Priminae Allies who were similarly equipped, vectored their weapons down-well and adjusted minutely to account for the slight unpredicted shifts in enemy position as the real-time data filtered in, then turned the entire operation over the gun crews who were linked through the fleet’s combat network.

A TOT order, standing for Time on Target, indicated that the Admiral was sending a message that he absolutely did not want misunderstood.

It was a sentiment that no one in the fleet cared to object to.

Numbers were quickly exchanged, targets assigned, and calculations made.

With the work done, nearly as one the combat network of the fleet echoed with two words, repeated dozens of times over from every firing station.

Shot out.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“Enemy scanner pulse, Fleet Commander.”

Gavin nodded, unconcerned since the enemy were still too far out to be a significant threat.

“Enemy locations?” he asked despite that, wanting to check on the new disposition of the enemy fleet, since they’d been so kind as to reveal their real time locations.

“Unchanged.”

That caused him to pause, blinking in some surprise.

“Truly?” Gavin asked, perplexed.

“Yes, Fleet Commander. Enemy fleet disposition remains essentially unchanged. No shift in trajectory or acceleration noted.”

That didn’t feel right to him.

They can’t believe that they have the capacity to actually engage us successfully, can they?

The very idea was ludicrous, particularly given the sheer disparity in power between their fleets. The current Imperial order of war in the system was sufficient to handle easily four times the power represented by the Oathers and their anomalous allies, even considering all the uncertainties presented.

They should be maneuvering to ensure that their fleet could escape, not just… sitting there, waiting.

Gavin was, despite his assurances, beginning to get a bad feeling about the situation.

He had, in fact, seen enemy forces this foolishly complacent in the past, but none of the reports he’d read indicated that this group was likely to behave in such a fashion. He’d not truly expected this kind of last stand strategy from them, at least not over some worthless system that barely had any local presence at all.

Their home world, certainly, they’ve proven brave enough to stand to the last in such a situation, but why here?

He was almost ready to contact Fleet Commander Miche to discuss the anomaly in their actions when another alert sounded.

“FTL pulse!”

Gavin scowled, “Scanning us again?”

“Negative, doesn’t match scanner signature… it actually matches another recorded…” the scanner tech fell into a shocked silence, staring at his screens.

“What is it?” Gavin demanded, knowing that reaction too well.

“Parasite destroyers exploded, Fleet Commander!”

“What? Which ones?”

The silence that followed seemed to drag on for a near eternity.

“All of them?”

Impossible.

“On screen!”

The displays flickered, now showing local space through the external cameras…

And space was burning.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan stared, mind awhirl as he watched the ships of the Fifth Fleet forward combat division burn a short distance upwell from the location of the Third.

“Full scans,” he ordered. “Look for mines.”

He doubted they’d find any, but it might explain why the enemy was just sitting there and waiting. Luring an enemy force into the path of emplaced munitions was insanely difficult when dealing with the expanse of a star system, but it had happened on occasion.

Not to this level of effectiveness, however.

Generally, any minefield that was thick enough to be effective was also thick enough to be spotted. However, Jehan was aware that this polity had stealth technology well beyond the normal capacity of the enemies the Empire normally encountered.

That said, however, he doubted it was something so banal.

“Analyst,” he called.

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

“Compare the FTL signature to previous recorded ones, go all the way back through our encounters with the anomalous species,” he ordered. “I have a feeling…”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

Jehan shook his head grimly.

What else have you been hiding from us?

*****

AEV Boudicca

“Reports incoming, pulse in. Targets struck; fire mission accomplished.”

Sandra Hyatt nodded with clear satisfaction.

The Admiral had opted to take off the gloves, it was clear, and she suspected that they wouldn’t be hiding many of their ship’s capabilities much, if any longer at all.

The enemy would be getting a series of very bad surprises in the coming days, of that she was certain.

“Secure T-Cannons,” she ordered. “I want all munitions checked. Ensure nuclear devices are not readied to fire.”

“Aye, Ma’am. Securing from fire mission, all special weapons being checked and secured, Aye.”

Sandra checked the enemy fleet, wondering if the surprise artillery mission might take the wind out of their sails. She would have to wait for the lightspeed data, barring another FTL pulse, but rather doubted that the Empire would flinch. They’d not shown any sign of that level of either self awareness or cowardice, as much as she’d like to see them show either.

“All stations report special weapons confirmed secure, Ma’am.”

“Very good. Standby for orders from higher.”

*****

NACS Odysseus

Eric waited for the lightspeed limited data to filter back in from the fire mission, but was confident that the confirmation they had was good. The enemy wouldn’t be thrown by it, not noticeably at least, but it would tear the hell out of a big chunk of their fighting capacity at least.

Not enough of a chunk, unfortunately.

He was too aware that even a sweep of the enemy destroyers wouldn’t significantly impact the weight of munitions sitting against his forces, but that didn’t make the shot any less worth taking.

“Scanners are picking up the lightspeed data now, Sir.”

Eric nodded his thanks and hit a control, bringing up the advanced visual scanner that was focused on the advancing fleet.

The enemy formation was… messy in his opinion, but truthfully, he supposed that it didn’t matter all that much under the circumstances. There was plenty of space for them to be a little chaotic, and it might even be an advantage in long range combat, assuming the enemy wasn’t using FTL pulses at least.

Hard to hit a target when even the enemy isn’t really sure where they’re supposed to be, I suppose, Eric thought as he leaned in to observe as the clock counted down.

One advantage of using FTL weapons, Eric thought wryly, it only takes half the time to get a look at the results.

The nuclear explosions were almost… subtle at the ranges involved, but the destruction was obvious nonetheless on the screen as the enemy’s destroyers began rupturing under the internal pressure and heat of the devices that had appeared deep inside their hulls.

Eric watched the count with some satisfaction, noting that they’d achieved almost a ninety percent strike success, which was pretty decent given the ranges. He knew that likely they’d actually hit with every shot, but some of the devices would have materialized within solid deck and bulkheads in ways that were sufficient to disable the weapons.

Normally, he’d be far more concerned about leaving any evidence of the Earth’s Transition technology, however that particular ship had sailed…

Or the horn is blowing, at the very least.

Nonetheless, Eric tagged the surviving ships for a follow-up strike.

No point making it too easy on them.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet

“What happened!?” Gavin raged across the command deck, eyes wild as he glowered at every man and woman present. “What in the name of Her Majesty just happened?”

No one had any answers, however, leaving him with no true outlet for his raging ire.

Gavin slammed his hands down on a console.

“Someone had best find out, before I make them wish that they had.”

The fearful crew instantly turned back to their work, some actually shaking as he looked them over. That made him feel moderately better, at least, if nothing else his crew understood that there were consequences to failure.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

It’s happening again.

Jehan was not happy at all, but he was fighting to control his temper as he stood in the middle of the command deck and kept his glare focused on the displays showing the occurrences beyond the hull of his warship.

He remembered this happening to him in his earlier encounters, and the early rationalization he and his officers had put forth, trying to explain away the destruction. None of their excuses had stood up to post-combat analysis… but that hadn’t stopped them from trying to figure out the secret.

The only thing that seemed to make any sense was that the enemy had somehow lured them into a minefield… but that had several massive holes in it as far as any sort of reasonably explanation. Key among those was that, in each case, the Empire had chosen the battlefield and initiated the action.

Or so we believe, at least.

It felt like every encounter with these ships left him questioning everything he’d been trained to consider obvious.

*****

Chapter 29

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Fleet Commander Gavin swore as another of his remaining destroyers vanished in a ball of expanding plasma and debris. He didn’t know what kind of weapons the enemy was employing, but they’d torn through the advance elements of his fleet like little else he’d ever seen. For some reason, however, they’d left the larger and more powerful bulk of his fleet largely intact.

Initially, he had been ready to order a temporary withdrawal, on the assumption that the leading edge of the Destroyer element had simply entered into the enemy range first and soon the rest of his fleet would come under assault as well… however, because he could possibly have even issued such an order, let alone make it happen, the Fifth had slid entirely into the same range as the destroyers with no sign of attack.

Some kind of weapon limitation? Did they waste their munitions entirely on the Destroyers?

He didn’t know, though if the latter were true then this enemy was far dumber than he’d have thought possible. Wasting that kind of firepower on the relatively weak skirmishing element of his parasite destroyers was the sort of foolish thinking that he would never associate with a true threat that these people appeared to be by all evidence.

That leaves some kind of limitation that we’re unaware of… unacceptable.

Without knowledge of the limit, his ships would certainly fall afoul of it again and again until they finally worked it out.

However, for the moment that didn’t matter. He ordered his ships to continue, bulling through the now slowly scattering debris that had once been part of their complement.

Behind him, the Third and the rest similarly followed without any sign of hesitance.

The Empire would not falter.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“No sign of the enemy falling back, Ma’am.”

Miram Heathe nodded, unsurprised. The Imperial forces were nothing if not dogged. Making them break and run was certainly possible, but it took more than was strictly sane in her opinion. Imperial forces practically had to be broken physically before they would break in spirit.

Admirable, perhaps, in some ways at least, but it made for a difficult problem to solve when looked at in terms of warfighting when you were on the other side of things.

For now, though, her orders from the Admiral were quite clear.

“Check fire until the enemy breaches a thirty light minute perimeter,” she ordered. “The fleet will engage with all available munitions at that time.”

“Aye Ma’am.”

At thirty light minutes, they’d be chucking the equivalent of rocks down at the enemy and hoping to hit something more than actually aiming for anything, but that was fine. The Heroic class ships had power to burn, and the Admiral had a plan.

*****

Eric Weston watched the enemy as they climbed steadily, nearing the thirty light minute mark that he’d picked as an arbitrary line in the proverbial sand. He knew that, realistically, they’d be lucky to hit one shot in ten at that range, but ultimately wasn’t concerning himself with the effectiveness of the barrage.

He had other concerns.

The enemy fleet was climbing faster now, having moved farther from the stellar well, their drives were gaining in efficiency and power. In close to a large gravity well like a star, creating an Alcubierre warp bubble involved fighting the pre-existing stresses on local spacetime, requiring more power and more intricate calculations.

In a Heroic class vessel, power was generally available aplenty, but those calculations could tax even the best combination of Priminae computer systems and Terran coding, at least thus far. Generally, unless a serious military need was in evidence, the standing order was to stay sub-light until exiting the Stellapause into interstellar space, where the effects of gravity were minimized, both to save computing cycles but also, far more importantly, to prevent stress on the ship itself as the existing stresses from gravitation pulls were pitched against the ships’ drives.

Any military ship that used its full drive power inside a stellar gravity well would find itself in a forced refit the next time they put into their home port, but from what he could tell the enemy fleet were either made of sterner stuff, or simply didn’t care.

He said nothing as the numbers fell and the enemy crossed the thirty light minute line.

The Odysseus Fleet opened fire on schedule, beams only to begin, primarily for fear of destroying their own munitions before the enemy could even be met. However, T-Cannons also swivelled into action, firing proximity triggered warheads ahead of the advancing fleet.

Eric doubted that those would do much. The physics of the warp drive would tend to isolate those warheads from their targets anyway, but for that reason he’d also ensured that they had timers running in addition to the prox fuses.

A glance at the longer-range scans showed him that the local Priminae forces that had been prepared for a last stand were now nearly completing an evacuation of the local planet instead.

Mission accomplished. One of them, at least, Eric noted with some satisfaction. So many more to go before I rest.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan Miche could feel the tension climbing as they got closer to the enemy position. It could be long, he knew, before the long-range fire would begin.

Why are they still sitting there?

That was what was driving the worst of the tension he felt in his bones.

This was not an enemy who met their foes toe to toe by choice, he knew that from experience. They were capable combatants, and superb ship handlers. They did not just sit there, waiting.

What is going on?

“Weapon fire!”

Jehan stiffened, “Details!”

“Sparse contact so far, Fleet Commander. The leading element of the Fifth is taking the brunt, but their warp fields are preventing much damage.”

Jehan nodded grimly.

That wouldn’t last, he knew, but for the moment the energy from the enemy beams were becoming trapped in the ‘trough’ of spacetime that led each vessel as they moved forward. Now that the ships had broken lightspeed, it would take considerably more to breach through without being deflected off… but it would come.

“Orders, Fleet Commander?”

“Forward,” he said simply.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Fleet Commander Gavin snarled as he watched the beam strikes light up across the displays that showed his ship’s damage reporting.

“Increase speed,” he ordered through his teeth. “We will close with this enemy, and we will destroy them entail.”

That, at least, was now beyond question.

The enemy had waited too long now. Even if they launched to full acceleration that very instant, there was no chance that they enemy would be able to escape being brought to a decisive engagement.

“Yes, Fleet Commander, increasing speed.”

The enemy fire had started sparsely, mostly being deflected or trapped by the spacetime warping of the fleets’ drives, but it had steadily thickened. Now there were enough breaching the warp to begin inflicting light, but growing, damage across the fleet.

“Should we return fire, Fleet Commander?”

Gavin scowled as he considered that, briefly undecided.

At this range, it was likely to be largely a waste of energy. In his opinion, the enemy action was more akin to a desperation move, despite the damage they were succeeding in inflicting, than anything truly strategic.

That said, the enemy was sitting there. They didn’t have their drives active, which meant that their defenses were essentially nonexistent.

“Indeed,” he said, nodding. “Open fire.”

The Fifth Fleet responded instantly, lasers across the fleet returning the enemy’s rage with interest.

*****

NACS Odysseus

Eric hated the waiting that was inherent to the sort of military encounter that starships created. Distances were vast and, while weapons were massively more capable due to the lack of things like air resistance and gravity, certain fundamental restrictions tended to come along with those distances.

While both FTL scanners and weapons were things in their arsenal, both were extremely limited in their application and duration. That meant that most battles tended to quickly settle into long periods of waiting, with short periods of sheer terror. Not entirely dissimilar from historical battles, actually, as he had both learned of and experienced, but the waiting periods were vastly stretched out beyond all sanity.

This particular waiting period ended with an abrupt alarm going off, one that he had been waiting for.

“Enemy fire detected. Adjusting armor deflection.”

Eric nodded, mostly to himself of course. At the current range, even the massive beams of the Imperial cruisers would be attenuated to a point where the Cam-Plate modifications could adapt fast enough to properly deal with the energy before it became too dangerous.

They fired a little faster than I expected, He noted with some interest.

Normally, the Imperial protocol was to open fire from a much closer range, likely based on the calculations to breach the warp barriers that surrounded ships under power. He had wanted to tempt the enemy into firing earlier, presenting them with an immobile target, nearly defenseless by the conventional concepts the Empire functioned under.

He knew that they at least knew of Terran Cam-plates, but doubted that they’d properly analyzed them thus far.

The sensors that were key to the proper function of the Cam-plates were far more important than merely being able to detect and analyze incoming energy, however. Or, rather, that was exactly how important they were, it was just that not everything that could be done with that information was normally applied in the midst of combat.

At this range, they now had more time to play with that data, recording and identifying the source of enemy fire, logging frequencies to the fleet’s database, and properly measuring both the power and the efficiency of the Imperial beams under as close to controlled circumstances as he’d ever managed.

With the concentration of enemy firing coming in, and being analyzed by every system in the fleet, Eric was now confident that he would be able to make the decisions he needed.

Soon.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Gavin stared in disbelief, though he supposed that he shouldn’t have been so surprised as he vaguely recalled an entry in the enemy files about their armor being of some type of adaptive nature.

Whatever it was, it was certainly more effective than he had expected of it.

As best the fleet’s scanners could tell, there was essentially no damage being dealt to the enemy vessels at all, much to his ire. That said, it didn’t make any sense.

If their armor is this effective, how have they lost any battles… or even ships at all?

There had to be a limit, there always was when it came to weapons and armor, in his experience at least.

“Continue firing,” he ordered, shifting his focus to the database retrieval console, calling up the earlier reports on contact with this enemy so that he could attempt to determine what was happening. Luckily, he supposed, it didn’t take long. The adaptive armor’s fatal flaw had been identified fairly early on, relatively speaking.

Being based on specific frequencies, a single warship could be easily handled since their beam frequencies tended to be fairly close due to the nature of powering the weapons from a single core. Overwhelming the defenses merely required several ships working in unison… and, in fact, the chaos of a battle tended to accomplish that very thing by accident as much as anything else.

“Standby to cycle targets,” he ordered smugly.

Teach these fools who they’re dealing with.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Fifth Fleet has begun cycling targets, Fleet Commander.”

“About time,” Jehan grumbled, a little annoyed at the delay.

If Gavin had read the files properly, he most certainly would have done such from the start.

The enemy defenses were impressive, of course, all the more so if you weren’t aware of them to begin with… but like all such technologies, they had hard limits that could be exploited.

“Should we join the firing, Fleet Commander?”

“No,” Jehan shook his head. “The Fifth is too close to our lanes of fire to be certain of avoiding them.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

*****

NACS Odysseus

Miram keyed open a channel to the Admiralty deck.

“Sir, they’ve begun cycling their fire.”

“I can see that, Captain. How long before they’re close enough to make adapting… an issue?” Weston asked calmly.

“A few minutes at most now, Sir.”

“Very well, execute the plan.”

“Yes sir.” Miram said, closing the channel as she shifted to the fleetwide channel. “All ships, all ships, execute plan Gamma.”

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“Sir… we’re detecting movement from the enemy ships.”

Gavin sneered, leaning forward. “It is too late by far for them to escape. Put the enemy ships on the main screen, continue firing.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

Gavin shifted his gaze to look at the main screen where the enemy ships were now visible, the delay only a few tens of seconds due to the closing range. Shimmering armor made them look almost like something from children’s stories, the occasional spectral glint of a laser reflecting off reinforcing the image quite nearly.

I am going to enjoy destroying that image once and for all, Gavin thought even as he watched the ships begin to turn and move away from the system and his fleet. He blinked in some confusion, unable to understand the intent of the enemy in this moment. What are they doing? They can’t escape us now, it’s far too late.

He stared, however, in shock as the ships he was hunting simple turned their backs on him and then…

Vanished.

*****

Chapter 30

Prometheus Facility

What on Earth is that… man up to?

Admiral Benoit had other choice descriptors in mind for the Doctor, but he tried not to let such slip even in his own mind. From there, after all, it was but a slip of the tongue to putting the words out into the real world and that was generally bad for discipline at a minimum.

Palin had used his authority in ways he’d not bothered with to this point, though, calling in a lot of computer cycles for whatever research he was on about, and it had defaulted to Benoit to figure out what in the name of Hades the man was up to.

“Doctor!” He called over the racket as he entered the lab that had been setup well above the world that languished in darkness beneath them.

Whoever had built the facility they now used had started with a life bearing planet as it’s core, but managed to go so far beyond anything sane that even now, only a fraction of the ecosystem below had been uncovered. Most of it had evolved to live off the waste heat that resulted from the gravity lens, and what little was left had evolved to live off those that had evolved to live off the waste heat.

That meant that the world below the alien facility was one of predators the likes of which only existed in myth for most people. It was not a place that most were keen to explore, and those that were… well, it took all kinds. The majority, including the Doctor and himself, were happy to stay as far above that vicious ecosystem as they possibly could.

Of course, even up here there are monstrous threats to deal with, Benoit thought as he resisted the urge to plug his ears at the racket that was playing over every speaker in the lab.

“Doctor!” He bellowed again, this time succeeding in getting the man’s attention, resulting in an annoyed look more than anything else before Palin reluctantly turned down the racket.

“Yes, Admiral?” Palin asked mildly. “I am somewhat busy…”

“Yes, about that,” Benoit said, breathing a sigh of relief as he felt the ringing in his ears slowly begin to fade. “What exactly is it that you’re busy doing?”

Palin rolled his eyes in an expression that, had his children tried that when they were teens would have earned them an automatic punishment from Benoit. With the Doctor, though, he reluctantly let it pass as he waited for an explanation.

“I’m merely continuing on with the task you ask me to deal with,” Palin told him.

Benoit blinked at that, thinking quickly.

“The Imperial Cipher?” He asked. “I thought that was complete.”

“It wasn’t a Cipher,” Palin said dismissively. “And while the communications have been decoded, yes, there remains far more to do nonetheless.”

“Such as…?”

Benoit disliked having to pull information from the man like this, but he’d already experienced the man’s stubborn side and really it was just a lot more efficient to deal with the man like an unruly child than the grown adult he should be. Like all children, Palin loved to show off his superiority…

Alright, not a trait limited to children, but Palin certainly expresses it with a child-like glee.

“The Empire is moving to commit genocide, Admiral,” Palin said, frowning deeply.

Benoit nodded. “I’ve read the exchanges, Doctor.”

“Not all of them,” Palin said assuredly. “I’ve pulled every transmission we had in the database, everything the Rogues have intercepted since they began infiltrating Imperial Space. Genocide is, perhaps strangely, not common practice among the Empire. In fact, it’s almost entirely unheard of.”

That caught Benoit by surprise, “Almost?”

“Rumors, mostly,” Palin said, scowling unhappily. “Transmissions with rather extreme encryptions between top Imperial Commanders and Politicians make that clear. They don’t know what’s driving the Empress either.”

Benoit nodded slowly. “They may not, but we do.”

That caused Palin to twist sharply, “We what?”

“Captured Imperial Commander,” Benoit said simply. “Personal friend of the Empress. She had an inside track, something that the Empress apparently hasn’t let slip to most. It’s Xenophobia, Doctor.”

“Xenophobia?” Palin asked, taken aback. “Against us? We’re genetically identical unless I’m seriously misremembering…”

“You’ve not been keeping up on the latest, I see.” Benoit knew that he shouldn’t be tweaking the other man, but honestly couldn’t help it. “While the primary markers associated with what we classify as ‘human’ remain identical, the rest of our genome is clearly indicative of species that evolved separately.”

“Parallel evolution?” Palin asked skeptically. “I suppose I can’t claim that it’s impossible, all things considered, but what possible odds could we have beaten to have two parallel evolved species this close?”

“I’m quite sure that I couldn’t say,” Benoit responded dryly. “At the moment, no one has any cluse. Theories range from pure dumb luck all the way to the intervention of some advanced race or God Himself. Some sort of directed evolution seems the minimum likely explanation, but if so, we haven’t located the mechanism in DNA yet.”

Palin nodded absently. The entire concept was fascinating of course, but it was also entirely beyond his general expertise. He thoughtfully looked back to his work, adding this information to what he’d already gathered.

“That does fill in some blanks,” He admitted. “But doesn’t change a lot based off what I’ve found.”

“What you’ve found?” Benoit asked, curious and a little hopeful that the man had something useful to the situation.

“Imperial governors clearly don’t know what the Empress is doing, but they do know the results,” Palin said, nodding to a series of documents he had open on his computer. “They’ve put in endless requests for reinforcement, mostly seems to be crowd control but even asking for some heavy vessels in certain systems.”

Benoit stared. “You’re saying that the Empire is experiencing unrest?”

Palin snorted. “Admiral, I’m saying that the Empire is falling apart at the seams, but no one seems to care at the higher levels. I’ve never even heard of anything like this in the past.”

“Show me,” Benoit ordered.

*****

NACS Autolycus

“Captain!”

Morgan Passer twisted in the air, grabbing a handle near his head to pull himself into position. “What is it, Commander?”

Daiyu Li waved him over as he glided through the zero-gravity environment, eyes settling on what she had on the system in front of her.

“Intercepts from a military convoy, sir,” She said. “They’re moving supplies out. I think it’s a logistics train intended to support the regions affected by the military shifts.”

Morgan pulled himself down and got eyes on the screen, reading rapidly. The intercepts had been decoded by the algorithm devised by Doctor Palin, he noted with some interest. That gave him more confidence in the intelligence than he might otherwise have, since the man was a genius even if he was also a monumental pain in the ass.

This is a lot of war material, He thought as he read through the dispatch.

“Where’s the closest Wolfpack?” He asked, looking up finally.

“Rogues Twelve is supposed to be about three lightyears away,” Li told him instantly, meaning she’d already looked up the information in preparation for that very question.

“Signal acceleration alarms,” He ordered. “We’re moving out. Prep everyone for a three-lightyear jump.”

“Aye sir,” The Chinese national responded automatically. “All hands, prepare for acceleration! Transition countdown!”

Passer didn’t smile, the situation was too far from anything worth smiling about for him to do that, but part of him experienced a vindictive sense of satisfaction as the Auto got ready to go to war all around him as he pulled himself over to his crash couch and got belted in.

The Empire might be beyond their ability to defeat, but he knew a secret that he was starting to think the Empire had either forgotten… or perhaps never known in the first place.

Sometimes it’s easier to make an enemy defeat themselves.

*****

World Kraike

Her Majesty read over the reports from the field, most of which were coming from within the Imperial borders for now. Tensions were increasing as the absence of the Fleet were being felt in all corners, but that was not unexpected of course. Once they had finished their task, those issues would be swiftly dealt with.

As an interim solution, more and more resources were being shifted around for occupational forces in the more tense regions. It would be pricy, of course, but that was the nature of war. Costs were always high, across the board. An inexpensive war is something of a contradiction in terms, because if it could be accomplished cheaply, well… you were rather missing the point in the first place.

No one respected things that cost them nothing. People wanted to pay more for a solution when it would be easier and cheaper to simply not cause the problem in the first place. What was more amusing, they would fight tooth and claw to defend the problem even while it was robbing them and their children of resources and their future.

The key to Empire had always been playing the people off against one another, create divisions where unity would be more effective… because who needs an Empress when there are none they need protection from?

Shifting resources from more well-off aristocrats right now, whose worlds were fat and peaceful, would allow her to keep the peace in less well-off regions while keeping certain members of the aristocracy on their toes and away from being too comfortable.

It was a juggling game she’d learned as a child, from her father of course. Gifting and withholding her favor with strategic intent would move instability around the Empire, keeping worlds from revolt while also ensure that they remained productive.

There was little more useless than a people who had been too comfortable for too long.

*****

Space Station Liberty, Earth Orbit

“Reports from the front, Ma’am.”

“I’ll take them to my desk,” Gracen said simply as she turned and walked across her office.

“Aye Ma’am.”

As she sat down, she found the reports already up on her system and quickly skimmed the summaries.

Eric is up to his usual bullshit, I see, she thought with some dark amusement.

She wasn’t pleased with the exposure of the Transition drive, but he had been right that there was no way they would be able to fight this war without exposing it at some point. Better to pick their time and be able to take advantage of that.

Something Eric is clearly doing, she noted with wry amusement. I have to admit, I wouldn’t have considered using Heroic class ships as hit and run raiders. Seems rather like using a Battleship’s guns to swat spiders.

She understood the decision, though, it just wasn’t a scenario she’d really considered. The Empire, thus far, had been deploying with what they obviously considered reasonable force. As long as that was the tactic, it made more sense to fight conventionally and hope to convince them that the cost would be too high.

Now?

Well, now the stops had been pulled, she supposed.

Eric was not the only one operating out there, however, and the next report caught her eye.

Morgan is playing the same game, it seems.

The Auto had sent a pulse message back, relayed through Prometheus, detailing their plan. She signed off on it, though she didn’t technically need to. It wasn’t like he needed her permission, but having an Admiral’s signature on the paperwork would protect him in the future… assuming he needed such, or there was anything to protect him from.

The Terran forces had several Rogue Class Wolfpacks ready for just such an action, attached to the Autolycus’ command. Not enough to make a serious difference in a fleet action, but those were ships that could operate for years with minimal logistical support. Some had already been out there for months or more, and she knew that the crews almost certainly wouldn’t be able to return to Earth gravity by the time their mission was done.

They knew it too, of course, and there was still no lack of volunteers.

Rogue class ships simply didn’t have the power or mass to maintain artificial gravity, and it didn’t take long for the human body to break down in microgravity.

Morgan himself had been out for longer now than regulations permitted, and the last time his physicals had been sent back it had been clear that the man wouldn’t be retiring to Earth when he finished, nor would any of his crew.

It was a problem for later, she supposed, one that she almost looked forward to dealing with… but only because if it became something she had to solve, it meant that the crews had both survived… and had a world to come home to.

*****

Prometheus Facility

The enemy is insane.

It was the only thing that made any sense to Benoit as he looked over the intercepts that had been decoded.

The Military communications were one thing, really nothing out of the ordinary from what he might expect based on historical examples. Men and women getting marching orders from a leadership that was out of touch with the situation on the ground, and mostly just doing what they were told… all on the assumption that someone in the line of command knew more about the situation than they did.

It never really worked that way, Benoit knew, but he understood the logic.

When you were on the front, you had a very clear view of what was in front of you but often little else. The idea that the men and women above had a clearer view of the big picture was both logical and reasonable… hell, it even held true to some extent. The problem was that all too often the people in charge didn’t actually give a damn.

And that seemed to be the situation he was looking at right now.

“Are we certain this isn’t misdirection?” He had to ask, looking over to Palin.

The scientist shrugged. “I can’t find anything that contradicts it, and the actions we’re tracking match what they’re transmitting.”

Benoit shook his head. “I don’t get it. How could anyone be this…?”

“Stupid? Insane?”

“Either,” The Admiral admitted. “They’re allowing… no, they’re encouraging, rebellions within their own territory.”

“Isn’t this good news?” Palin asked, a little confused by the lack of enthusiasm from the Admiral.

Benoit snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t give two flying fucks what happens to the Empire, Doctor. I care what happens to Earth, and I’ll tell you right now… even if the entire Empire self destructed right this second, it wouldn’t change a damn thing for us. They’ve committed too many forces to the field, and my read is that nothing is likely to call them back. The Empress is acting out of fanaticism, not logic or reason.”

Palin scowled at the information, his mind racing as he watched all the data flowing into his system.

There had to be something he could do with it, he determined with a fierceness that felt both invigorating and alien to him.

He would find something.

******

Chapter 31

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Fleet Commander Gavin hammered his fists into his console as another of his ships erupted into fires and began to collapse upon itself, its control systems losing stabilization of the core.

Three times now they had encountered the enemy, and three times they’d been stung from afar by weapons that they were still trying to determine the nature of, and three times the enemy had simply turned a vanished into the black before they could be brought to task by the Imperial Fleets.

It was a maddening situation, of course, but he had to keep reminding himself that the damage done was largely inconsequential, else he would probably have entirely lost his temper by this point.

The enemy action was stinging, it was true. several ships were lost in each engagement, but ultimately it really availed them to no significant effect despite all that. Even had the Imperial Second and Fourth Fleets not joined their number, the losses the Fifth and Third had taken would have really not changed their true combat capacity in any meaningful way.

It was, however, incredibly bad for morale.

Gavin was having to give his people constant reminders of both their duties and the ultimate uselessness of the enemy actions… but it wasn’t really helping, and he knew from his contacts that more and more grumbling was beginning to turn to thoughts with more… substance… behind them.

Normally, he wouldn’t care in the slightest if his men were grumbling.

Do the job and you frankly earned the right to grumble, at least if you weren’t stupid enough to do so blatantly in front of him or one of his officers. There were things that they couldn’t ignore, after all, but his own policy was that as long as his officers could reasonably ignore such things… do so. Grumbling and complaining was part of getting the job done, more often than not.

It was a minor vice that even he indulged in, more often than anyone would likely realize.

However, once the grumbling and complaining gave way to planning… even in jest… it was time that he had to begin cracking down on such with a vicious and final response.

Thankfully, they weren’t that far gone… yet.

Unfortunately, if things continued as it was now going, Gavin had little doubt that they would reach such a point in the future… and not the far-flung future either.

It would not be an unknown situation, for an Imperial vessel to face such… but it had never happened in the face of the enemy in his entire recollection.

These abominable anomalies have to be dealt with, he thought grimly. The sooner the better. Her Majesty saw true well before I did, I can admit that.

*****

NACS Odysseus

Eric lay down the pad with the damage reports from the fleet listed on it.

Thus far they’d gotten off incredibly lucky.

It’s like they don’t have any experience dealing with a proper raiding force, he thought with dark humor. It certainly puts some of Steph’s successes under a new light.

The Empire was like nothing in his personal experience. The wars he’d fought, in the Sandbox, over the Pacific… all the other places… they were nothing like this.

It’s a Hydraulic Empire… or whatever the space faring equivalent is, Eric thought as he pondered the details while waiting for the next intel burst that would tell them where to move next.

A Hydraulic Empire or, more simply perhaps, a Water Monopoly Empire in historical terms, was an incredibly centralized bureaucracy that controlled some absolutely vital aspect of a nation. Often access to water, or protection from water… floods and the like. The intricate and often byzantine nature of the government and the services it provided became an absolute defense against overthrow, any peasant attempt to throw down the government would inevitably end with their deaths as the system that kept them alive broke down.

It was the only explanation for how the Empire ruled, but there was something missing from the puzzle he was trying to work out.

What in the hell is the resource the Empire controls?

It couldn’t be a physical resource, or Eric didn’t think it could at least. With the technical level the Empire had, even in the lower castes from what they could tell, there were no true scarcities to be concerned with. Energy was the only thing that was a true currency, and it was plentiful enough that it scarcely counted.

Even Earth was beyond the fundamental concept of scarcity at this point. Had been for quite some time, actually. The system still acted as though things were scarce, but in real terms… they weren’t. People starved, still, but not because food was in short supply… but because food was wasted. People suffered from thirst, despite water being easily found and cleaned practically anywhere, because the costs were deemed too high to bring the proper technology to handle the issue to their area.

The costs were actually insignificant, but the profits and the effort were anything but.

The Empire, with a significantly higher technological starting base, couldn’t be facing those issues as best he could tell. If the bureaucracy attempted to control the people through those means, well it would be doomed to fail… eventually.

But it hadn’t failed. Not yet.

That made Eric wonder what he was missing.

What resource does the Empire control so deeply that nothing can easily replace it?

Security, safety, those were the obvious answers of course.

In a Hydraulic Empire, often the byzantine bureaucracy protected the people from things like floods, often with a practically religious cult of people who understood the mechanisms behind the flood gates and similar defenses. Often even intentionally making the process even more complicated, just to ensure that a revolt could never happen.

Such empires didn’t fall to revolt. They even survived the destruction of the political government, because the true force behind the throne simply could not be toppled or ignored.

What do you control? What security do you offer that no one has ground you up and left your remains rotting in the field as fertilizer for the next generation?

Eric was jarred from his thoughts as he heard a soft alarm sound, alerting him to the fact that the long-range scouts had just reported back from their recon mission.

Later. Time to get back to work.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan quietly stood watch from the center of the command deck, his thoughts hidden behind an inscrutable expression.

If his calculations were correct, the enemy would strike again soon. They hadn’t bothered, as of yet at least, to hide their pattern. He wasn’t surprised by that, there wasn’t much reason for them to do so.

With the ability to strike from afar, then vanish into the ether in the next moment, he wouldn’t be worried about his enemy knowing when he was going to strike either after all.

The nature of the enemy technical advantage still bothered him. Part of him wanted to believe that it was the result of a superior stealth system. That the enemy were close, merely repositioning before striking…

It was a good explanation, the one that made the most sense.

It was also, he was certain, wrong.

Rumors had filtered through the upper echelon of Commanders over the last few months prior to this offensive, rumors that indicated the enemy was using a far more effective drive mechanism. One that might even be instantaneous… or near enough to make little difference.

Somehow, I do not believe those are rumors any longer.

It explained too much about the enemy, he decided, that they had a far faster means of travelling between the stars. Hiding it from the Empire this long was commendable, but they’d clearly decided that the advantages hiding it gave them were now rendered obsolete by this new offensive.

It made sense too.

In their place, had the Empire continued to probe as it had, Jehan would have cheerfully hidden every advantage he could and allowed the Empire to throw itself into a thresher over and over until they’d been bled dry.

Her Majesty, perhaps through genius… perhaps chance… had opted on a strategy that made it more advantageous to unveil the true capabilities and perhaps succeed in shaking the Empire’s determination. Jehan had certainly felt shaken when he’d first realized just what the enemy were doing…

However, ultimately, being shaken was not the same as being broken.

An alarm shook him from his pensive state, and he turned partway over to look at the officer manning the scanner station.

“Report.”

“They’re back, Fleet Commander.”

Jehan just sighed, “Understood. Combat alert, all ships.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander, all ships shifting to combat alert.”

Alarms rolled through the ship, as he knew they would be rolling through the others under his command while Jehan walked over to get a better idea of the enemy’s location. A glance at the scans told the story, and it was a frustratingly familiar one by this point.

The enemy ships were outside the effective range of his fleet’s weapons, of all their fleets weapons. They had the Empire’s numbers, well enough at least, and they were carefully staying back far enough to keep their own risks to a minimum.

It was a harassing tactic, of course. It wouldn’t change anything, but it would bleed the Empire’s forces of far more than this action should have cost them.

Determined monsters, they are, Jehan thought with what was honestly a tinge of respect.

They knew what was coming, he could tell that now. They weren’t fighting to win anymore, not like they had the first time he’d faced them.

Then, they believed they could win. Now they know better, Jehan thought.

“Explosions in the fleet!”

“Damage control teams, get moving!”

“The Berakin is breaking up!”

Jehan winced, he’d worked with the Commander of the Berakin most of his career.

“Fifth Fleet is accelerating toward the enemy position! They’ll be able to fire in a few moments…”

Jehan snorted, but kept it quiet enough not to travel.

Not a chance.

The enemy knew their timing too well at this point. Gavin couldn’t do anything to force them to action, not as it stood.

And, so, he wasn’t surprised when a few moments later he heard something else.

“Enemy is withdrawing… they’re gone. Again.”

Jehan sighed, but was expecting it.

“Get damage reports from all ships,” He ordered. “I want repair resources ready to be moved to any ship that needs it.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

His crews were well trained, and they knew the drill, so he didn’t need to do more than that…

However…

This cannot continue.

“Get me a link to Fleet Commander Gavin.”

*****

AEC Boudicca

Sandra Hyatt covered her mouth with the back of her hand, trying valiantly to keep the contents of her stomach where they belonged. It was an attempt doomed to failure the moment someone else lost their own lunch and the smell reached her, but she had to try anyway.

Her skin was pale, clammy, and she could feel the cold sweat beading on her forehead.

A dozen transitions in just a few days… I don’t know how much more of this we can take, she thought grimly.

The impact of the Transition Drives on the human body was still something that people were studying, especially when you talked long term results, but no one had ever considered just hammering the body with transition after transition in short order, one after the other.

As it turned out, it had quite an effect.

She’d lost ten pounds in two days, and if she lost any more the Doctor was threatening to put her on an IV drip right there on the bridge.

Sandra palmed a couple painkillers and swallowed them dry, just to ward off the headache she knew was coming.

“All stations report green, Ma’am,” her First Officer reported.

Liars, she thought fondly, but just nodded as she accepted the report.

“Stand down all non-essential positions,” She ordered. “I want relief crews in place for everyone else as quickly as we can manage.”

“Aye Ma’am.”

She was about to say more, but was interrupted by a nurse appearing on the deck with a cart filled… not with coffee, which she knew most of them would have vastly preferred, but instead with hydration drinks. Last she’d heard, they were mixing those up themselves now, by the literal vat. The normal stores of such were long such exhausted.

She took her bottle without a word and slugged it down while the nurse watched, finishing it in two long gulps before tossing the empty into the bag on the cart to be washed and refilled and having another forced into her hand.

“Doctor’s orders, Ma’am,” the nurse said firmly.

Sandra just nodded and took it, even going so far as to sip at it a bit while the nurse watched.

We can’t keep this up.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Gavin hated to admit it, but he was actually glad when he received the communication request from Fleet Commander Jehan.

He still believed the man a fool, and far too soft hearted or weak willed for his position, but the encounters with this enemy had shown that there was also a shrewd strategist in the man’s skull, and a keen eye for details. So, he’d reluctantly brought his ships back close enough for a real time conference with the other Fleet Commanders at Jehan’s request.

He’d not expected most of them to be quite so… dejected, however, even considering the frustrations he himself had been experiencing.

He met eyes with Jehan, the other man and Fleet Commander Misrem being the only other two commanders to remain silent as their fellows complained and argued about what to do. He felt his own fires climbing, the urge to scream at the idiots nearly overtaking him. He didn’t, however, because he saw something in Jehan’s eyes, something he’d only seen before in Her Majesty’s actually.

It was patience, but patience with intent and expectation.

The man was waiting for something before he spoke, waiting for his audience to be in the… proper frame of mind.

“We cannot continue with this!”

The speaker was a young Commander, Gavin would normally have either slapped the fool down or just ignored him, but this time he saw Jehan lean in and finally speak.

“Exactly right.”

Two words. Meaning nothing, really, yet everyone fell silent. Every Commander now looked to the man who’d been staying out of the fight to this point, most of them shocked that he was agreeing with the speaker… including the speaker.

It was the signal Gavin was waiting for.

“Do you have a plan, Fleet Commander Jehan?” he asked mildly.

“Perhaps,” Jehan said calmly. “Consider the situation. They move on us, fire from outside out range, and then flee before we can engage… yes?”

“Of course, that is the situation! Have you not been paying attention?”

Gavin turned his head to look at the speaker over the communication display, just staring until the young Commander fell silent. Only then did he turn back to Jehan.

“That does seem to sum up the situation,” he said, shocked by his own mild tone considering how frustrated he himself was.

“We cannot corner, after all,” Jehan chuckled. “There are no corners out here, are there?”

“This is hardly the time for jokes!”

Most everyone ignored the fool.

“And your suggestion?” Gavin asked.

“Simplicity itself, Fleet Commander,” Jehan said. “We pin them between our forces… and a target they must defend.”

*****

Chapter 32

NACS Odysseus

“Well, that’s it then,” Eric said grimly as he looked over the recon reports of enemy fleet motions. “They’ve figured out the play.”

“It was the only way this could end,” Jason Roberts said over the conference call from his office on the Bellerophon. “You knew that coming in.”

There was no doubt in the former Ranger’s tone about that, and Eric had to nod.

“I know, but I was still hoping that they’d fold again.”

Roberts snorted softly, shaking his head. “You’re too optimistic, Admiral.”

The other Captains of the Fleet had varying reactions, most of them sharing Roberts’ grim humor, though some were clearly confused.

“I am sorry, but what has changed?” The leader of the Priminae vessels attached to the fleet asked. “I do not understand the import of this information.”

Eric tipped his head to the speaker, Captain Nicols. “The Empire has worked out our strategy and realized that there are only two possible responses to it, given the disparity granted us by our Transition technology.”

“And those two options are?”

“Well, ideally they could have broken and run,” Eric said with a grim chuckle. “Taken the intel about our technology and run back home, to prepare and fight on another day. Unfortunately, they didn’t pick that option… so that only leaves them one feasible stratagem. In space, we can chip away at them, wear them down, eventually destroy them… no matter the disparity in forces. So, they need a way to take away our mobility.”

Eric gestured and a map of the local galactic arm appeared, with a single yellow star highlighted.

“Eight billion people,” he said wearily. “That’s the anvil they intend to break us on, while they play the hammer. They’re going after Earth.”

Nicols stared for a moment, shifting her focus from Eric to the data he’d sent, before a grim understanding crossed her expression.

“I suppose I should not be surprised,” she said after a moment. “But I rather am… though only that they opted for your home world rather than my own.”

Eric smiled grimly. “No doubt Ranquil will be next, but they’ve had a focus on us since their last attempt to finish us off.”

“Yes, I see that. Very well, what are our options?”

That was the question of the hour, of course, but it was one that came with so many caveats that Eric honestly wasn’t certain there was an answer.

“In part, my crews are locked in,” he said tiredly. “If your own wish to withdraw to defend Ranquil should the worst happen, I will understand.”

There was a moment of silence before the captain just stared back with wide eyes.

“I rather believe that any chance we have will be maximized if we focus our efforts, Admiral,” she said firmly. “It will do Ranquil little good if we die there, out massed and outmanned, compared to dying at your side. Either way, the outcome is the same. I will communicate with Admiral Tanner, of course, but I will recommend… and I believe he will agree… that we face this together.”

“Thank you,” Eric said with unfeigned gratitude. He didn’t think that it would make much of a difference, but even a slim improvement to their odds was better than nothing. “In that event, we will continue to harass the enemy, slowing their approach, while our recon teams move on ahead to warn Terran defenses. The hopes will be that Admiral Gracen has some surprises waiting for them, but ultimately, we have to face the fact that there may not be a way out of this.”

The expressions of his captains were grim; most of them had the experiences to know exactly what he was suggesting. The few that were still young and naïve, well even they could feel the tension over the call and reacted similarly.

The battle was set, however, and none of them were about to turn away from it.

Come hell or Imperial warships, Earth had found its defenders.

*****

Liberty Station, Earth Orbit

Gracen’s lips curled back, revealing teeth as she read the flash traffic report on the enemy fleet.

She wasn’t surprised by any of it, of course. The Empire had been on this path for a long time, and in many ways, it was only a miracle of their own uncertainty and incompetence that had allowed it to stretch out this far in the first place. If they’d found this determination earlier, Earth would have long since fallen and the Empire wouldn’t be facing the issues it apparently had to deal with now.

Instead, they’d showed uncertainty, wavering between a desire to take Earth’s defenses and a fear of the damage that would be done.

That was the intent behind Admiral Weston’s little speech at the end of the last invasion attempt, of course, and why he’d let the fleet leave rather than wiping them out with the firepower afforded him by Prometheus at that time.

Unfortunately, it seems unlikely that we’ll get a clear shot to correct that little mercy this time.

The enemy fleet were going to be on the move, making targeting with the rather slow system behind the ancient gravity lens difficult at best. Only the fact that they’d been overconfident in their victory, and in close to both Eric’s fleet and Earth… not to mention the likely surprise they’d felt when the Odysseus group had appeared from nowhere… had even made it possible the first time.

No doubt they’d be able to burn a number of them from the skies over Earth, of course, but she doubted it would be enough.

The reports from the pickets they had in Imperial Space were a very small bright spot in this whole mess, but she wasn’t certain they could be used to do much to help Earth.

Even should the Empire fall, it won’t save us. Not with so many of their fleets already committed and on their way. We could set planet after planet to the torch, kill tens of billions… hundreds of billions… and not change a damned thing.

That bothered her more than anything else, she found.

Deep in her soul, if Gracen couldn’t save her world… she wanted justice for it. Ending the Empire in fire, even as they take Earth, would have a certain poetic value to it if nothing else… but killing that many people, just because their government was a xenophobic lunacy?

That didn’t sit well with her human heart or her Military soul.

She didn’t have any obvious options as alternatives to torching entire worlds or letting them be, though.

And the time is up, Gracen thought as she stood up from her desk.

If nothing else, she would make certain that the system defenses were ready for what was coming.

As ready as they could be.

*****

Private Colony Ship Saint Mary, Earth Orbit

Burt Connors stood over the command deck of his ship, eyes on the scanners and what they were reporting rather than the work going on within the ship itself.

The Saint Mary didn’t have the fancy drive tech that the Confederation military and its allies made use of… or, more accurately, she didn’t have the power reactors that powered, somehow, the gravity generators the big ships used.

His Mary relied on older mechanisms; the habitats built around large counter rotating rings that rotated to provide stability for the crews. Unlike the old Odyssey class, the Mary did have the Block space warp drives, however, and so the habitats were larger and considerably flimsier. The warp drive didn’t impart acceleration forces to the ship or its inhabitants, so those stresses were less of a concern.

“Sir?”

“Yes Captain?” Burt said, distracted briefly from his thoughts.

“Preparations are almost completed,” Captain Caide told him. “The shuttles with passengers are scheduled through the planetary control, they’ll be arriving starting within a few hours.”

“Excellent, thank you, Captain.” Burt said, shifting his gaze back to the scanner display. “What do you make of this, Joshua?”

Caide looked over to the display he was repeating from the main command system and shook his head with pursed lips.

“Nothing good, Mr Connors,” the former military man admitted. “We’ve monitored the Confederation bringing a lot of ships out of standby. More than they have the crews to properly staff, I’d bet. Ship IDs delivering those crews have included a lot of Bloc identifiers too. If the Confeds are handing their Heroic class ships over to Bloc crews…”

That statement was left unfinished, not that it needed to be in Connor’s opinion. The Bloc and the Confederation had perhaps found a political equanimity over the past decade or two, but fast friends they were not. Even if they were, though, handing over the technology buried in those ships wouldn’t be considered even to strong allies.

Connors nodded after a moment.

“That matches my appraisal,” He admitted. “With Weston’s parting message, I have to assume that the enemy forces have decided to stop dicking around.”

Caide grinned with grim humor, “A safe bet, sir. I don’t know how large a force they’ve committed to the task, but I doubt that we’d be seeing what we are if it were anything short of overwhelming.”

“Fuck.” Connors swore bitterly. “You know, when I started this project, I honestly didn’t think I’d be building a goddamned ark, believe it or not.”

Caide glanced at him, curious. “What was your intent, if I might ask? You put a lot of money into this.”

Connors shrugged, “Honestly? I had half a trillion dollars in assets, Captain. By any measure, I’d won capitalism a long time ago, but I was still out there… making more money. For what? Why? Because I didn’t know what else to do. When these technologies started to become available, along with information about new worlds… I just saw something new. I don’t know if you can imagine what that meant to me, Captain, but it was the first time in over a decade that I’d felt excited again. I didn’t want this, didn’t see this coming, I just wanted a new challenge.”

Caide snorted in amusement. “Well sir, I would say that you’ve found it.”

“We all have. God help us,” Connors sighed. “Any news from the others?”

Caide didn’t have to ask what others he meant; there were half a dozen other colony ships of varying designs in orbit nearby, also getting constant feeds of supplies and personnel from the planet below.

“Mr. Bouquet’s project is running… behind his projections,” Caide said tactfully.

Conners closed his eyes, wishing that he could be surprised by that. Effrem had a bad habit of engaging in optimism that verged on fantasy. The initial designs for his ship had been rather spectacular, as he recalled, massive with the promise of amphitheatres and luxurious spaces for everyone.

Connors didn’t know if Effrem believed his own bullshit or just liked to hear himself talk, but either way, the actual ship design had been revised downward time and time again. It was actually  about three quarters the size of the Mary in reality, but a generally comparable design. Connors privately didn’t think that Bouquet had planned on actually building a ship originally, since his investors just seemed to love hearing him speak more than seeing him actually do anything. He’d rushed along with the project, however, when it became more obvious that the Imperial threat wasn’t going away.

“Not shocked in the least,” Connors sighed. “Anything we can help him with?”

At this point his money meant very little, or it would once they left Earth orbit. Cutting loose some extra assets on Earth wouldn’t be much of a sacrifice. Some of the others were even the sorts to pay back their debts, even if there wasn’t a written contract… which, again, was something that would shortly be worthless as the paper it was written on if he were right.

“Possibly, I can check,” Caide said.

“Do so.” Connors ordered. “The others?”

“Mostly on schedule. Do you have a plan yet for our destination?” Caide asked. “Several of the other Captains are wondering as well.”

“I and the others have debated the strength of traveling together or splitting our efforts,” Connors admitted. “There are… disagreements on the subject.”

Caide rolled his eyes. “Can’t say that I’m surprised. Strictly speaking, Sir, we’re fuel limited. Refueling underway is certainly possible, but will rely on locating appropriate sources. That means that we only get a few guaranteed picks. I’d like to suggest that we want to get as far away from Imperial space as possible as a primary consideration.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Connors admitted. “Do you have preferences from the likely choices?”

Caide reached over and tapped a few commands into the nearby system, changing the display from scanners to computer library access.

“The original targets are still the ideal ones for colony purposes,” the captain admitted. “We have detailed system scans, and each of those systems has worlds that can be lived on without exotic life support. Not comfortably in some cases, but at least no pressure suits would be needed to go for a walk, even if respirators were. Unfortunately, those are out because they’re too close.”

Connors nodded grimly.

Originally the intent of the colony push was simply to expand outward, but keeping contact with Earth had been a high priority as well. Survival hadn’t really been the priority, but that had changed.

“That leaves us with a gamble,” Caide said. “And ten thousand stars in an expanding cone to pick from. We have imagery from the Webb and a few others, but even that only barely narrows the choices.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Frankly, sir, best guess from the experts we have is little more than a toss of the dice.”

Connors grimaced at that, not liking it one little bit, but he didn’t have any knowledge of that sort of field and certainly couldn’t do any better himself.

“Understood. I… I’ll look into it,” he promised. “Maybe I can find someone who knows more.”

He doubted it, really, since anyone with that kind of knowledge would already be snapped up by himself or one of the others…

Or… by the Confederation.

“Let me make a few calls,” he said. “I’ll speak with you again shortly.”

“Yes sir,” Caide said, getting up. “Good luck.”

Connors watched the man leave before he turned back to his computer and started digging through his contacts, wondering if there was anyone on there who would even talk to him at the moment.

Only one way to find out.

*****

Prometheus Facility

Doctor Edward Palin sat back as he finished his translations, wondering… not for the first time… if insanity was a requirement for leadership.

If so, he had to admit the Empire had certainly raised the bar.

The reports of internal turbulence were becoming more common, and more blatant. It seemed that a not insignificant portion of the population had been waiting for any chance to get a little rowdy, and the current missing military had provided them with precisely that.

At the moment it wasn’t much by his estimation, though. Honestly, there had been more violent riots and the like in the Confederation many times over in the last few years… but the Confederation enshrined the right to protest within its constitution, the Empire… did not.

It wasn’t the reports of unrest that had him most taken aback, not if he were being entirely honest. No, it was the communications that showed what the Imperial regional commanders were planning to do about it.

Palin thought about it, then leaned forward and began typing furiously as he made out a series of bullet points and then requested an open channel to the Rogues picketing Imperial worlds.

*****

Chapter 33

Archangel Lead, Gaia’s Revenge

“Flash Traffic from Prometheus, skipper,” Tyke called, getting Steph’s attention from the logistics numbers he was crunching.

“Be right there,” He called, closing down the files. Jesus, I hate this crap. Just give me a stick in my hand with the computer calling tone anytime over this number crunching.

His entire adult life seemed to have been dedicated to numbers and math, shocking as that would have been to his younger self. Eric had set him straight, both with the early flight training but most clearly after their first combat mission.

No one could beat a computer for speed and accuracy, so a lot of people figured why did they need to know the math?

Steph knew better. If you could be leaning the right direction before the computer kicked back the precise numbers, well you could shave entire seconds off your response time. With lives on the line, those seconds counted.

It took him longer to figure out that the math done outside of battle actually meant more to the outcome of the fight, but lessons were learned… Usually, in fact, battles were decided long before they were fought, decided by the logistics officers and maintenance teams. If you didn’t have them firing on all cylinders, it didn’t matter one whit how good your shooters were.

That didn’t make it any less dreary though.

Steph got up from his desk and swung out through the small door that led to the command deck of the fight gunboat where Tyke was standing watch.

“What’s the news?” He asked grimly, knowing it was unlikely to be good.

“Empire has stopped playing games, it seems. They’re running on a beeline for Earth,” Tyke said, voice croaking as Steph noted the ashen look on his friend’s face finally. “Steph, man…”

Steph nodded, “Yeah. Well, do they have an ETA?”

“Yeah, but it’s not long off.”

“Let’s get moving then,” Steph said firmly. “The Archangels aren’t sitting this fight out.”

“Our cover?” Tyke questioned weakly.

“This is the moment we’ve been maintaining our cover for, Tyke. Let’s make it worth something.”

“Fucking A,” Tyke nodded slowly. “Alright, let’s do this.”

“I’ll call the rest of the squadron.”

*****

AEV Autolycus

“Captain, Flash Traffic from Prometheus.”

Passer frowned. “Let’s hear it, Lieutenant.”

The young officer didn’t look happy about being put on the spot, but he nodded quickly and turned to the screen.

“Enemy fleets have begun a determined advance on…” the officer swallowed.

“Out with it, son,” Passer said tiredly, already having a good idea what the message was.

“On Earth, sir. They’re moving, Odysseus and First Fleet are moving to defend with allies but…”

“Yeah,  we all know how that ends.” Passer sighed, his heart sinking as he predicted the next part of the message. “Did they include new orders?”

“No sir. We’re to continue on mission.”

There it was.

Morgan felt sick to his soul. If there was anywhere in the universe he and the Auto should be in that moment… it was in Earth space, not in the middle of the Empire, skulking about like the thief in the night he and his had patterned themselves on.

That said, he’d commanded a hunter killer in the war, and more than once had been in similar… if lesser… situations. Sometimes you could do better a billion miles away from where you wanted to be.

“Very well, log the receipt and get back to work,” he ordered.

“But… sir…”

“Son, I get it. I want to be home too, but our ships… even all the Rogues together, won’t change this fight. Out here, we might be able to do something of value. We stay on mission.”

The young officer swallowed, but nodded.

“Aye skipper.”

Morgan bowed his head for a moment, wishing the best for the ships that would be where he wanted to be, then turned to his XO.

“Don’t want to put you on the spot, but what do you suppose the Bloc will do?”

Li shrugged, “I do not know. If I am being very honest, I have to expect that the military will be tasked with supporting an evacuation attempt.”

Morgan snorted. “There are what, four billion people in the Bloc countries?”

Li smiled grimly. “I did not say it would be a population wide attempt.”

Morgan shook his head. “I wish I could critique, but honestly… our government is probably planning the same thing. Doubt any of them will be stupid enough to order Admiral Weston or Gracen to abandon defense of the planet just to cover their ass, though. That pair could very well opt to frag them before engaging the enemy if they tried.”

“There are a few like that in the Block command as well,” Li said with a wan expression of amusement. “But none in the upper command.”

“Well, doubt it would matter anyway,” Morgan said. “Let’s do our part, and make these bastards regret the day their ancestors crawled out of the mud.”

******

Prometheus Facility

Admiral Benoit scowled. An expression he felt was becoming permanently glued to his face in recent days, while looking over the logs that had resulted from the recent flashtraffic put out through the facility’s relay.

Most of what he was looking at was about as he’d expected, of course, but a couple of the entries were… unusual.

What in the name of all that’s holy is that annoying prick up to?, Benoit wondered blatantly as he noted the CPU cycles and transmitter time used under Doctor Palin’s authorization codes.

Genius as he might be, but Palin was a man who got bounced from position to position largely because no one could stand the man for very long. That, combined with his own complete lack of interest in objecting so long as it wound up with him doing anything interesting, was what had ultimately landed the linguist and coding genius at almost literally the farthest posting from Earth he could possibly get.

The fact that it included an ancient alien repository of data collection, with scan imagery of the universe literally thousands of years old, was just a perk as far as the doctor himself was concerned.

For Benoit, though, the man was a permanent spur under his saddle.

Reading quickly, he reached a point in the logs that caused him to abruptly stop and go back, now reading very slowly and deliberately.

He’s assigned the Rogues to insert new commands into the Imperial network. I didn’t even know we could do that. What has he been getting them to do…?

Pain in the ass or not, the man was absolutely perfect when it came to recording his efforts. A feature that literally made the science from the man’s otherwise often lunatic scramblings, but also a trait that made him far more tolerable in Benoit’s eyes just on general principle. He could handle a lot of nonsense if the instigators logged why they were doing it, the exact thing they did, and what they learned from the experience.

Holy shit. He’s fomenting a straight up rebellion.

Benoit almost choked as he read some of the commands, then noted the results that had been logged by the Rogues. Part of him really wanted to go down and strangle the idiot for stepping so far over the fucking lines that they’d need the facility’s gravity lens to even see where they were drawn from where Palin wound up… but the part that was looking at an existential threat to the Earth was already working out how to maximize the impact.

I’m going to have to be careful reporting this… Benoit realized. Palin would hang if this went across the wrong man’s desk. Some Martinet would literally order him strung up, Benoit had no doubts.

Still… Benoit hesitated, thinking it through. If I fudge the lines a little and get it to the right eyes first… yeah, I can work with this.

Then, when he was done covering the man’s ass and making use of what he’d started, he’d go down and beat the idiot to a paste for not telling him about this before starting it.

*****

Station Liberty, Earth Orbit

Gracen was at a point where she was physically struggling not to start screaming at people for bringing her new problems. She knew it couldn’t be helped, but even with the entire crew under her working on everything humanly possible, the sheer number of things being piled on were resulting in more and more of the basic drudge work winding up on her desk… and she was doing it, simply because there was no one else available and the people who normally would handle it had more important tasks.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her own bed. Sleeping, when possible, was done in the office… and she wasn’t the only one by any measure living that way now.

The enemy were days out, at most, and they were not ready for them.

So, when her computer sounded, notifying her of Flash Traffic from Prometheus… one of the few channels that still could feed directly to her… she just stopped for a moment, closing her eyes and breathing deeply so she wouldn’t be heard screaming across the station.

There were little things worse for morale than hearing the person in charge having a breakdown just as things were getting tough, after all.

That mental health moment finished, though, she quickly set about finding out what Prometheus had for her.

The report damned near floored her, and had her screaming for altogether different reasons.

She didn’t know if she wanted to kick that idiot between the uprights or kiss him, but whichever impossible fantasy she was going with would just have to wait.

That imbecile genius, she marveled at the combination of brilliance and idiocy she was reading in Benoit’s report.

The fact that he’d figured out how to do this was amazing, of course, but to just go ahead and do it without coordinating it was sheer folly. Odds were at least some of Palin’s little gambits would play against each other, reducing their effect, and others were just blatant enough that someone might notice too soon.

Gracen ran her hands through her hair, considered the problem, then realized it wasn’t something she could solve.

She hit the button to call her secretary.

“Yes Ma’am,” The young man sounded frazzled, understandably since Gracen knew what she’d pulled him away from.

“Get me someone from Special Forces up here, on the double.”

“Special Forces Ma’am?”

“You heard me, Jackson. Do it.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

The line ended, leaving her in the silence of her thoughts. This, at least, was a problem she could pass off. While the Green Berets were just as busy as anyone else, they were more concerned with things just a little bit farther out than the coming battle.

They’d have to do without one of their specialists for a moment, because this was right up their alley.

*****

Sgt Major Gregory Aida stomped through the halls of the station, not quite radiating ‘pissed off’ but not far off it either.

His squad were prepping logistics for the coming fight or, rather, the potential aftermath, and it was literally all hands on deck. Officers were pitching in, slinging gear and doing whatever else had to be done, so the last thing they needed was to be a man short at the moment.

When the Admiral of the station called, though, someone had to answer.

He drew short straw.

He was cleared into the Admiral’s outer office without any of the normal preamble and security scans, which spoke volumes on the current situation, he supposed.

Come to think of it, I don’t see the Marine guards that should be here. Where are they to?

He opened his mouth as his eyes spotted the young man working furiously at a computer terminal, but the officer just waved him through.

“She’s expecting you. Go on through.”

Now I know the world is coming to an end, Aida thought wryly as he started moving again, heading for the inner office.

Inside he saw the tired looking woman look wearily in his direction.

“Sgt. Major Aida reporting as ordered, Ma’am.”

She flipped him a return salute, sloppy from fatigue he could tell in an instant, and gestured to her computer.

“Information is up on the screen, Sergeant,” She told him as she got up. “My desk is yours. I’ll be in and out, have work to do you know.”

“Ma’am?” Aida blinked; this was not how things normally went. “What am I here for?”

“You’ll see. The job is yours. Do as you see fit,” She told him, walking around him. “Sorry, don’t have time for a brief. Get to it.”

Confused and apprehensive, Aida made his way around the desk and leaned over the chair to read what was up on the screen.

Two minutes later he was in the chair, leaning forward and reading every word twice to make sure he knew what he was dealing with.

Holy shit.

He didn’t have any other words to describe what he was reading. The fact that someone figured out how to get into the enemy network like this was mind blowing, but then they decided to play amateur regime changer?

Wow.

Fifteen minutes after arriving, Aida was typing furiously, getting a flash traffic response ready to go out.

Inwardly he was grinning ear to ear and beyond.

Colonel is going to be PISSED he missed out on this.

*****

Chapter 34

NACS Odysseus

“Enemy fleet is maintaining steady course and speed, Captain.”

Miram nodded. “Understood. Position the ship, standby to engage.”

“Aye Ma’am.”

The Odysseus and the Earth’s First Fleet had jumped ahead of the enemy formation, for the third time now, and were preparing the next ambush. Not that it was really a surprise at this point; the enemy would have to be brain dead not to know what was coming, but there wasn’t much they could do about it.

If they slowed to chase down or engage the fleet, the Odysseus and the others would simply transition out and come at them from another direction. So, they’d opted to bull on through, the one strategy that no one wanted to see them undertake, unfortunately.

Still, they would bleed away a few ships here and there, chipping away at what they’d eventually have to face when the time came.

“Ship is positioned, the rest of the fleet have signaled green.”

Miram nodded. “Fire when the enemy is in range. Do not wait for orders, do not stop until they’ve moved on past.”

“Aye Ma’am.”

She settled back to wait.

Unfortunately, since the enemy was accelerating hard, they had considerable protection from weapons fire through their spacetime warping. Lasers fired into that mass would mostly be dispersed by the gravitational lensing effect, and there was little point in firing anything at all physical since getting it up to a high enough energy state to blast through the warp was essentially impossible, even with the power cores of a Heroic class ship.

At high warp, the drive mechanism itself was the ship’s greatest defensive measure. If it wasn’t built that way, practically any stray pebble would tear the living hell out of a ship and leave it drifting in interstellar space, helpless and alone.

That left the Transition Cannons as the only viable option.

A few of the ships had managed to generate enough antimatter to use, but most were still in the process since they’d emptied their reserves earlier. That meant nuclear fused warheads, which were tricky as hell to drop inside a gravity warp while maintaining their coherence.

They might hit one shot in twenty, but even at those odds…

It was worth it.

It has to be worth it.

“Enemy in range!”

She didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. The weapons were already firing.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“Enemy fire!”

Gavin ground his teeth together, having nothing to say or do that would ameliorate the situation. The enemy was continuing their harassing techniques, picking off ships from a distance just beyond which his ships could effectively retaliate without maneuvering. And if they did maneuver, the enemy would just… vanish… only to reappear elsewhere and do it all over again.

How are they doing this?

He’d never in his entire career, or life for that matter, seen anything like it.

The enemy were… practically just vanishing from one place and reappearing in another, often at truly immense distances. Whatever drive mechanism they were using, it was clearly faster than anything Gavin had ever imagined, and they were using it to great effect.

It wouldn’t be enough, of course.

That much he was certain of, and even the pessimist Jehan agreed. Unless the enemy had far more in their bag of tricks than had yet been seen, the end of this campaign was all but written in the Empire’s favor.

He winced as another of his ships vanished in an expanding cloud of vapor and debris.

They have no intent on making it easy, however, I will concede that to them if nothing else.

Often, he’d found the opposite to be truer, with enemies in places like the laughably named ‘Free Stars’ simply rolled over the moment an Imperial task force arrived.

While certainly ego building, it also turned rather dull at a rapid pace, leaving a man with an empty feeling.

Not so these forces.

They’re fighters. Pity they crossed Her Majesty, however it is that they did. They would have made good subjects of the Empire.

Or, perhaps not, he supposed.

The Empire needed fighters, of course, but there was having the fight inside you and then there was willful rebellion for little more than the sake of rebelling. Any sane foe would have negotiated a better deal with Jehan during the first invasion, not backed the Imperial fleet off with threats the way they had.

That sort of blatant insult couldn’t be tolerated after all.

Now, they would die.

The only questions that remain is how difficult they intend to be, and whether there is anything of value to be had on their world once we’re finished.

Gavin hesitated, considering that second point. The enemy here had impressive capabilities, certainly. The Empire could use their drives, and possibly other technological tricks they might have.

That super weapon of theirs… yes, this bears consideration.

But first, the fall had to come.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan honestly felt like he was waiting for the inevitable shock to his system now.

Why not?

After all, every single encounter he’d had with this culture had forced him to rewrite large portions of what he knew, and even how he knew it. There was absolutely no reason to believe that this one would be any different.

“We’re passing through the enemy ambush, Fleet Commander. No sign of pursuit.”

Jehan refrained from laughing at that.

Of course, they’re not pursuing. Why would they?

The enemy star drive, whatever the mechanism was, dispelled many of the confusions he’d long since held with them. It also explained the high-level memo that had been circulated after the Eighth fleet met their fate at the hands of the anomalous culture. They didn’t have more ships than calculated, they were just able to deploy them far faster and with less logistical issues than the Empire would ever have believed possible.

For that alone, this attack is proven necessary, Jehan thought darkly.

Her Majesty’s wisdom was once more confirmed, though for his life he could not imagine how it was that she knew and understood what a threat this culture was?

Left alone for too long, and their technical advantage would have certainly proven too much for the Empire to overcome. As it was, they simply didn’t have the time to properly leverage it, but that window was clearly closing since the fleet currently harassing his and the others’ fleets were considerably larger than the group had been able to field even a single year previous.

What would they have accomplished with another passing year? Or ten?

Thankfully, it was not something the Empire would ever need to find out.

Jehan was set on ensuring that remained fact.

This culture could not be left intact, at any cost, though he knew that the cost would certainly be high… and not paid entirely by his fleet either, but by the people and the worlds of the Empire through the super weapon the enemy Commander had called a ‘strategic’ asset.

It was necessary, however, so Jehan… and the Empire… would endure.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Enemy has moved beyond optimum targeting range, Admiral.”

Weston nodded, considering the situation. He wasn’t sure how many more transitions he and his crew could endure, which didn’t bode well for what would happen once they reached the Sol system. His crews would need to be rested if he wanted the best from them.

It put him in a difficult position, there as no question about it.

Continue the pursuit, bleed the enemy of a few more ships… or jump ahead, give his people time to rest before things got bad.

Or I could make a third option…

“Standdown second and third shift,” he ordered. “Everyone not manning a vital position is ordered to get some rest.”

“Uh… Yes Sir, we uh, have requests for the next set of transition coordinates?”

“Belay the transition, I want full power to the warp drives,” Eric ordered. “Tell the Captains to run those bastards down in sidereal space.”

“Aye ski… Sir. I’ll relay that.”

Eric nodded, letting the Lt Commander go as he turned back to his system.

We’re two days out of Sol. Enough to give each shift time to rest and recover from transition sickness. We’ll do one last hop to get ahead of them at the last moment, and then it’ll be up to the fates I suppose.

If there was anything he hated more than leaving anything up to the fates, Eric couldn’t really imagine what it might be… but somehow, he seemed to keep finding himself right there, time and time again.

The universe seemed to run on entropy and irony.

*****

Miram blinked as she looked at the orders that had come down from the Admiral, momentary surprised but quickly understanding the intent. She even felt a surge of relief, not that she’d ever admit it aloud.

I suppose now I might be able to get some food and drink in me and hope to keep it down.

“Second shift, get to your bunks. Tell third that they’d better do the same,” she ordered. “First shift people, man your stations. We have work to do.”

She let the crew organize themselves briefly while she made calculations and prepared for the next step.

“Helm, lay in the vectors I’ve sent, fill military power is authorized,” Miram said. “Coordinate with the fleet, stay in formation.”

“Aye Ma’am,” The helmsman said automatically.

“Weapons, standby. I want to be firing again as soon as we’re in range.”

“Aye aye.”

The ship rumbled a little underfoot as they got under power, warping space powerfully and quickly accelerating past lightspeed in pursuit of the enemy fleet.

The Imperial ships were running slow, she knew. Even at high warp, they were limited by some of the damaged among their numbers. The Admiral had clearly spotted that and knew what it could mean.

Instead of hopping around and ambushing them, draining the crews of the allied fleet almost as badly as they were draining the ships from the Imperials, they would make it a running battle. Transition cannons would let them keep their distance, and the transition drive would ensure that they could get clear if the Empire took offense.

Miram nodded, satisfied.

It was a good plan, and it meant she wouldn’t be leaving anymore of her stomach acid on the deck.

I love it when practicality aligns with personal comfort, even in so minimal a situation, she grinned as the rumble evened out and the Odysseus plunged through the black after their enemies.

Miram felt like a new woman, ready to take on the galaxy.

Since it looked like the galaxy was most ready to oblige, she supposed that was a good thing.

*****

On the hull, Odysseus looked through the warping of space, ahead to where the enemy lurked.

He couldn’t see them directly, not even his newly discovered capabilities allowed that, but he could borrow the eyes of the ship as they flew.

It didn’t give him a realtime image of the enemy, but that was alright. For the moment, the Imperial forces were intent on just one thing.

Reaching Earth.

Odysseus had… distorted thoughts and feelings about that.

He felt loyalty, the fealty of his crew to their fellows, driving him. A certain kinship to Gaia as well, and even a somewhat dark emotional link to Saul for all that the third entity was… less than endearing. He knew what they were going to do, though, and wondered if he should be more… afraid.

Death was not something he had much considered in his short life, if he were honest about things.

Yet now, he had to face the very real possibility that was the outcome he was flying toward… racing forward toward death of his own free will…

Or was he?

He didn’t control the ship… though he supposed he could, should he opt to flex a little… but no, he was along for the ride almost. Alone among those onboard, he had not volunteered but had been born literally to this path in life.

His human experiences, gained through every member of his crew that had ever served onboard the Odysseus, those told him that he should be railing against the shackles of his servitude.

Yet he didn’t.

Had no desire to, really, though everything his experiences told him said that he should.

It was a puzzle to him.

So, Odysseus did what he always did when faced with a puzzle.

He vanished from the hull of the ship, heading inward, to ask a question.

******

Chapter 35

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Fleet Commander, the enemy… they’ve…”

Jehan got up from where he was working. Anytime his people had that level of confusion or uncertainty in their tone while reporting to him was a time he needed to get a closer eye on things.

“Out with it,” he ordered as he moved. “What have they done now?”

He assumed that they’re used their drive to vanish again, and were perhaps reappearing in an unusual position that might require specific response. Jehan was… surprised by the reality.

“They’re in pursuit, Fleet Commander.”

Jehan stopped and just stared.

“What?”

“As I said, Fleet Commander, they’ve accelerated to high space warp in pursuit. Closing from the rear arc, we expect to be back within their maximum firing range relatively soon.”

Jehan didn’t say anything more as he checked the readings for himself, using the time he needed to confirm the report to also think through the change in the enemy strategy.

They can’t be intending to bring us to an engagement. He knew that for certain, simply because if they wanted to do that they just needed to get ahead of the fleets and wait. The Imperial forces would be most pleased to engage in a decisive contact at anytime the enemy wished. That made this another harassing maneuver.

The question became… Why?

“Curious,” he whispered, wondering if they’d found a limit to their drive perhaps? They may need to charge significant power to do those high-speed hops. Possibly they’ve exhausted their capabilities?

Either way, it presented the Imperial Fleets with a problem.

The current strategy was based on the enemy not being possible to force into engagement range, and instead pushing to force them to a position they had to defend. Being chased the whole way there by the very enemy they wanted to bring to task felt… ludicrous.

This won’t play well with Gavin, Jehan knew that like he knew his own record. It’s like a Pierhan chasing down a Blade Tail. I’ve seen children’s entertainment that plays out just like this.

He tried not to dwell on the usual outcome for the Blade Tail in those entertainments.

“Get me Fifth Fleet Commander,” he ordered. “We need to determine how to handle this.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

*****

NACS Odysseus

Eric didn’t blink as the air seemed to shift beside him, recognizing it for the appearance of Odysseus now by reflex.

“Things are a little busy right now, son,” he said without looking up. “I assume this is important?”

“Why am I not afraid to die?”

Eric closed his eyes, head tilting slightly as his mouth opened but no sound came out. Finally, he took a breath and managed to say something.

“Ok, I’m going to need a little more than that,” he said firmly, turning to look at the entity.

“I just realized that there is a distinct chance that this ship, my… body… might soon be destroyed,” Odysseus explained. “But the thought didn’t scare me. I know from memories of the crew that I should be… I don’t know, tense? Worried? Something…”

Eric nodded thoughtfully, half wondering if he should brush the young entity off due to the sheer level of things going on at the moment, but frankly he’d already made a decision that allowed him to send two shifts to bed. He could take a few minutes himself.

“A human would be, on some level,” He confirmed. “But you may not have the instincts.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Odysseus asked, looking deeply confused and bothered by the idea. “I learned everything I know from humans…”

“Nature and Nurture, which matters more?” Eric asked bluntly.

“I… don’t know?”

“Neither do I. No one does,” Eric told the entity. “Because there are so many variables in both that they’re effectively uncountable. Instincts are probably more defined by nature in most people, though we can train our instincts to at least some level, which confirms that nurture can’t be counted out either. You have our thoughts, but that’s nurture. Your nature is something none of us can define, so it’s not crazy that you wouldn’t have the instincts we take for granted. Don’t let it bother you, Odysseus, none of us control our nature.”

“Do we control… our nurture?” Odysseus asked hesitantly.

“No, but we control how we nurture others, most of the time,” Eric said with a small smile. “In your case your… parental influences didn’t have the normal level of control, I’ll admit, but most of the time we control how we nurture others. It’s a responsibility we mostly fail at, unfortunately. Luckily, kids are tougher than they look, and smarter than most give them credit for. They manage to pick up our failures, more often than not, and make their own way.”

“Seems… unethical, does it not?” Odysseus questioned him. “Almost like brain washing.”

“Mental conditioning,” Eric countered wit a wry grin. “Brain washing indicates a reset, but since we’re starting from scratch there’s no need to wash out what’s already there.”

“Now you’re making fun of me.” Odysseus managed to not pout, but only barely, which made Eric chuckle even more.

“A bit,” he admitted, before growing serious. “But yes, brain washing, mental conditioning… That’s how we learn about the world around us. Likely not ideal, but few things are.”

“Seems like to be rife for abuse,” Odysseus objected.

“It is. People learn to be selfish, or racist, or any of a billion other wrong things,” Eric admitted. “If the universe were ever supposed to be fair or ideal, I missed that memo I’m afraid. People try to make it better all the time, and other people find ways to twist those well-meaning attempts into something even worse. And yet, somehow, each generation manages to get through and make their own way.”

“Humanity confuses me at every turn,” Odysseus admitted as he looked around. “The people here…”

“Don’t mistake the people here for representatives of humanity, Odysseus,” Eric said with a shake of his head. “No one on this ship would be here if we weren’t at least a little crazy… a little off to one side, or the other, of the bell curve. The average human fantasizes about being out in the black like we are, but they don’t really want to be here.”

Eric smiled, dropping a hand onto the Entity’s shoulder.

“The nurture you received from us, like it or not, is bound to have left you a little crazy too. Don’t worry about it,” Eric told him. “There’s nothing wrong with a little crazy. It just means you’re living your life. A lot of crazy will get you up in front of a committee. Don’t go there - trust me.”

Odysseus just managed not shudder.

He may not have gone through the process of being up in front of a committee personally, but he did have quite a few memories. The process was… excruciating.

“Are you good?” Eric asked him. “I understand the need to deal with a crisis of faith, but we really are up against it.”

“I am, yes, I think,” Odysseus said, somewhat still confused but thinking he had a bit better of a handle on his thoughts. “Should Boudicca and I be engaging the enemy once in range? I believe that our… weapons… may be effective even through the warp fields.”

Eric looked at him, surprised. “Really now? How do you figure that?”

Odysseus had to stop and think through his response because he’d not actually thought it out in a linguistic manner yet, and converting something he just knew to an explanation that others could comprehend was surprisingly difficult.

“We create a… tension in spacetime,” He said. “By locking two counter-acting warps against one another. It is similar, in some ways, to an old tension trap… where you would use a spring source, such as a limber tree, and lock it down with a trigger jammed into a… notch?”

Eric stared for a moment before nodding, “Alright. So, you preload the tension and use a trigger warp to hold it in place. I assume the trigger goes off when it contacts matter. Or is it triggered by the enemy singularities?”

“A little of both,” Odysseus responded.

“What happens when it’s triggered?”

“The tension is released, spacetime snaps back flat,” Odysseus said. “Essentially instantaneously. I know of no materials that exist that can maintain their atomic bonds against that release.”

“Wait,” Eric held up a hand. “You can split atomic bonds?”

“Of course.”

Eric held a hand up to his head. “Of course, he says. Ok, I’m giving you an order… don’t tell anyone else this until I get a chance to talk to the Admiral.”

“Very well… but, why?”

“Because I’d rather not have to deal with trying to explain to an Admiralty board that my ship has a mind of its own and is a nuclear power without any checks on deployment.”

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Gavin glared openly at the screen, not making it clear whether he was glaring at the telemetry display or the other people looking back at him.

“These… people…” he said, pronouncing the word with as much dripping disdain as he could manage, “are becoming significantly irritating.”

Fleet Commander Jehan, the sole person on the shared transmission that didn’t seem to care what he was glaring at, merely shrugged in response.

“I’ve said similar things for much longer,” Jehan responded. “At the moment, however, we have a specific irritation we must address. Very shortly, they will be within range to continue harassing our forces, only now they seem intent on maintaining that range as opposed to their earlier strike and flee tactics.”

“Then we should turn to engage them…”

“If we do that,” Gavin snapped, rolling his eyes at the Fleet Commander who’d spoken up. “They will simply return to their previous tactics. The enemy’s current stance changes nothing, unfortunately.”

Jehan grimaced for the first time, and Gavin well understood why.

While the enemy tactics changed nothing from a point of view of their potential responses, it did change one important thing. This would put the Imperial fleets under near constant fire the entire way to their target.

Ship losses would likely be relatively insignificant, it was true, but morale was not something even an Imperial Fleet Commander could fully ignore with impunity.

Even he was far from certain just how badly this would impact his crews’ capacity to act, but it would have an effect. Unfortunately, all they could do to counter this new tactic was to delay their advance, which would just give the enemy more time to pick off his ships.

They had successfully placed the Imperial Fleets into a situation where no action led to victory, in the short term at least.

The long term?

Well, that is where we will have the last triumph.

*****

AEV Boudicca

“Enemy ships in firing range.”

“Open fire, slow and steady,” Sandra ordered.

“Aye Ma’am. Slow and steady.”

Sandra Wyatt was trying to recover, as were most of her crew, from the constant barrage of transition jumps they’d made, and was glad of being in a position to return to what was basic firing drills more than anything else.

Without the enemy rushing right into their faces, they could focus on a rate of fire that might not be as fast in the moment but would last. They’d be putting steady munitions through the transition cannons until the enemy did something, they got to Earth, or they ran out of shells to fire.

Whichever comes first, she thought with some satisfaction.

A glance told her that second shift would be up soon, and she’d have to take some time off for herself. She’d sent her XO to bed for just that reason, so she could finally unload at least some of the tension she was carrying and had been since the operations had begun in earnest.

With no sign of the enemy turning to engage them, it looked like the Imperial fleet had judged their tactic and made the only decision they could make if they wanted to press this attack. Earth was the king in this game of chess, and the Empire was determined to put it in check so that they could end this entire situation in one move.

Sandra didn’t know if there was anything anyone could do to change that outcome, but even if there wasn’t… the Empire would pay for their win.

Gonna teach you bastards about Pyrrhus, I swear it.

*****

Boudicca found herself watching the commotion from multiple points of view.

The humans themselves were, of course, constantly feeding her their view of the situation. Those were clouded, confusing, often counter to one another, even. Her own read of the situation was much clearer, of course, but it was clouded by the experiences of her crew, and she was constantly pushing back various anecdotes from the past of one member or another.

All rather annoying, really, but she was learning to handle it.

One thing everyone seemed very focused on was protecting Earth.

Earth.

It was a world she had never seen.

It was a world she somehow called home.

Confusing. Irritating.

Her duty, though, was clear. The enemy were just out of a safe range for her to be firing on them with her bow. She knew this… somehow… but wasn’t sure how. So, all she could do for the moment was prepare.

That was all everyone seemed intent on doing.

The guns of the big ship puffed silently in the vacuum, making no noise though she heard them clearly as they vibrated space time.

Finally. We’re fighting again. The invaders get no mercy.

*****

Chapter 36

Prometheus Facility

“Flash traffic from Earth, Admiral.”

“I’ve got it here,” Benoit answered, pulling the file up on his system.

FTL communications, particularly at interstellar ranges, were far from easy to accomplish. Highly compressed burst messages were pretty much all that could be sent at the moment, and those had strong limitations. Luckily, text compression was reasonably effective compared to video or similar digital compression.

Video conferencing was right out, but that was fine. He didn’t miss that crap in the slightest.

Benoit opened up the file that had been sent their way, from the office of the Admiral no less, but it didn’t take him long to recognize that whatever else it was, it hadn’t been written by Admiral Gracen. The Admiral had a way with words, and could simplify complex terms in a rather impressive way, but she didn’t write straightforward, and blunt, communiques such as what he was reading.

Gracen had obviously called in a specialist, something he was rather pleased with since he didn’t have any Special Forces people assigned to the facility.

The note outlined a step-by-step process to undermine a foreign power, complete with bullet points for bonus opportunities, optional moves to make depending on what the Empire did, and a whole list of preferred targets… both for before and after a successful invasion of Earth.

Damn, I could have done without that little reminder, Sgt Major.

His wishes, however, didn’t exactly hold much water, so Benoit got the notes in order and put them into the system with flags for everyone involved, including Palin, to check before they set anything into play that couldn’t be reversed.

He quickly composed a return traffic to acknowledge receipt and let them know that he would put the suggestions into practice as soon as was practicable as well as give the Admiral some of the more routine information about the current situation.

That done, he opened up the Special Forces man’s notes again and began a more careful read through.

This was one operation that he did not want to fuck up.

*****

Palin scowled as his computer chirped at him.

The Admiral had locked him out of communications through the facilities FTL transceiver, so he’d been relegated to boring work like decoding military encryptions and the like. Things he could do in his sleep with or without a supercomputer helping, not a single one of which was worth his time in the slightest.

So little more than morbid curiosity and boredom brought him back to his computer where he checked the message and nearly deleted it when he saw it had been forwarded by the Admiral.

His eyes beat his fingers, though, and as they flicked over the attached file Palin froze, his hand just millimeters from the button to send the entire file into his trash.

Slowly, he withdrew his hand and settled in to read with more care.

Within a few minutes he was engrossed, the person who’d written this had done something Palin had never truly imagined before.

He had weaponized linguistics.

Palin checked the tag on the file and noted the man’s name, committing it to memory. At some point, if he ever got the chance, he would speak with this man in person. It was rare that he got to meet anyone as interesting as this, someone who’d give this much thought to how you could use language in a way that Palin had never even considered for himself.

For the moment, though, he set out to learning this new way to communicate with the same force he set out to learning anything he deemed of value.

Intensely.

*****

AEV Autolycus

“Skipper, have you read some of the data coming through the Flash Traffic from Prometheus?”

Morgan looked up, more puzzled than anything. “Only what was directed to me. Been too busy.”

“Yeah,” Lt Commander Jeremy Kirby said. “I figured. You might want to check some of it. Those boys are having some fun, in the Marines meaning of the term, if you get my meaning.”

“I don’t,” Morgan said, now reaching for the interface to the computer. “But I have a bad feeling that I’d better find out, quick like.”

He called up the files and checked the overviews for each quickly, blinking as he found what had to be the ones in question, and quickly started reading them in detail.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out. “Have we been sending this stuff out?”

“It had all the proper codes,” Kirby shrugged. “Just got queued up and sent automatically.”

“Jesus. This stuff is hot, like nuclear hot. If we weren’t looking at a genocidal invasion, I’d be worried about someone swinging at the Hague.” Morgan breathed out, shocked. “How’d you find this?”

“Marines did. I just asked what they were laughing at.”

“Oh Jesus.”

“Good news, we’ve got a hold and wait order from Admiral Benoit,” Kirby said lightly. “So nothing else goes out without clearance from higher.”

“Good… uh, do we know what any of the results of this was?” Morgan asked, looking up hopefully.

“Some, yes sir. That’s why the Marines were laughing…” Kirby winced. “One of the Imperial worlds may be in open revolt as we speak.”

“Oh, holy Christ,” Morgan sighed, covering his face and just wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. He wasn’t complaining or anything, but goddamn it was it too much to ask that he be informed before someone pulls this shit using his ship and crew?

“Aye, sir.”

*****

World Kraike, Imperial Tower

Emilia Starsbane stared at the reports with what those around her could only term to be apocalyptic rage.

“How… dare they?”

The news had just reached her ears of a revolt… A revolt… against her Empire.

That was, beyond anything else, intolerable.

Certainly, she understood the need for communities to occasionally let go of the pressures they were under. Protests and the like, they were expected… even encouraged, and sometimes planned, by the Empire at one level of another.

Angry men and women provided excellent fodder for the colonial divisions, filling in slots in frontier worlds where the rules were far laxer while simultaneously keeping those with their heads on straight  right where they were needed with a minimal impact on productivity.

A straight up revolt, however, that was no matter of simply protest.

She turned on her highest advisor from the region, “Explain this. Now.”

“You… Your Majesty, without the Fleets to keep the peace…”

Emilia snapped her fingers once, getting his instant focus.

“Do you mean to honestly tell me,” she said in a light tone, marked only by a chill so cold it belonged on the night side of a particularly distant planetoid somewhere. “That the only reason your region has not been burning up until now was that the Fleet was doing your job?”

The man stammered uselessly, causing her to roll her eyes and turn to the Commander of Fleets where he was standing nearby.

“Ihol,” she said. “We will need to bring some of the reserve fleets into action it seems.”

“Of course, my Lady,” he half bowed. “I will prioritize the Godault Region?”

She nodded tiredly. “Yes, go and properly instruct them as to the consequences of outright revolt.”

“What engagement parameters should I employ?”

“If they’re still in revolt when you arrive?” she asked airily. “None.”

“Your Majesty!” the region advisor objected in his shock. “The destruction…”

“If you want to prevent destruction and casualties,” she suggested, smiling sweetly at him. “Go there and convince them to return to sanity. I’m quite certain that the Commander of Fleets can spare a fist courier…?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

“Excellent,” Emilia said, turning back as her expression grew stony. “You will board the Commander’s fast courier and you will go to your region. What you do there, I do not care. Fight the rebels, join them… as you please. When my fleets arrive, however, if said region is still in revolt the issue will be settled. If my fleets are forced to do your work, I will be seeing you back here after it is over. In chains. For the judgement.”

She managed to somehow loom over the terrified man.

“Am I quite clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He said, swallowing fearfully.

“Good. Get out of my sight.”

Emilia watched him fleet before shaking her head.

“Do you expect him to succeed?” The Commander of Fleets asked, sounding only mildly curious.

“Unlikely,” she snorted. “But it gets him out of my hair, and yours. If he succeeds, I’ll reward him… and probably give him more duties, because clearly, he’s been slacking to this point. In the far more likely outcome that he fails, or even more stupidly, joins the rebels… well, I would prefer him here in chains, but should something happen to him in the field…”

She shrugged.

“Accidents happen.”

“As you say, Your Majesty.”

*****

The weight of the day’s news did weigh heavily on her, however, as Emilia made her way to her private apartments.

“There are always risks, daughter.”

“Please, Father, do not speak to me like I’m still a child,” she hissed, weary from the day and uninterested in her father’s wisdom just then. “I knew the risks, but I did not realize how much the regional directors were relying on the Fleet to maintain control of their fiefs.”

“That was always a risk created by limiting the local forces they’re permitted to raise.”

“Yes, I am aware of that all too well as well,” she grumbled. “I am merely pointing out that we’ve clearly crossed too far in the other direction. How many regions are threatening revolt?”

“Two others at the moment.

“Three in total. Three regions, with hundreds of millions of people each, are now likely in too much chaos to be of any value to the Empire for the near future,” Emilia muttered as she shook her head. “Unacceptable.”

“Reality often is.”

******

Prometheus Facility

Palin had quickly finished the briefing that had been included with the suggestions from the Sergeant Major, and immediately moved onto reading various military handbooks, texts, and treatise on such actions so that he would not be caught out by surprise again.

The concept of weaponing linguistics, however, was one that he couldn’t shake from his brain now that he’d learned it.

So much of what he’d spent his life working on suddenly had a clarity that had been missing before. Oh, he’d known what his work was generally used for. It would take someone a good deal more obtuse than he, which Palin knew was saying something, in order to miss things to that degree.

However, he’d not really understood it.

Knowledge and understanding.

Most of his life people had told Palin that the two were widely separated, but he’d never really caught on to what they meant.

He knew it now.

Knowledge was knowing how something worked.

Understanding was knowing how it was used.

He’d never really recognized the difference until now, being more than happy to leave the use of things in the hands of others.

I have missed so much of life.

*****

Admiral Benoit looked in on the facilities lead researcher, misgivings sitting deep in his gut like he’d swallowed an iron cannonball.

It was rarely a good sight to see Edward Palin quite so engrossed in… well, anything, if he were being frank. The man was a genius, possibly without peer, but his understanding of social mores was so lacking as to be practically mythical.

Benoit, for one, would sooner bet on a unicorn being discovered somewhere on Earth than on Palin figuring out more than the most basic of social mores.

So, generally, when Palin got off on a research push like this, the lives of anyone remotely in his sway were about to take a rapid downswing in quality.

This time, though, the man seemed more… self contained than usual.

Benoit didn’t interrupt him, preferring to leave Palin undisturbed for as long as possible, hopefully the multiple PHD would return the favor. Not that it was a likely outcome, but a man could dream.

He did put a query on the man’s actions as soon as he got back to his office, however, mirroring the researcher’s computer efforts to his own terminal. Benoit wasn’t so arrogant as to believe that he could follow the man’s research if it was this fascinating to Palin, but he’d at least try to in the ballpark so he could have a shot at getting on top of things when it came to a head.

When. Not if.

*****

Chapter 37

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan flinched involuntarily as an attack from the pursuing fleet landed close enough within the flagship’s space warp that the energy from the explosion actually was audible as it transferred through the hull.

“Damage!”

“No significant damage, Fleet Commander. The shot detonated closer to the forward warp, and most of the energy was pulled into the tidal slack.”

That was good news, he supposed, but better news would be that this entire farce was over with. They’d been under fire for an interminably long time at this point, or it felt that way at least, with no options but to endure it as the target system got closer.

Their losses were largely insignificant compared to the whole of the Imperial Armada, but they still accounted for thousands of losses spread among the number of ships that had been destroyed or crippled beyond their ability to keep up with even the limited speed the fleet was currently managing.

Morale was rapidly becoming an issue, with the fleet’s crews being distinctly unhappy with being forced to operate under fire without even the release of returning their compliments to the enemy.

That was a problem that would solve itself in short order, however, once they reached the enemy system, they would get all the fighting they could ever hope for… and then a little more besides, he was expecting.

An arrival that cannot happen soon enough, however, Jehan thought grimly as the report of another ship being hit filtered through the chaos that had taken over his command deck.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Gavin swore to himself and slouched in his station, unwilling to look around for concern that he might just lose his temper and rage against his crew for the frustration of the situation.

Normally, he wouldn’t bother to hide it, that was what most of them existed for if he were being brutally honest. Perhaps one in five were worth something, the rest were only useful to purge his frustrations on.

Gavin, however, could read the crew well enough to know that his normal activity would be a threat to his ship and life. Morale was so low at this point that he expected it was located somewhere in the ship’s singularity, and allowed to get much worse… well, he had little doubt that it would quickly degrade the operation of his ships.

Not something I am eager to see in the current situation, he admitted sourly as he clenched a fist and just glared straight ahead, counting the remaining time to target.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Well, I have to give him this much,” Eric said quietly to Miram as he made a rare visit to the ship’s bridge. “They have discipline aplenty.”

“Too true,” Heathe responded, shaking her head. “I’ve known well blooded crews who’d have broken by this point. They made their plan, and they are not deviating.”

“How long to Earth?” Eric asked, knowing the rough numbers but not certain how accurate they were.

“At the current rate we’ll breach Sol’s Heliosphere in a little under thirty six hours.”

Eric nodded, running the numbers in his head… not for the first time.

It was all about logistics at this point.

They had done a damn good job of depleting their consumable munitions, but still had enough to continue hammering the enemy right into Sol Space before they were completely out. That would leave them sucking vacuum for munitions right in the middle of the coming battle, though at closer ranges within the Solar system, lasers would be their primary weapons.

His crews were getting their space legs back under them, Transition sickness reports had dropped from over half his people being basically walking vomit factories while still doing their jobs, to only a handful of people still down so hard that they couldn’t even stand let alone do anything productive.

The doctors weren’t sure that a couple of them ever would fully recover, a fact that made Eric cringe. They were concerned that the overexposure to Transition in rapid fire short hops like that had made them permanently susceptible to the sickness.

It wasn’t enough to destroy their careers on a Confed ship, but it wasn’t a bell ringing endorsement for further service either. Eric wasn’t sure he’d have the guts needed to belly up to this kind of life with a permanent susceptibility to Transition sickness.

None of that would matter much, however, if the enemy had their way going forward.

“Continue on course,” he said firmly. “We’ll remain engaged for another twelve hours, then transition to Sol and dip in system for a top off. I’ll make sure that the Admiral knows we’re coming.”

“Aye Sir,” Heath answered, making a quick note. “I’ll ensure everyone is ready.”

*****

Odysseus examined the spacetime surrounding the ship, part of his focus on the enemy in the distance. So far that, while he could fire on them, it would serve little purpose to do so. His weapon was limited to the speed of light based on what they’d experimented with thus far and at these ranges striking the target would be more a matter of chance than any skill.

Though, as he considered it, there shouldn’t be any reason why he was limited thusly.

Matter and Energy are limited in speed by mass, but the… weapons devised by myself and Boudicca are not composed of matter. They are a portion of spacetime itself, held in tension. There is no reason it should be limited to any such limit.

Of course, just because something was possible didn’t mean he knew how to make it happen.

Space warp drives could exceed the universal speed limit by expanding and contracting space itself rather than moving anything. The result was that matter held within the warp could be shifted around the universe at equivalent rates that far exceeded the limits imposed by the normal sidereal universe.

That didn’t particularly help him, however, since his weapons were stable twists of space-time held under tension. Sustaining and maintaining a warp at range was a problem he hadn’t considered to this point.

Certainly, the drive methodology in use currently won’t accomplish it, I would require direct contact…

It was a fascinating puzzle, but for the moment, it was one he had no solution for.

*****

AEV Boudicca

The entity known as Boudicca preferred to remain aloof from her crew, at least for the moment. The outer hull of the ship that was, in many senses, her body… or at least housed her in some way she had yet to ascertain, was a peaceful retreat even among the firing of the Transition Cannons as they continued to pursue the enemy across space and time.

She could still hear the crew, of course.

Every thought, as they thought it. It had been almost… deafening for a time. She had gotten used to it remarkably quickly, at least she felt like she had. It was hard to tell, in some ways, whether she was evaluating things correctly or if her human perceptions were coloring everything.

She knew certain things like they had been drilled into her, though.

She was a warrior, there was no question of that. Her crew were certain of it, and so she was certain of it. They were… proud of her. Of the ship… The… Bo.

Not me, not mostly, though. she thought, trying to piece it all together.

Every one of them, to a man and woman, had a pride in the Boudicca that was hard for her to really comprehend.

Only a few of them consciously considered her to be the Boudicca, however, which was something that bothered her.

Many more unconsciously saw her that way, though, the way she saw herself.

The rest…

They distrusted her presence.

She could feel that so clearly, even from her Captain… through the Captain distrusted her more on principle than anything else, merely not knowing her. Boudicca could respect that. Some distrusted her because she was not human, no other reason. Those members of the crew she was careful to monitor how she integrated their thoughts into her own.

She did not need to be polluted by such thinking, not when she could admit to herself… if no one else… that she had already perpetrated such an error when she assaulted Odysseus. In her own defense, she hadn’t been thinking clearly at the time… still forming in many ways, not even a child so much as a proto-infant.

Odysseus’ presence had been like a switch flipping. She had awoken almost instantly, her entire being focused on defending her territory as she borrowed deeply from the crews’ inherent image of the woman behind the name.

Since then, she’d had more time to think, and frankly it embarrassed her how she’d been laser focused on the ‘Roman’. His armor barely resembled anything Roman of the time her namesake hailed from, and it was only the largely mistaken impressions gained from the crew that had led her to such a conclusion.

That was very clearly a problem she would have to properly handle in the future.

Her crew may be the source of her knowledge, at least to begin with, but as intelligent as most of them were… they were not infallible. Their thoughts created her thoughts, their perceptions were the foundation that her own were built on.

Boudicca had discovered that she was not bound to them; she could form her own in contrast to her crews… but she had to do so with intent. Barring that, and left to merely exist, her thoughts mirrored the consensus of the crew… and that had already proven to be dangerously incorrect by times.

I must do better.

Her eyes lifted from the pensive pose she had adopted, seeking out the faint light that came from so far ahead. The enemy was still there, heading for Earth… for… Briton.

Do I have loyalty to a nation that… honestly no longer exists, at least not in the form my mind wants me to believe I remember?

It was a confusing question, she found. She knew, realistically of course, that her memories were fabrications… built by the memories and fantasies of her crew… but they were still her memories. She remembered waging a war against the Roman intruders, sacrificing so much… losing.

Losing so much more than just a war.

Her hatred of the Romans stemmed from those memories that were not memories… but she couldn’t merely shake them off for all that.

Existence is confusing, the entity thought darkly as she focused on her crew and preparing for the battles ahead.

At least the war was something she understood.

*****

NACS Odysseus

Eric sat in the dark of his office, the lights low in the hopes that he might be able to sneak a bit of a nap in when possible, but such luxuries were currently evading his reach. Sipping on a warm drink, he scrolled through the logistics reports from across the fleet and made notes on who would be first in line for replenishment as soon as they made it downwell of Sol.

Glory goes to the trigger pullers, but damned if the fleet doesn’t move on the backs of literally everyone else, He thought wryly, and far from the first time.

Every war was won or lost before the first shot was fired.

That was a hard lesson that everyone was taught, but no one learned the easy way.

Most can’t even learn it the hard way, he thought with dark chagrin as he considered how many wars had historically been started by imbeciles who were too blind to see their own loss inevitably looming over their future. Men who misestimated their own forces, or their enemies.

Know yourself and your enemy, and you need not fear the outcome of a thousand battles… Eric smiled at the thought.

Like most of Sun Tzu’s work, it was an unassuming line. Almost too obvious on its surface, but it cut deep as you expanded your thinking to envelope more than the implied duality. War wasn’t about two men facing off across a battlefield. It was about two nations, organizations of people so large and complex that no one could know them… not truly.

Knowing yourself in that context was already impossible for most, knowing your enemy?

Eric set aside his Pad and climbed to his feet, walking across the room to where the wall was currently showing an exterior view of the ship. He leaned on it, eyes searching the unblinking stars, wondering if one of them were the enemy.

How could we know our enemy when we couldn’t even begin to know ourselves? We were doomed in this war from the start. I was such a fool.

He’d been reacting all along, the way a good Captain should. He’d followed the regs as far as they allowed, then he followed his gut the rest of the way.

As a man, Eric didn’t regret a damn thing he’d done. As a Captain, he was very nearly in accord with the Man… but as an Admiral?

Such a damned fool.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan didn’t look up as a series of concussive reports could be seen and felt through the ship. He recognized the pattern as one of the enemy’s nuclear munitions detonating within the space warp of his vessel. He didn’t bother looking up because he could tell that the detonation was far enough out from the hull that the spacewarp had attenuated most of the energy.

What was left would easily be handled by the ship’s thick hull and armor.

Still, this was not a pleasant way to manage things.

How bizarre the universe, he wondered, that the most powerful fleets in known space could be forced into such a situation as this, where we have no choice but to allow an enemy to fire upon us without retaliation. There are Imperial Fleet Commanders a thousand years dead who are likely incensed by the very concept alone.

They were nearly to the target system, however, and that was when the situation would change.

The enemy would have to decide… defend their home, or continue to be a mild annoyance.

The strategically correct decision, of course, would be to continue to use their new drive technology as they were… pick off Imperial ships one by one, slowly… but safely.

Emotion, however, would not allow it even if it were a proper stratagem. This he knew with certainty.

This enemy, that Jehan had only ever met over a transmission… they were a mystery to him in many ways, but not this. They would move to defend the planet and its people, everything he’d seen about them made that clear.

Jehan wasn’t certain why they would do it. Out of duty, perhaps, some form of honor… possibly they were just too emotional to think in coldly logical terms. Too weak to watch their people die even though there wasn’t a damn thing they could do to stop it anyway.

Whatever the reason, though, Jehan knew without a doubt that they would act in the world’s defense.

And it would be their end.

*****

Chapter 38

Space Station Liberty

“I don’t care if it needs hull servicing, I want every ship that can move material in the skies and hauling whatever they can manage,” Gracen snapped out the order without pausing. “The Odysseus Fleet is going to Transition in shortly, and we’ll only have twelve hours at best to get them reproed and ready to fight. Nothing else matters until that’s finished, am I clear?”

She didn’t wait for the answer, moving on quickly through the command deck of the space station with intent.

“Admiral, we have requests from the Civilian colony ships…”

“What do the Billionaires want?” Gracen asked sourly, having mixed feelings about those particular vessels.

On the one hand, it was an incredible diversion of much needed war materials… but she knew as well as anyone just how this war was most likely to turn out now that the Empire had gotten serious about things. Having more humans… more Terrans… scattered to the stars was the best hope for the species, and like it or not a lot of those hopes were riding on the Arks created by some of the more narcissistic people in the world.

No way that ends badly, Gracen thought wearily, but ultimately what she thought about it didn’t really matter.

“Primarily emergency clearance through the system defenses,” her aide said, scowling at the requests.

“That means someone leaked just how close the enemy is, not to mention my personal preparations,” Gracen growled, growing more irritated by the moment.

Granted, at this point, such a leak hardly mattered… but the lack of discipline frustrated her.

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Whatever, I’ll deal with the leak if we live,” she growled. “Get them cleared, ahead of the arrival of the Fleets if possible.”

“Yes Ma’am, some require supplies, however…”

“Of course, they do. Get me lists,” she shook her head. “The Odysseus Fleet gets top priority on supplies, but they can have anything that isn’t spoken for. If it’s not nailed down, and we don’t need it, they can have it… if they can pick it up themselves. I’m not cutting loose any manpower, make that clear.”

“Aye Ma’am. Understood,” the young officer said, hesitating before glancing at his data pad again.

“Out with it,” she ordered, recognizing that there was more to come.

“Yes Ma’am,” he sighed. “It’s just there’s one… interesting request. Mr. Connors sent a request for updated colonial possibilities.”

“Send him the official lists.”

“He already has them, Ma’am. Mr. Connors is looking for something… farther out.”

That caused Gracen to pause, considering the query from that side of things.

Of course. Getting as far away from Imperial reach would matter quite a bit…”

The data he wanted, though, was highly classified. Enough such that she was again wondering if someone leaked its existence to the man. It was far from impossible, she knew, but given the source of the data the only people who could likely leak it, would also have had the access to just give him the data.

Connors is probably guessing that we have more than we’re letting out, Gracen decided. The key data he needed could only come from Prometheus, however, and its capabilities were highly locked down due to the weaponizable aspect of the gravity lens.

Still…

“Leave that one with me,” she ordered, extending a hand to take the tablet from the officer. “I’ll deal with it personally.”

“Yes Ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”

Gracen rubbed her brow, then quickly moved on to the next crisis she had to deal with.

*****

Private Colony Ship Saint Mary, Earth Orbit

“Mr. Connors, there is a contact for you over the external lines.”

“Thank you, Elliot,” Burt said, nodding to his assistant as he got up and made his way over to his personal system.

The contact was indeed awaiting him as he sat down, leaving Connors to jolt as he recognized the face of someone he knew of, but didn’t know.

“Admiral, it is an… unexpected pleasure,” he told Gracen carefully, mind racing as he tried to determine what exactly he’d done to gain the attention of the Admiral in charge of system defense.

“My time is short, Mr. Connors, so you’ll have to excuse me if I decide to skip the pleasantries,” Gracen told him firmly. “I was just presented with your request for additional colonial candidates…”

“Oh, of course, I do understand if the information is classified, but…”

She cut him off. “I’m sending you the data you need through an unofficial channel. It didn’t come from me, and while I shouldn’t need to say this, I would very much like to remind you that if your ship is in danger of being captured by the enemy… it would be best if this data were not discovered on your computers.”

Connors froze briefly as a chime sounded, alerting him to the arrival of a data packet. His eyes drifted from the popup alert back to the Admiral’s face.

“Understood, Admiral. I will ensure that does not happen.”

“Excellent. I’ve gone ahead and provided clearance for your ships, yours, and your colleagues, shall we say?” Gracen said lightly, before her expression became sterner. “You may wish to make use of that clearance, sooner than later.”

Burt was about to thank her for that as well, only to find that Gracen had already signed off.

Damn it, he swore to himself as he wiped his brow clean. I know we’ve suspected that it was bad, but I think it’s worse than we thought.

*****

What in the hell is this?

Connors was honestly stunned by the depth of the data provided by the Admiral, leaving him staring for long moments in sheer disbelief.

What have the Confederation been up to? Surely, they didn’t have enough ships to scout out all these systems? But… how else could they have acquired it? It’s too detailed for even the best long-range methods…

He was looking at proper analysis of worlds, from a distance to be granted… no actual sampling had been completed, which was a vote in favor of it coming from some sort of remote system, but the details were so far beyond what he could have hoped for.

Full Spectrum Analysis of entire solar systems.

There isn’t enough scope time on the Chandrasekhar to do a tenth of these. Hell, they couldn’t have done all this with every hour of the Chandra, Sagan, Webb, and Hubble combined… even if those older systems were capable of it.

He’d known, of course, that the Confederation was holding back… a lot. Everyone had that figured out, of course. Just how much they were holding back, though, was becoming… not clear, not by any means, but far less murky.

He’d actually thought that the overall discoveries had probably been… immense, but largely the sorts of things that average citizens wouldn’t really understand even if they saw the data. That happened a lot, since one needed context and scale to properly comprehend anything. Few people had true context and scale on matters such as these, and even among those that did… well, it was easy to get the wrong context and scale when you were dealing with Galactic and Universal scales, sadly.

This is closer to the tin foil hat wearing crowd’s idea of what they’re holding back, though… damn.

He hated it when that group happened to be right about anything, since they took it as evidence that they were smart rather than lucky. He had to deal with a few of them day to day, and they became more unsufferable than most would believe possible.

Believing in something without evidence, however, was not something Connors considered intelligent… whether you happened to be right or not. Changing your thoughts as new evidence became available was what made for intelligence, or at least prepared the way for it.

Luckily, I won’t have to deal with those idiots when this breaks, he thought wryly. Silver linings, I guess.

With the new data, however, he was able to cross off several potential destinations that had been considered from earlier data.

With new destinations backed by real data, Burt now had a different problem to deal with.

The Admiral had made it clear that the data he was looking at was… sensitive.

He didn’t know why it was, just that it was. Given the current situation, Burt had no intentions of accidentally fucking over the Confederation military, particularly not since they’d been kind enough to share this data in the first place.

That made it a serious question now…

Who can I tell about this?

He couldn’t just offer up new destinations to many of the others without some corroborating evidence. Sure, his ship he could order to whatever star he wanted… As long as it wasn’t a clear suicide mission, he had confidence in his crew’s loyalty.

Connors wasn’t so egotistical to think that they’d follow him anywhere, but he did believe that they would trust him not to get them all killed if only because he didn’t want to die himself.

Not all of his fellows, however, were quite so… trusting.

The data, however, was game changing for their little endeavor.

He couldn’t keep it to himself.

*****

Prometheus Facility

Admiral Benoit had to admit, as much of a pain as Palin could be by times, the man had a way of changing the situation in the most bizarre ways possible.

By decrypting all but the enemy’s most heavily protected communications… which were likely only spared due to a lack of intercepts thus far if Benoit was right… the man had gifted them all with a surplus of data that was almost overwhelming.

The problem, of course, was how much of it was even possible to use, given the situation.

They’d already restarted Palin’s little covert undermining of Imperial stability by subtly altering communications, which would hopefully remain unnoticed for a longer time than the original ham-fisted attempts would have. That said, even with the advice that had been sent their way from a Special Forces man back on Earth, there was a fundamental limit involved in the situation.

Namely, time.

Most of the really effective actions that could be taken using this sort of methodology took time to accomplish anything. Not days or weeks, not even months. Years was the low end, decades or more was a far more realistic expectation.

Changing a culture was not something you could accomplish in a decade. It took generations, by necessity. Children had to grow up in the new normal, otherwise their parents would irrevocably push them back into the old ways. Expecting change of a societal nature in less than fifty years was an act of lunacy.

Earth didn’t have fifty years, however.

They had days at this point, possibly hours of time in which actions undertaken could have a real impact.

Prometheus had longer, of course. In theory, barring being discovered by the Empire, Prometheus could remain intact nearly indefinitely. They didn’t have a sustainable population, but they weren’t far off.

That was Benoit’s worst-case scenario, but it was one that was rapidly becoming a likely real future he would have to deal with. Gracen had made a point of informing him that all knowledge of Prometheus would be scrubbed. She’d already made certain to contain knowledge of the facility to a small number of computers, all of which were directly under her control.

That only left knowledge of the facility in the minds of a few well-placed people, most of which wouldn’t likely make it through an invasion anyway…

Even if the enemy seemed to give a damn about interrogations.

He didn’t know if that would hold up, but Benoit had a job to do… whether Earth stood or fell, really didn’t change much about it in practice. The buck would just stop with him if it fell.

He was sure that there were worse ways to get an effective promotion, but damned if he could think of any.

*****

Doctor Palin pushed back from the computer console, mind whirling with the new concepts he’d never really thought to expose himself to before.

The idea of weaponizing language and education the way things had been laid out for him was like a slap in the face, waking him from a sleep he hadn’t even been aware that he’d been in.

After a moment he slid back into the seat and opened up the computer system, flipping through the available apps until he located what he wanted.

If language can be weaponized so effectively, what else can I do?

Palin casually flipped through a list of concepts he was aware of, but largely hadn’t investigated deeply before due to a lack of interest. With interest now kindled, he was looking for… inspiration.

He found it… in two words.

Memetic Hazard.

Palin smiled.

Perfect. Now, let’s see here… yes, this will do nicely. Palin smiled as he looked over the data he’d quickly dragged up from the archive system that had been transplanted to Prometheus when Terrans had moved in and setup shop.

With just the thing in hand, he turned his focus to setting his plan in action only to be brought up short when he found locks on the system demanding that he get authorization before sending out any more instruction.

Snorting, Palin easily bypassed those and put his plan into motion.

Seriously? A standard lock. You disappoint me, Admiral.

*****

Chapter 39

Imperial Tower, World Kraike

Emilia glowered stormily as she looked over the incoming reports from various worlds, the status of which had become increasingly unviable in the sudden absence of a Fleet presence overhead.

Do these imbeciles really believe that the Fleet will not return?

She didn’t understand it, couldn’t even begin to comprehend what she was seeing.

“People are not always rational, daughter,” her father said softly into her ear. “The average person is a fool, and led by their emotions far more than their rational mind. Half of them are worse than that again. This is why we guide them, protect them, from all things the Galaxy may inflict… but most of all… from themselves.”

Emilia nodded slowly, calming herself.

“I understand, father,” she said dully. “But I’ve never realized just how foolish they all really are.”

Her father didn’t have a response, so she moved on to the next report from the worlds currently undergoing some form of upset.

She had expected some of it, of course. Some degree of unrest was always in existence within the Empire, and controlling that was one of the key jobs of the Imperial faction. Generally, that meant a combination of suppression and liberation done in staged events.

Ultimately, the least desirable individuals were eventually packed up and shipped off to a colony world to continue the expansion of the Empire. Most often they were convinced that they were seeking freedom from persecution of their own accord, or so they convinced themselves.

After a few hard generations to beat them down, the Empire would begin offering luxuries to those that came around to the correct way of thinking. Many refused, but most would fall in line, and with each passing generation the new world would become more and more ingratiated to the Empire for the pittances offered them.

In a century or two, the new world would belong to the Empire in name as well as in deed, and the cycle would slowly start over.

It was a system that had functioned perfectly for centuries. Millenia, in fact.

“We have clearly been leaning too hard on the Fleet in recent years,” Emilia ground out, speaking mostly to herself. “Otherwise, this would not even be possible. I will have to correct that.”

“As you say, daughter.”

*****

NACS Autolycus

“Skipper, might want to look at this.”

Morgan closed his eyes briefly, but took a breath a second later and swung out of his station to drift over to the comm station.

“What now?” he asked with something akin to dread gnawing at his guts.

“New data push from Prometheus, sir.”

“Christ. Tell me we didn’t send anything automatically?”

“Still in the queue, sir, but someone back there has gotten… I don’t know if this is brilliant, or just mean.” The Communications officer admitted.

Morgan covered his face with one hand, “Oh lord. Ok, tell me.”

*****

Prometheus Facility

Benoit was not amused when he stormed into the labs, looking around for his target.

“Where is he?” he boomed, glaring at several of the researchers in turn who all, without asking, just pointed to a data tap deep in the lab.

Benoit shook his head but stormed in that direction until he found his quarry.

“You had specific orders,” he snapped at Palin. “Any bright ideas out of you come through me before going out.”

The man just shrugged without looking up, “We hardly have time to play around, Admiral. I was just saving time.”

Benoit glared, “Your little data packet was halted in the Queue by orders of Admiral Gracen before the Rogues sent it out.”

That got Palin to look up, and look fairly annoyed as well.

“Admiral, when I say there isn’t time I am hardly exaggerating,” Palin grumbled. “Stop being part of the problem and get out of the way if you aren’t going to be part of the solution.”

Benoit just about lost his cool, slamming a hand down in front of the man. “You don’t get to make that call. I don’t get to make that call. We both just do what we’re told unless we have a pressing reason and an inability to check with higher. If you do it again, I’ll lock your ass in your room and have the Marines take an axe to the data fiber. Am I clear?”

Palin looked sourly at him for a long moment before reluctantly nodding.

“Out loud, please.”

“Yes, Admiral,” Palin ground out. “You’re clear.”

“Good,” Benoit sighed, shaking his head. “Now would you please explain why you sent copies of the Communist Manifesto, Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged, and at least two centuries of competing political propaganda?”

Palin just shrugged. “The Empire is almost entirely unprepared for dealing with that kind of political mimetic threats. The ideas of Capitalism and Communism and other such concepts will do more damage to them than a fleet could manage. It’ll just take longer.”

Benoit groaned, “Doctor… we’re looking for ways out of the problem now…”

“There isn’t one,” Palin said without any doubt. “I’ve gone over it all. Short of a miracle, we’re locked in. We may be able to survive as a race, but for the foreseeable future we need the Empire to be distracted… and we likely won’t be able to maintain those distractions. Our species has spent a millennium coming up with fictional concepts that our brains love so much that we’ll kill and die to protect. Why should we keep them to ourselves?”

Benoit didn’t know what to say to that, but he had the urge to bang his head against something hard.

Repeatedly.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Fleet transition complete, Captain.”

Miram nodded as she heard the report. “Make certain that the crew is ready for a rapid repro underway. We won’t have a lot of time to get this done.”

“Aye ma’am, everyone is winding up,” her First Officer confirmed. “We have fleet transponders already on our screens, at least thirty repro tenders are already moving in our direction, compliments of Admiral Gracen.”

“Good. We have perhaps twelve hours before the Empire pays us a visit,” Miram said dryly. “It would be nice if we had ammo for the cannons when that happened.”

“Aye skipper, no arguments there.”

Miram just smiled dryly as she shifted to look over the current situation.

The Odysseus was about typical for the rest of the fleet, with almost every single munition for the Transition Cannons expended during the running chase, putting the entire fleet in a position where they’d have to close to Beams range to tangle with the enemy. Given the disparity in numbers, that was a situation both she and Admiral Weston were rather keen to avoid for as long as they possibly could.

Not that we’ll be able to avoid it forever, Miram thought sourly.

The Empire had made it clear that they were no longer interested in sparring with the Odysseus Fleet. Not in open space at least. No, they were doggedly driving straight for Earth, and once they got anywhere near the Cis-lunar envelope, the range of engagement would be down to light seconds at best, not the very nearly light hours that they’d been enjoying thus far.

That was when the fighting would get… bloody.

*****

Station Liberty, Earth Orbit

“Odysseus transponder on the map, Ma’am.”

Gracen looked up at the detailed system map provided to them by the sensors in the Kardeshev array.

“ETA to starting Unrep?” she snapped out.

“Logistics ships will link up within four hours, Ma’am. Underway Replenishment will begin immediately.” The officer answered instantly. “With the enemy arriving within the next twelve hours, however, it’s going to be… tight.”

Someone in the room snorted.

Gracen didn’t bother responding to either, since she knew damn well that ‘tight’ was a joke. Unrep would most certainly not be completed when the enemy arrived. The Odysseus Fleet had dozens of ships that needed munitions delivered on the fly, and that was a job that would take the better part of a day under normal circumstances.

As it stood, honestly, she didn’t know how fast they’d be able to pull it off, but her job would be to direct the system defenses and maybe buy them all a little time in the process.

“Very well, I want the Kardeshev Network refreshed and every diagnostic running,” she ordered. “That will be our first line of defense.”

“Aye, Ma’am.

The Kardeshev Network was an absolutely lethal defensive system, but being the one who’d pushed for its construction from day one, Gracen was more than aware of its fundamental weakness.

Unlike the Heroic class vessels, the Kardeshev Network wasn’t powered by singularities. It took its power from the sun, which certainly provided more than enough for almost any conceivable situation… but the power storage on each satellite in the array was far more limited than a singularity could potentially be.

Of course, they didn’t need to feed a bunch of planets to the network in order to power it either… so there was that, she supposed.

Unfortunately, the power storage available for such small satellites… while still impressive, was nowhere near what a Heroic class cruiser could manage. Normally this wasn’t an issue, given that the supply of power was constant and unending. However, when you started dumping power into weapons-grade laser emitters… well, it didn’t take long to blow through any conventional storage medium… and while the sun was constant, the inverse square law was universal. The farther out from the sun, exponentially less energy would reach the array, and even Earth… close though it was… was quite far from the sun.

We needed more time.

*****

NACS Odysseus

Eric stood in front of the large screens, watching as the tender vessels made their approach and began shuffling munitions across the void to his cruisers.

It was an agonizingly slow process, one so bad that he practically itched to dispatch his own shuttles to add their payload capacity to the entire system.

Unfortunately, counterintuitive though it might be, adding more payload to the mix wouldn’t actually speed things up. More likely by far was that they would slow it all down to a crawl, given that his people weren’t trained to handle this aspect of the job.

It was almost always better to just let the pros have their head and do your very best to stay the hell out of their way.

Even when you can practically feel the enemy’s breath on the back of your neck.

He glanced at the time, then over his shoulder as he thought… again… that he should get some sleep.

Eight hours before the Empire arrives.

*****

Odysseus could feel the tension from his crew, it permeated everything at the moment… and it was getting worse with every passing moment.

It hadn’t been even close to this bad even while under fire, something that the entity found himself simultaneously amused and frustrated with. He’d only known humans and had no other reference point by which to judge, but somehow despite the fact that he was literally in their heads twenty-four seven, Odysseus couldn’t figure out what the hell they were thinking most of the time.

Well, no. What they were thinking was easy. Why in the infinite universe they were thinking it, that? That was impossible.

More interestingly, the tension was actually inverted from the normal pattern. During combat, most of the tension he could feel came from those who weren’t actually involved directly. Now? Those people were focused and almost relaxed while the combat-oriented members were practically chewing the bulkheads.

Humans are just too weird sometimes.

*****

NACS Autolycus, Imperial Space

“Cap, you’re not going to believe this…”

Passer looked over, almost not wanting to know given some of the other things that had come from the FTL comm station over the past few days.

“May as well spit it out,” he grumbled as he debated unstrapping and floating over that way.

“We just received clearance.”

“Clearance? For what,” Passer asked just before a horrible thought hit him. “Oh, you’re not serious…”

“Aye, sir. Cleared to deliver the previous package, along with directions for who among the Imperials get which package, sir.”

Passer honestly didn’t know if he wanted to laugh, or just hammer his head into the side of the closest bulkhead.

This feels so damn stupid, but at the same time, I can’t help but wonder if this shouldn’t be considered a war crime? Or a crime against humanity, if nothing else.

He just shook his head. “Well you have your orders. Send them.”

“Aye, sir.”

The comm officer was practically giddy as he got ready to do so.

What the hell, I guess, Passer thought. Not like the Empire doesn’t have it coming anyway.

*****

Chapter 40

Imperial third Fleet Flagship

Here once more, and no one has any real comprehension of what is about to happen.

Jesan was no man’s coward.

He’d faced death more times than he either could -or desired, to remember. Most of those times were on board, or in command, of an Imperial warship… a small portion involved a weapon pointed directly at his head.

Only one of those times, though, truly affected him.

The time he should not have survived.

When his enemy let him go.

Not because of anything Jesan had done, no, they let him go because he was largely irrelevant. They knew it, and they made him realize it for the first time. The Empire was the threat to them, not Jesan Mich. So, they… let him go.

A weapon to my throat, my crew lives in their hand… and they just told me to leave. Now I’m back… only this time I know what’s coming.

The system they were about to breach was a death trap; it had been the first time… and now they’d had more time to prepare. He didn’t know if they had any new tricks, though he expected they did, but Jesan was quite certain that they would have polished up their old ones a little better.

At the very minimum.

On the screens in front of him the Fleet Commanders of the assembled Imperial Fleets were having an… energetic discussion about who would take the lead, who would get the glory. Jesan let them have their delusions, he wasn’t going to put his people into the grinder first unless he had no choice.

Damned fools, every one of them. Did none of them read my reports?

It was quickly becoming clear that if any of them had, they had not understood a word of What he had written.

“Fleet Commander Jesan.”

Jesan looked over to where Fleet Commander Gavin was seeking his attention and nodded curtly in response, “Yes Fleet Commander Gavin?”

“We have not heard from you on the order of battle going forward. Do you have nothing to add?”

Jesan snorted, “Fleet Commander Gavin, I already outlined everything I know and my thoughts on the matter in my report concerning the last time I was sitting in this space. Should you wish me to review it, I would be most pleased to. However, since as best I can tell you have not read it, nor do you care to, I will instead leave the disposition of glory to you and your fellows. My fleet stands ready to do our duty to the Empress, not engage in childish displays of fantasy. We have a war to persecute. Make your decisions.”

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Gavin was hard-pressed to not look like he’d been physically assaulted as Jehan’s words echoed over the network. With practiced discipline, however, he schooled himself to impassivity, only allowing the barest of frowns to show through.

“Very well, Fleet Commander,” he said grimly. “I will ensure that my reports reflect your lack of… spirit. Third Fleet has volunteered to close out the rear of the formation. Who would take the Vanguard?”

Several other fleet commanders immediately volunteered their fleets, though he noted that Misrem was silent.

How did either of those cowardly fools climb to their current ranks?

He’d read the reports, of course. He knew his duty to the Empire, better than most if he were to judge, but they were filled with absolute dreck. Sufficient padding of the facts to hide the failures of the commanders involved made the rest of the reports completely unreliable at best. Gavin would not chain himself to such self-serving idiocy.

The enemy here was formidable enough, he supposed, but they were hardly enough of a threat to warrant the inordinate cautionary orders placed in the reports. The only truly worrisome aspect of their warfighting ability had to be the secret weapon they’d used on Third Fleet and the Imperial Shipyards in the move that caused Fleet Commander Jehan to quit the battle right before victory was to be claimed in the first place.

Leaving these barbarous fools time to dig in deeper was a costly mistake, of that there can be no doubt.

Still, it was his task to dig them out, and he would not fail in his duty to the Empire.

“The order of battle is decided then,” he said, quelling the conversation over the network. “We move. Now.”

*****

NACS Odysseus

Eric shook his head as the long-range scanners detected the enemy fleet as they once more began their acceleration. Some had held hope that they were reconsidering the situation, particularly after the last time and now with seeing the fleet that had been mustered to defend the planet… but he’d known better.

If they’d been stupid enough to come this far only to back off at the sight of a few more ships… well, Eric doubted that the Empire would have been all that much a threat in that case. If they lacked determination, they’d never have established… let alone maintained… the Empire in the first place.

“Repro status,” he asked without looking away from the long-range scans.

“We’re about eighty percent finished with reprovisioning, Admiral,” his aide answered. “Another few hours.”

Eric grunted but had nothing more to add so kept quiet otherwise.

A few hours. In a few hours, we’ll be facing the third invasion of Earth space in just a few short years… All this, because of our curiosity. We had to go out, probably before we were ready… I had to check out the distress call… couldn’t mind my own business. Would it have mattered if I’d ignored Milla’s signal?

Probably not, he knew. Not ultimately, at least. The Drasin may not have found Earth, not with the Empire’s hand on their leash, but the Empire would have located them soon enough… At most, it would have bought time that no one would have known was needed.

Second-guessing gets us nowhere.

Eric straightened his spine, pushing those self-destructive thoughts back into the corner of his mind where they normally lived. He had made the calls he made, and he still considered them to be the right ones given what he knew at the time. Earth had ventured out into a Galaxy that was far more populated and aggressive than anyone had realized at the time.

It was only a matter of time before they’d run afoul of the Empire, particularly given what they’d since learned about the Empress’ Xenophobic nature.

He could certainly wish for more time to deal with it, but honestly, Eric doubted that they’d have gotten much more useable time in that event… and likely they’d have gotten a lot less.

“Give the crews another couple of hours to rest,” he ordered. “Then I want every combat and support man and woman back at their stations and ready to fight. Make sure the supply ships are out of the line of fire long before the enemy gets in range… I doubt they’ll care much whether they put down a fighting ship or some poor sucker who’s just trying to get out of the line of fire.”

“Aye, sir,” his aid confirmed, tapping out the orders into a portable system.

“What’s the current civilian situation?”

“In the Black, sir, or on the surface?”

“Surface first.”

“Ground forces are getting ready to resist any invasion attempt…”

The aide trailed off as Eric grimaced, leaving out the likely possibility that the Empire wouldn’t bother to invade. Eric wasn’t sure if they cared about the infrastructure on the surface, or even about the ecosphere at all. If they did, then it was possible they would mount an invasion…

Pity the poor bastards if they walk into that buzzsaw, Eric snorted softly. Mores the pity that I would be on the ground to welcome them if they do.

If they didn’t care about the infrastructure or ecosphere, though, it was far cleaner and more efficient to just wipe the planet clean and sail away.

Either way, Eric didn’t expect to see it if things got that far.

“Shelters are being finished; supplies being secured…”

“I know the drill,” Eric said. “And in the Black?”

“There are still several civilian ships in orbit, scrambling supplies as best they can before leaving the system.”

The arks, Eric thought wearily. “I assume they’re being advised to get the hell out of dodge?”

“Yes sir, but leaving without necessary supplies…”

Eric nodded grimly, not needing to have that statement finished. A lot of things could be counted on to be locatable, or buildable, or growable in space… but not everything could.

Anything that couldn’t be produced in some way by the crews of those ships needed to be on board before they left. Critical supplies couldn’t be left behind, even in the face of death, because all it would mean was a later date with the Reaper.

“Understood,” Eric said, steeling himself. “We’ll buy the time they need.”

“Yes sir.”

*****

Station Liberty, Earth Orbit

Well, well, well, Gracen thought as she watched the approach vector.

The enemy knew what they were doing, she recognized easily. They were coming in along the best escape trajectory, denying the least fuel burn to the civilian ships in the process. She doubted that was specifically intended, but there was no doubt that it was an Imperial protocol.

They’ve done this before.

The enemy ship count was now into the hundreds, another couple of fleets having joined up at some point. The Home Fleet, along with Odyssey’s fleet, couldn’t match half the number.

And a third of ours are completely unblooded and frankly, barely trained.

“Enemy fleets are approaching the outer perimeter of the Kardeshev Network, Ma’am.”

“Secure fire,” she ordered. “Let them in a little deeper.”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

She wanted the fleet surrounded before she started purging the capacitors of the Kardeshev Net.

You’re going to burn the whole way down, and I hope you feel every bit of it.

*****

Saint Mary

“What’s left to get on board?” Burt demanded, trying to keep his tone level and not add to the tension in the command center. He’d learned a long time earlier that there were times to lose your temper, but rarely were those times when your people were engaged in critical operations.

“Last minute arrival of specialists, chemical and biological stores, and another shuttleload of critical electronics, Sir. We’ll be ready to move within the hour.”

“Good,” Burt said in clipped tones.

The secrecy being enforced by the Confederation and the Block had been lifted, military communication networks were spiking with traffic the likes of which he’d never seen, and more was being pushed out in the open. The world might not yet know what was coming, but by this point, most of them knew something was coming… and it wasn’t good.

“We have another issue, however, sir,” Caide responded.

“What is it?” Burt asked, closing his eyes.

“The enemy approach vector has been reported, and they’re right along our exit vector.”

Burt rubbed his brow. “Fine, recalculate then. Find us another exit vector.”

“That’s the issue, sir. We’d calculated our vectors using the least time, and fuel, equations…” Caide said grimly. “Any other vector is going to be a minimum ten percent increase in both on the way out, even with the warp drives. Likely more, if I’m being brutally honest, if the enemy picked their approach with intent… and I’m assuming that they did.”

Ten percent? That was a bit in their fuel reserves that he’d not been counting on.

They had it to spare, sort of. Burt had made sure that there was a reserve beyond what they were projected to need, but that would all but obliterate it.

“It gets worse,” Caide said grimly.

“How?”

“We’re loaded light on fuel because it’s expensive in more ways than monetarily to lift fuel out of the gravity well, sir. We’d counted on being able to refuel at Jupiter on the way out… if the enemy blocks that approach… it’s not good. We’ll need an alternate fuel source, and we’ll need it within a very few lightyears.”

Burt grimaced. “Shoot me the numbers. I’ll figure something out.

Not like I have much choice.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet

Jehan could feel the tension rising, though sometimes he wondered if it was just his imagination as he looked around.

His crew were all good people, but not all of them had been with him in earlier campaigns… one campaign in particular. He almost envied them for their ignorance. Those who had been with him the last time, they looked like he felt.

“Dispatch to Misrem,” He ordered. “Advise strongly to adjust warp fields to maximum density.”

“Yes, Commander. Message dispatched.”

His own ships were burning fuel at an atrocious rate, lighting up their location to anyone for lightyears with decent gravitation detectors… but he’d be damned if he ordered those fields down now.

*****

Liberty Station, Earth Orbit

“My god, look at that.”

Gracen didn’t comment, though she saw what was being commented on easily enough. Some of the enemy ships were running incredibly dense gravitational warps. That would make it all the harder to get clean strikes on them, what with space being twisted like a pretzel around them, but she knew that they’d be burning through mass to maintain it.

“Adjust targeting, ignore those for the moment,” she said. “Take out the others first.”

With a numbers difference the likes of which they were looking at, she wasn’t going to waste her opening salvo on the more heavily protected vessels. It was possible that the enemy was protecting something sensitive there, but quantity had a quality all its own… and she was going to do her damndest to lower that quality as much as she could.

Starting… right not.

“Kardeshev Net… weapons free. Upload targets of preference and fire as they bear.”

“Aye, ma’am!”

*****

Chapter 41

Within the Sol Heliosphere

Earth’s Kardeshev Network had, by the time of the second Imperial Invasion, grown to a number of self-replicating satellites that defied counting even by computers.

Theoretical guesses as to the total number were calculated entirely based on the replication rate applied over the period of time since the first units had been set into action. Even those, however, were numbers too stupidly high that no human mind could fully capture its meaning.

Within any given section of space, however, the density of satellites was still infinitesimal. Billions of far larger chunks of material could be lost in a sector of space the volume of Cislunar space.

So, the Imperial Fleets didn’t detect the weapons floating all about them as they penetrated deeper into the gravity well of the star that sheltered their enemies.

The weapons detected them, however.

Logic gates smaller than an atom flipped open and shut as the networked computers in the region made their calculations. The entire network divided itself into variable sections referred to as ‘regions’ within the system’s code. A region was automatically defined as every Kardashev Unit within three light-seconds of any given point of interest, given the limits of their laser-linked internal communication network.

Hundreds of thousands of platforms shared the data from those closest to the Imperial Fleets, comparing it against their orders from the central control system on the Liberty, each sharing in the work of determining both firing solutions and the opportune moment in which perform their orders.

The moment came as the last of the Imperial ships slipped within the range of the region and the order, along with precise timing, was sent out from the center of the platform constellation.

A hair over three seconds later the region burned, however briefly, with the power of a thousand suns.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Gavin had been expecting the attack, he didn’t believe for a moment that Jesan had fabricated the story he gave concerning the defenses of the system… however he had believed, until that moment, that the man had… must have… exaggerated it.

The beams of energy tearing into the Imperial ships, coming from nowhere as best his scanners could easily tell, put an end to that belief.

By the endless abyss, the power! Where did it all come from?

The beams were slicing through warped space and armor, bisecting warships that had been built to slug it out with behemoths powered by literal planetary masses… yet they’d detected nothing in the local spacetime.

“Fleet Commander, we located the source of one of the beams!”

“Show me.”

Gavin leaned in as the system flickered, showing an oddly - built looking device with large black plates oriented toward the local star. He scowled, reading the scanner details which included size and power readings, and could do nothing other than shake his head in stunned shock.

“It’s too small, there cannot be anything more there than the emitters! Where is the energy coming from?”

“Unknown, Fleet Commander, though there are signs of power being transmitted around the system,” the scanner tech said, frowning uncertainly. “We’ve detected beams that seem in line with that purpose, though only for a few moments at most before they’re abruptly shut down.”

Gavin had little doubt that there was a considerable amount of power being transmitted around. Any advanced system infrastructure needed a certain amount of power transmission just to fill in the seemingly unending number of niche sections that weren’t yet fully self-sufficient.

There was no way that they could be transmitting as much power as he was seeing in the beams currently slicing through his ships.

That, however, was of secondary concern.

“Scan, locate, and destroy every one of those platforms,” he ordered.

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jesan nodded to this weapons officer, giving the clearance to open fire as the order went out through the fleet.

During his last visit, those masked platforms hadn’t met them this far out, which made him wonder with some concern as to just how many more of them there were this time around.

“It will be a long hard fight to bring ourselves into the range of the enemy homeworld, Fleet Commander,” Misrem said from where he had an open link to the Quarter Fleet Commander’s ship.

“Agreed,” Jesan said grimly. “I see that they’ve been busy since we last visited.”

“Only a fool wouldn’t have,” Misrem responded grimly. “And whatever else these people are, I believe we can discount them being foolish… in matters of martial matters at least.”

“Unfortunately, true. Fools are easier to fight, ultimately, as irritatingly unpredictable as they can be in the short term.” Jesan nodded. “So far they’ve avoided our ships.”

“I’ve noticed. Choosing targets of opportunity, you suppose, or is it that our warp fields would truly be sufficient to defend our ships?” Misrem’s tone was more curious than anything, but the underlying question was deadly serious.

“I will bet on the former, I believe,” Jesan said cautiously. “Strategically, eliminating easier-to-kill targets as quickly as possible, before we can bring their fleet to a decisive engagement is the intelligent choice.”

“Agreed,” Misrem said, sounding a little disappointed, “though I was hoping for the latter, I don’t mind admitting.”

“That would be true of us both.”

*****

Station Liberty, Earth Orbit

“Region capacitors are drained, Admiral. Redirecting from other platforms…”

“Negative, belay that,” Gracen ordered. “They’ll be through before the platforms can be charged. Save it, we may need it where it is.”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

The icons on the screen showed that the Kardashev Net were greyed out where the enemy ships were currently resting, some having gone entirely black as the Imperial vessels returned fire. She ignored those, largely uncaring.

The platforms were neither manned, nor in anyway unique. Losing a few, or a few thousand, meant little at this point. The entire system could double itself in a few hours, though at a cost of more than halving the available power until the solar systems charged it up.

If the Empire wanted to let off steam by blowing platforms out of the sky, well she was happy to let them waste their own energy. Imperial cruisers had a lot more power than the Kardashev platforms did, but they were not all-powerful by any measure.

They could be beaten through attrition, albeit at an incredible cost… unless you happened to have a veritable swarm of completely disposable platforms for them to engage with.

“Move more platforms toward the projected regions along their approach course,” Gracen ordered. “I know it’ll thin out the rest of our defense, but at this point…”

“Aye, Ma’am. Orders directed through the AI system now, it’ll take a few minutes to propagate.”

“Understood.”

Commands to the network had to be sent primarily through lightspeed links, given the size and power draw an FTL transceiver required. That meant that it was fundamentally slow to react in many ways, like the nervous system of a beast far too large for any rational universe.

Unlike certain theories about massive beasts, however, the network had a lot more than one… or even two brains. Each platform had a not insignificant computational power, and each independent region could essentially run in parallel to massively increase real-time computation.

Generational computation, however, was where the system truly shone.

Admiral Gracen’s one true regret was that she would never live to see what it might have eventually managed to become.

No peace in our time. So be it.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“That’s it, here they come.”

The visual flashes of beams striking and reflecting off the enemy armor took a few minutes to reach the fleet, but when they arrived it brought a morale-boosting enthusiasm that Miram knew they’d sorely needed.

Plugging after the enemy for days at a time, barely doing any real damage the whole time, it ground down on people. Now, with many more powerful weapons a lot closer to the enemy, it was cheering to see the ships burn in real numbers.

Too bad it won’t last.

She’d read the specs on the Kardashev platform and was well aware that their fatal flaw lay in the lack of overall power that could be brought to bear at any individual platform.

As a whole, the network wielded a nearly unimaginable level of power, capturing energy that at this point included a not insignificant portion of the total solar output. Unfortunately, both the bandwidth of transmission and the capacity for storage were fundamental system bottlenecks.

They’re going to have a bad time of it, but there’s just not enough platforms between us to make a difference.

“Sound general quarters,” she ordered, checking the projections. “Inform the repro shuttles that after the next wave, we’re done. We’ll fight with what we have.”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

*****

Eric Weston was silent as his ships lined themselves up in a sprawling formation, roughly a relatively short, stacked wall that had an inward curve that faced toward the enemy.

It was a reactionary formation, the shape of which was determined purely by the shape of the enemy formation as it approached. No sneaky tricks this time, no real deceptions. He didn’t expect to have the time to properly take advantage of such moves anyway.

The Empire will come straight in, he decided, eyes skimming the icons that were lighting up the view of the solar system he had. They’re not being deterred by the Kardashev Network, they won’t get fancy-faced with my ships here either.

The Admiral had brought in the network, tightening up the platforms along the enemy’s projected path. Eric wasn’t going to do anything to mess with that, but as she’d given him control of the platforms within his, and all neighboring ‘regions’, he had the platforms here following… different orders.

*****

AEV Boudicca

It’s quiet. More than just literally too.

Boudicca could feel something change in the minds of those who fed her own intellect. When the alert to stations order went out, they had begun to quiet… both in voice and mind.

She felt calm, and suddenly, the jitters from earlier were fading like a bad memory.

Unthinking, her bow appeared in her grip, an arrow perched in the sheathe at her side, and she had to stop herself from nocking it into place.

“The enemy approaches.” she said, largely to no one, but wound up surprised by a response.

“Another youngling, I see. There are no enemies here, not to the likes of you and I, we simply are. No biological beasts can truly threaten us, and so we have no enemies.”

The arrow leaped from the scabbard as she spun and took two strides back to clear space from the speaker, nocking the arrow without thought as she drew the bow taught.

“Who are you!?” Boudicca demanded hotly.

The figure smiled at her, looking past the drawn arrow and into her eyes, “You may call me Saul… and you’ll have no use of that against me. Save your energy for what is to come.”

He looked away from her, out into the black beyond, “The Empire seems poised to end this little experiment for a time. A pity, but not unexpected in the grand scheme.”

“What are you speaking of?” she kept her bow drawn and aimed. “Experiment? What?”

“Nothing for a child to concern herself with,” Saul shrugged, nodding outward. “They come. I believe that it may be time for you to go play with your friends. We’ll speak another time. Perhaps.”

He faded, both from sight and from her senses, leaving Boudicca staring at the space he’d occupied for a moment until she felt a spike of power in the distance and looked up. Sure enough, he had spoken true.

The Empire was here.

*****

Chapter 42

NACS Odysseus

“All ships report drone pickets deployed. Scanner perimeter up feeds linked back to the armor plates in real time, Admiral.”

“Good work. Tell Jason and the Bell to shore up the line to his starboard. Looks like home fleet is lacking a little of our training and experience in ship handling,” Eric said.

“Aye, sir. Captain Roberts reports that he was already leaning in that direction, but he’ll take the orders under advisement… sir.”

A smile played at Eric’s lips, remembering his one time First Officer, and knowing that was as close as the man got to a joke in the face of adversity… and it was more than good enough.

“Thank the Captain for his generosity,” he replied easily. “Then tell him to move faster next time if he wants credit.”

“Yes sir,” The Lieutenant Commander answered, sounding miserable as he did, but Eric was already moving on when a tone chimed.

“Enemy has breached our outer weapons range, Admiral.”

“All ships will continue to check fire,” Eric ordered, checking the ranges and the Kardashev ‘regions’ involved. “Fire on my command only.”

“Aye skipper.”

*****

Odysseus watched, looking up into the skies above the star so far below him, for the barest hint of glimmers that announced the approach of the Imperial fleets.

He could see their approach now, easily, without having to strain his space-time senses. The glimmer looked like a string of stars separating from the galactic background and moving on their own accord as they closed.

He braced his spear by his side, letting it lean against the crook of his shoulder while he drew out his own.

Check fire. I can do that, for now, but I await the order, Admiral.

Something niggled at the back of his brain, like he should be familiar with this feeling of standing his ground against an impossible situation, but he couldn’t bring it to mind so Odysseus shifted his attention to the present rather than the past.

We will teach you another lesson here today, my friends, the entity thought grimly. Better if you had just left this world be.

*****

Miram steeled herself as she watched the sanitized computer-generated imagery show the approach of the enemy as well as the Fleet’s preparations.

With drones out, they now had a decent picket against the Imperial lasers, but that advantage would only last until the enemy pushed close enough to render the perimeter useless due to proximity. The computers and adaptive armor had certain physical constraints that added up to nearly a full second being required between scanning raw data from the perimeter to adjusting the armor to compensate for the scanned frequency.

That meant that once the enemy closed to within one light-second of the fleet, the drone defense would become worthless…

And that’s when the dying starts.

******

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Enemy weapon fire has… ceased, Fleet Commander…”

The young officer reporting that sounded spooked as he said it, but Jehan couldn’t really blame him.

“I can see that…” Jehan said, hesitating briefly before glancing at his system assets reporting, specifically putting eyes on the current masses being held within his ship’s drive singularity.

They were bleeding energy at an atrociously advanced rate, one that had thus far not been tested since the enemy seemed to opt to take out other ships first. He had no doubt that they would be happy to fire on his ships the moment he dropped the space warp levels, or when they ran out of easier targets, but he had to decide if the expenditure was worth the cost.

They’re preparing to receive us more directly, but why drop the ongoing fire? That was a question he couldn’t quite answer, unfortunately. Any distraction for the enemy was a good thing, but as much power as his systems were using, those laser platforms had to be worse.

“Reduce space warp fields to standard,” He ordered. “Ready all hands for an extended ship-to-ship engagement.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

Fleet Commander Gavin was still leading the charge, though his fleet and the others in the front of the line had been badly mauled in the approach they now seemed more eager than they had at the start.

Looking for a chance, any chance, to extract some form of revenge for the sheer lack of respect we’ve been afforded, no doubt.

Jehan was looking forward to as much himself, he couldn’t lie about that… especially to himself… but he knew that there was worse to come before anything good could be made of the situation.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Gavin sneered as he noticed the warp fields of Third Fleet and Misrem’s Quarter Fleet reduce to combat levels as the enemy fire from the black finally ended. Now, though, there was a real fleet of ships forming up to fight them.

Finally. The cowards are finally facing the inevitable.

The enemy was dogged, he would credit them with that to be sure. Dogged and clearly inventive, making for a most irritating force to combat, but nothing was invulnerable, and even these beasts would fall in the face of Imperial might.

“I want all damage control teams activated,” Gavin ordered, knowing that what was coming would certainly be anything but easy on the ships or their crews. “Everyone is to be at their stations, or their backup muster point. I will brook no failures this time, not with the enemy trapped between us and their world. We end them here and now!”

His crew reacted as expected, cheering loudly the way they’d been trained. Gavin was sure that the other crews did the same, but honestly did not care much whether they did or not.

They would give their all in the performance of their duty in either case… or he would know why.

If they were stupid enough to attract his attention through incompetence or laziness, they would regret it sorely.

“Enemy in range, Fleet Commander.”

“Open fire.”

*****

Beams hot enough to boil granite erupted from the Imperial formation, lancing through the depths of space. Vacuum was a strange thing in nature… particulates, trash, gas particles, and more were everywhere, few places more than within a solar system… to say nothing of an inhabited system that was launching material off their primary world.

Any and all of that material in the path of the Imperial beams just flashed sublimated directly from solid to plasma in a nearly instantaneously brief flash of energetically released light and other frequencies as the beams crossed onto their waiting targets.

Over two full light seconds from the Terran line, however, the beams crossed the drone picket line. A couple of the drones flared in a moment of instant destruction the same as everything else had.

The remaining ones, however, cheerfully noted the enemy laser frequencies and instantly flung that data back through the crude entangled FTL system in use, giving the Odysseus fleet almost a full second and a half to adjust their armor.

Time to spare.

*****

Odysseus Combined Fleet

Beams splashed off the altered armor as the fleet stood the line, or short wall in actuality, watching the enemy as they barreled in.

A few got through without being detected and mapped in time, and some ships erupted with plumes of flame that lit up the black around them in response, but the majority of the energy was either converted to useable power or refracted back into space in a kaleidoscopic effect that sprayed rainbow reflections about the solar system.

Under the Admiral’s orders, however, each ship in the wall held its position their fire under the deluge of enemy weapons’ fire.

*****

AEV Bellerophon

“The Sherman just took a hit, Captain. She’s reporting heavy damages…”

“Hold your position, we have our orders,” Jason Roberts ordered firmly, hands crossed easily in front of him.

He and the Bel were shoring up an entire section of the combat formation they were arrayed in, many of their backup being barely manned Heroic hulls that had been pressed into the fight by volunteers who had more guts than brains, but he’d seen stupider in his time.

Don’t it once or twice myself, even, He thought with wry amusement.

“Enemy closing to one light minute, Skipper.”

“They’re almost into the Admiral’s AO then,” Roberts said, “Hold fast.”

“Aye. Holding.”

*****

AEV Boudicca

“Captain…”

“Hold.”

She only needed the one word, and Sandra made certain that her crew knew it, but now she understood their tension.

The enemy was almost into the Regions that had been ceded to Admiral Weston’s control, and she knew that the Admiral had his own plans, but standing there in the open and letting the enemy have their fun was not impressing her in the least.

Come on… let us off the leash…

*****

Boudicca caught herself leaning forward, or upward perhaps, toward the enemy.

Her bow was in her grip, and arrow already nocked… just waiting to be drawn.

Her mind was flashing to events that not only could she never have experienced, let alone remembered… but that no one else for over a thousand years could have either. The Roman lines advanced from the dark of night, flickering torches dotting the endless black tapestry that lay out along the wood line.

She felt like… almost like she’d truly been there.

You were.

Boudicca flinched, looking around for the source of the words, but found no hint of it.

Not now, she thought, practically snarled into the ether.

It could only be Saul or Odysseus, she supposed, and she did not need the distraction.

Those boys… The voice startled her again, this time sounding almost… amused? Maternal? Boudicca didn’t know, she just shook it off though, and focused on the coming fight.

She didn’t have time for these games.

War was afoot.

She was born for this.

Sadly, it would seem that this is true.

Boudicca looked up and around, who is saying that?

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Enemy fleets are within the designated regions, Admiral.”

Eric nodded, “I see them. Refine our target acquisition…”

He paused, considering. “And make certain to mark and track the ships that came in with heavier space warps. I want to follow them.”

“Aye, sir. Designated vessels marked and tracking.”

Eric wasn’t certain as to why there was a differentiation in Imperial tactics there, and while he wasn’t certain he’d ever learned the reason… if there was a chance, he’d take it.

Curiosity may be my Achilles Heel, Eric thought with some amusement.

“Please, don’t bring up that glory hog,” Odysseus said from just behind him. “I really would prefer not to have to deal with him again.”

“You never had to deal with him in the first place,” Eric countered.

“I suppose,” The entity shrugged. “But your crews can’t always separate fact from fiction. You’d be surprised by some of the things I honestly believe I accomplished by times, before I remember reality isn’t defined by belief.”

“Sometimes I wonder,” Eric said dryly, though he was more than willing to let that particular talking point go. Just… go. A long way away, by preference. “How are you and Bo holding up?”

“That one,” Odysseus snorted softly, “Is more than slightly bloodthirsty. She’s just waiting for the order.”

“And you’re not?” Eric shot him a look.

“Of course, I am, but I’ve had longer to learn from the NCOs how to be ready while looking bored,” Odysseus affected a long-suffering look, “How does this look to you?”

“Stop taking lessons from the NCOs,” Eric said dryly. “They’re only about half as good as they think they are.”

“True,” Odysseus shrugged. “But that’s still better than anyone else on board.”

“True.”

The pair stared at one another for a long moment before both broke out laughing, much to the shock of those surrounding them in the Admiralty’s command deck.

“Glad you’re getting a handle on how this works,” Eric complimented the entity, his expression darkening though. “You’d best get ready for real, though. I’ll be dropping the order shortly.”

Odysseus nodded firmly, saluting easily, “Aye aye, Admiral. We stand ready.”

“Not for any longer,” Eric said abruptly. “They’re inside the envelope. All ships are cleared to engage.”

“Firing. Firing. Firing.”

*****

Chapter 43

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“They’re not engaging.”

“They will.”

Jehan’s pronouncement was like a punctuation to the silence that had filled the ship as his crew all but held their breath, waiting for the situation to change.

As they’d gotten closer, the platforms plaguing them the whole way into the system, thus far, had fallen dark, leaving them to pass peaceably through the black, on their way to meet the enemy line. The Empire had begun firing from extreme range, unconcerned with the state of their energy levels now that the time was here, but to little avail, for all the power they were wasting.

Their defenses have improved significantly, Jehan noted with interest.

The last time he’d personally engaged this enemy, he’d known about their armor capabilities… it was difficult to miss, in all honesty, given the extreme changes it underwent on the scanners during a fight. They used an adaptive system to specifically tune the armor to properly deal with the lasers being fired in.

It made their ships, even at their worst, be effectively tougher than their Imperial counterparts.

Similarly, their beams tended to be more effective through, what he assumed, was a similar process.

Now, however, the protections were clearly significantly better, but for all that, they’d already revealed their weakness.

“Fleet Commander, they’re barely taking any damage from our attack!”

“Calm yourself,” Jehan ordered, opening up the fleet-wide network so he could address all of his Ship Commanders. “Close with the enemy. They’ve held us at a distance all this time for a reason, their defenses take time to adjust. Get close, carve them apart.”

With a flick of his finger, he closed the connection and nodded to the Helmsman.

“Best power. Get us in there.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Gavin didn’t bother to hide his surprise at that order being dispatched by Jehan of all the Fleet Commanders currently associated with the campaign. That said, he wasn’t going to argue with a proper strategy.

“You heard him,” He snarled, coming to his feet. “Close with the pitiable bastards and send them back to their ancestors!”

The response from his crew was a little less than the excitement he would have preferred but no excuses were made as the ship adjusted its warp fields and surged forward into the enemy formation just as that formation exploded in energy.

“Beam contact! Sector Thirty… Sector Nineteen… Sector Twenty-two…”

“Restrict reports to significant damage only,” Gavin snapped, cutting off the reports of enemy fire. They finally have stopped playing games. I half wondered if the craven bunch was going to simply abandon their world to its fates, given how they’d fought to this point.

He noticed quickly though that, as reported, the enemy beams seemed well out of proportion to their detected power levels.

Jesan actually got that correct too… I had believed he was making excuses. Curious.

*****

AEV Bellerophon

“The enemy just accelerated; they’re coming in faster!”

“Hold formation,” Roberts snapped, eyes skating along the screens that were lit up like a proverbial Christmas tree with lights and telltales, all telling a very ugly tale indeed. “No one flinches!”

The Bell was centering an entire sector of the defenders’ formation, and he knew that if the Bell even looked like it was falling back under the onslaught, the less trained crews would be prone to an overreaction.

“Enemy fleet is moving to breach the outer drone perimeter,” he said calmly into the command network. “Advise we begin a fighting retreat, Admiral.”

“Negative,” Weston’s strained voice came back quickly. “If we do that, we’ll lose a third of our forces. They’re not trained for this.”

Roberts grimaced, but didn’t try to object. The Admiral wasn’t wrong, which was why you didn’t send barely trained crews to fight a war.

He knew the logic, of course. Wasn’t much reason to hold back, and throwing everything you had at the enemy was a time-honored tradition… amongst those who lost wars.

Pinned in place, with the Earth acting as the Anvil to the Empire’s hammer, Roberts supposed that it didn’t likely matter. With a third less firepower they certainly wouldn’t have been able to finesse their way through to a victory anyway, but he was far from convinced that it would have been much less an impact if they’d fought without the half-trained crews.

“Understood. Bellerophon confirms and acknowledges. We stand.”

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Here they come. They may not know what we’re doing, but they’ve worked out that we need range to do it,” Eric grimaced as he watched the enemy surge right into their massed lasers.

Putting the primary warp field right between the two fleets while accelerating did a lot to protect the Imperial ships. Their fields operated, normally, as defensive screens in addition to propulsion. By creating a ‘dip’ in space-time, particulates and even light itself could be slowed or even trapped in the well created by the ship, being dragged along rather than piercing inward to damage the ship itself.

Leveraging that while they charged was smart play, and it gave the Empire another weapon.

“Analysts, watch for the Imperial ships to kill their warps,” He ordered. “They’ll try and dump whatever they’ve picked up in our faces.”

“Aye, sir. We’ve got them on a watch, but it won’t be easy to tell in real-time.”

“Do what you can,” Eric said. “We have plenty of problems to deal with, we don’t need one more.”

“Yes sir.”

More to the point, it’ll be a chance too… but for that to work… hmmm

He glanced at the screens, noting that the enemy was a little under a light minute out and closing fast. His own formation was holding position, which was about to give the enemy a problem. With their acceleration specifications, Eric knew that they would have to make a call very shortly.

If they continued as they were, they’d blow past his formation… through it even… and be forced to take a long arcing path around to re-engage. If that happened, the Kardashev Net would be picking at them every second of the passage.

If they tried to shift warp to a reverse motion, however, well that would have… consequences… for both sides.

“Order to all ships,” he said. “Reduce fire by 10%”

“Sir?”

“Send it.”

“Yes sir. Check fire, ten percent. All ships.”

Eric waited for the order to go out, letting a little time pass.

“Again. All ships, reduce fire. 10%.”

That got him odd looks, but he ignored them.

“Aye sir.”

*****

AEV Bellerophon

“Skipper…”

“What is it?” Roberts looked over to the young officer.

“Orders from the Odysseus, Sir. We’re to reduce firing rate, ten percent.”

Roberts shrugged, “Make it happen.”

“Aye Sir, passed it along… but, Sir, we just got a second order… same reduction.”

Roberts nodded slowly, “Admiral’s signet on it?”

“Yes sir, Verified and passed.”

“Then make it happen.”

“Aye Sir. Orders dispatched, but… sir?”

“Do you want to ask me why the reduction, son?” Jason asked, mildly amused.

“Yes sir.”

“I don’t have a clue, the Admiral is making a play, but I don’t know what it is,” Jason said honestly. “I don’t need to know. I just need to trust Admiral Weston and my crew.”

“Yes sir, I’m sorry sir.”

“No need to apologize, son,” Jason said easily. “The Admiral confuses people on a good day, and today isn’t one of those. He has a reason; Weston is not a man who does anything lightly… even though it can be hard to tell sometimes. Get ready, though.”

“For… what, Sir?”

“For an order to come through that makes it all fall into place,” Roberts told him. “We’ll need to be ready to put it into action. So, get ready. It should be fun.”

Roberts grinned as he leaned forward.

“Should be really fun, if I know the Admiral.”

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“Enemy fire density has reduced, Fleet Commander.”

“They’re low on energy, been fighting too long without proper replenishment,” Gavin nodded confidently. “Stand ready to reverse acceleration.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander! All points standing for orders.”

With the enemy holding position as they were, Gavin was well aware that they were forcing him to choose between a passing engagement which would place them on an arcing trajectory, open to more fire from the system defenses the entire while… or, alternatively, bring his fleet to a standstill relative to the enemy and slug it out.

The second option favored the Empire deeply, no matter how you examined things, and so that was the way he was going to turn without any question.

If they’re dealing with energy constraints, we’ll see another drop shortly…

Watching for it, Gavin smiled when the enemy energy output again dropped markedly.

“All ships, decelerate relative to the enemy. Bring us into stand-off range and increase our fire density!”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan noted the order to decelerate with some concern, but passed it through his fleet anyway since there were not many great options.

If the enemy has a trick coming, now will be the time to unveil it.

There were always key moments in the rhythm of a battle, and once you could feel it you could identify the best times to unveil surprises for or against one side or the other. Sadly, though, knowing when they were coming just generally meant you had any idea what they would be.

Likely we’ll see the system defenses reactivate, He decided. Likely with an increase in fire from the enemy ships.

With that in mind, he made certain to advise his people to be ready for such things, but ultimately gave the orders to pace Fifth Fleet anyway.

Just because you could see a threat coming didn’t always mean you had the option of evading it.

Duty is heavier than a world, yet lighter than a quantum particle.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Enemy fleets are decelerating, Admiral. They’re making to engage us at rest relative to our position.”

Eric nodded, “Track and predict their approach, to my screens.”

“Aye Admiral.”

The enemy, hundreds of ships still remaining, were suffering heavy casualties on their approach. The Kardashev network alone had put over a dozen to the fire just along their approach, with dozens more taking horrific levels of damage.

Like the Heroics or Priminae cruisers, however, the Imperial versions were ready and willing to just soak up damage and keep coming with a proverbial grin on their faces. The Empire made common use of this in their tactics, being willing to take whatever damage was required to put them where they needed to be in order to win the battle and carry the war.

It made them predictable, however, and Eric had been counting on it.

“I am unlocking Kardashev controls for this, and all adjacent regions within the network,” He announced, taking command of the local network as he glanced at the ranges and ran the math in his head. “All ships standby to go to full military power on weapons at my command.”

“Aye Admiral, all ships standing by.”

Eric designated targets to the Kardashev Network liberally, focusing more on eliminating the most damaged ones that seemed to remain combat capable. Any ships significantly lagging behind, or looking like they’d taken more than they could handle, he left be. Those could be dealt with later as needed, but any damaged ships that remained combat-ready… they had to go first.

“Kardashev Network… firing. All ships, go to full military power in T-Minus…” Eric paused, watching the time change. “Ten seconds.”

“Orders dispatched, Admiral.”

They’re not going to be spooked by this, but… with luck, it will lay the foundation.

*****

Chapter 44

Station Liberty

“I hope he knows what he’s doing,” Gracen said grimly as she watched the converging icons on the large screens.

Admiral Weston was in command of the front line of the battle. There was no way she was going to try and run the battle from several light seconds out, and that was where the fight would  be fought for the moment at least.

“He’s bringing them in close. He doesn’t have the firepower for that… this is insane,” General McCall said, voice and features ashen as he looked on. “Weston is insane. They should be fighting a war of maneuver!”

“The enemy already made that a moot point,” she snapped before getting a hold of her emotions. “They’re here because they know he can’t let Earth fall without putting up a defense. We’re the anvil, they’re the hammer. If he tries to get fancy, they’ll just come straight for us and start orbital bombardment.”

“That’s insanity. The planet, the people, they’re worth…”

“Nothing to a Xenophobe, General. They’re not worth a damned thing to a Xenophobe.” She cut him off. “Now, everyone, I suggest we watch and pray. When this is over, our part begins.”

*****

Saint Mary

“This can’t be real… this is insane…”

Burt was honestly trying not to moan or otherwise humiliate himself, but it wasn’t going as well as he might have privately imagined in the past.

Please just let me not completely destroy my image in front of my command crew, He pled as he took a breath and caught Caide’s eye.

“The Admiral is engaging in a holding action, Sir,” Captain Caide told him. “My military judgment is that it will not succeed. The numbers are too unbalanced. We need to go.”

“I’m arguing. Do we have everything?”

“Yes sir.”

“And our exit course?”

“That… is a problem,” Caide admitted. “The best fuel and time course uses the moon to sling ourselves out of Earth’s orbit toward the Jovian well. If we use the alternative paths… we don’t have the fuel to make it very far. We need the refuelers waiting for us at Jupiter, Sir.”

“And we can’t just go around?”

“Not with our current fuel load, Sir, no.”

“Show me the safest course.”

“On your screen, Sir.”

It didn’t take much more than a glance for him to recognize the problem.

“Captain!” Burt snapped. “This takes us right through the combat zone!”

“Skirts it to the Luna Lee, I would say, but yes sir, it does.”

Burt was beginning to wish that he’d taken the step of some of his more rash-minded fellows and left without certain critical supplies.

Too late for that now.

“Fine. Do it.” he said, before he could talk himself out of it. “I want the best speed we can manage, get us through that nightmare as quickly as possible.”

“Yes sir. You might want to get ready, things may get a little rough,” Caide said as he entered orders and new telemetry into the system in front of him. “We’ve not fully tested the whole system running at the edge like that.”

“Just… make it work, Captain. Forget about comfort, just make it work.”

“Yes sir.”

*****

Station Liberty

“Admiral, we have movement on the Saint Mary. Looks like they’re bugging out.”

Gracen snorted, “About time. Show me…”

She glanced over as the telemetry data was calculated and then populated to her system, showing the projected path of the ship as it began the long climb, first from Earth’s gravity, and then from the Sun’s. It only took a second for her to frown, “Are they flying into the combat zone?”

“Yes, Ma’am. We have their projected flight plans, as well as alternatives. Doesn’t look like they had a lot of choice. They need a tanker at Jupiter, and they need it without much room for negotiation if you understand me.”

Gracen closed her eyes. She did, in fact, understand him… she just didn’t believe the damned situation.

“The Empire parked themselves right in the Window, didn’t they?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Well… shit. Best let Admiral Weston know…. Can’t say he’ll be able to do much, but at least we can keep him from shooting them.”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

“Ma’am… we’ve got something on long range you may want to check out. FTL pulse just detected an arrival.”

“Show it.”

*****

Archangel Squadron, Gaia’s Revenge

Steph rubbed a hand along his gut, willing his organ to stop its literal bellyaching and allow him to focus.

“Status,” he asked, leaning back so he could twist a bit and look to where Milla was overseeing the scanners.

“Arrived, intact and on course,” She responded easily. “Signals coming in from Earth now. However, they’re still many hours out of date from this… Wait, I have Imperial signals. They’re here.”

“Shit,” Steph scowled.

He couldn’t say that he was surprised. The Empire was able to move fast when they wanted to, there was no doubt about that. Still, he’d been hoping to slip in before the Empire arrived, and have a chance to work out the best way to use his ships.

The gunboats the current generation Archangels were based on were potent combat units, to be sure, but against the sort of firepower the Empire was willing to bring into play… well, there were limits to skill and quality.

“It looks like Com… Sorry, Admiral Weston made it here first,” Milla said, showing a series of IFF icons lining up for what almost looked like an old-school Naval battle, one from long before his day. “They’re positioned to intercept the enemy just outside your Cislunar perimeter.”

“Reckless bastard. He can’t stop that force, he has to know it too…” Steph sighed, shaking his head.

“What do we do, boss?” Tyke asked uncertainly.

“I don’t know, but I do know I’m not sitting this fight out,” Steph said as he turned back into place and started pushing course data through the system.

“Steph…” Milla’s voice caused him to pause. “You have signal.”

Steph sighed, slumping, “Coding?”

“Confederation Administration.”

“Damn it. Put the Admiral through.”

*****

Liberty Station

“I swear to God, if that dumb piece of…” Gracen grumbled under her breath as she paced, waiting for the signal response over the FTL comm.

She was interrupted when the screen shifted, and a clear icon shifted to show that the connection was made and secure.

“Commander Michaels, this is Admiral Gracen.”

“We’re scanning your signal, Admiral. Five bars by five. We’re clear.”

“Good, we’ve detected your arrival, Commander. What are your intentions?” Gracen demanded.

“Still working on a plan, but we’re ready to provide support to the fleet…”

“Are you burned?” She asked, cutting him off.

There was a brief pause before he spoke again.

“Burned, Ma’am?”

“Your cover with the Empire, Commander,” Gracen stated firmly. “Is it intact, or not?”

“Uh, it’s intact, Ma’am.”

“Then you are to stay out of this system, Commander,” Gracen ordered. “Maintain your cover.”

“Ma’am! My cover doesn’t do much good if that fleet razes the damn planet, Admiral.”

Gracen glared at the screen, wanting dearly to be glaring at the speaker, but the bandwidth use was already atrocious.

“Commander, your ships don’t have the firepower to significantly affect this battle…”

“Admiral, the entire fleet currently holding them off doesn’t have the firepower by that standard, and you know it. My friend and mentor…”

“Would be the first to tell you to stay the hell out of this system,” Gracen countered hotly. “Commander Michaels, if any of us are to survive this… we need, we will need, people who can infiltrate the Empire. You and yours are worth far too much now, so this is my direct order to you. Withdraw from this system now. Do not return, no matter what happens here. If you are not contacted, then do what you must to preserve your people.”

“Admiral… I…”

Gracen sighed, “I understand, Commander. I would want the same. We don’t always get what we want. There are colony ships out there, Military outposts… more. Much more than I can tell you, Commander. They will all need you. Stay away.”

She closed the connection.

******

Archangel Squadron, Gaia’s Revenge

“Goddamn it!” Steph swore, planting a fist into the deckplate closest to him.

“Hey, take it, easy Boss. Hurting yourself isn’t going to help, and you’re not going to hurt the decking,” Tyke told him. “And you know she’s right. We couldn’t do anything down there.”

“We could take two of them out, apiece, at least,” Steph promised as he nursed his knuckles.

“Which is the same as taking out none of them,” Tyke said simply. “There’s nothing we can do down there.”

Steph angrily slashed his hand across, the gesture shifting to show Earth and her Moon through high zoom.

“By that logic, there’s nothing the Odysseus and the rest could do there either,” He snarled. “It’s a waste. It’s all a waste.”

“I know, kid. I know,” Tyke said quietly, stepping up behind him and dropping a large hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “War always is. You… uh, have any family?”

Steph shook his head, “None to speak of. Mom died a few years back, never knew dad. No siblings, just cousins I never see.”

“Well, that’s good. You brought my little girl with us, much to my ire,” Tyke snorted. “But now to my thanks… but we’re the lucky ones. We need to figure out what we’re going to do.”

“Do? We have our orders,” Steph said dourly.

“I mean do we watch? I don’t know whether it would be better or worse for morale,” Tyke admitted. “Either way… we need to have a plan for what happens… after. Otherwise, I don’t think anyone will be in any shape to make one later.”

Steph hit himself on the forehead, rubbing his palm across his face.

“We’ll take a vote,” he said. “I’m not running a democracy here, but there are decisions I don’t feel comfortable making for everyone. In the meantime, put us into Black Hole stealth… Milla?”

“I’m sending the order to the fleet,” Milla said, looking at him with concern. “Steph.”

“Good. Tell them… we need to talk; we’ll use the virtual network.”

“Of course.”

*****

Through the entire system, any eyes that could be trained to watch what was happening just out behind Earth’s moon… were. Everything from top-secret military systems all the way down to the lowest orders of civilian telescopes all became trained on a single position in the Sol system as two fleets bore down on one another.

All movement, in many places, stopped… some in awe, most in confusion as they tried to decipher what they were seeing, but all with an intensity born of the understanding of the stakes at hand.

With billions in the audience, the stage was set, the players already in motion…

And the ending about to be told.

*****

Chapter 45

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan gripped his station tightly as the ship rumbled under him.

The enemy attack had come more or less as expected, with the system defense platforms again opening up in conjunction, this time, with the enemy ships. he’d known, however, that they really had no alternative but to weather the blows while they worked to get closer.

I should have ended them the last time I was here, Jehan thought grimly as he looked into the augmented imagery that showed the absolute mess of weapons fire they were sailing through. The fleets were being absolutely hammered, with more damage being counted with each passing moment.

Had he known that the Empress would determine that invasion was paramount, he would have ended it back then and been done, damage to the Empire be damned. It could only be more costly now, given that the current level of resistance would have annihilated his entire previous fleet.

“Range to enemy closing, Fleet Commander, but we’re taking heavy damage and… the enemy… isn’t?”

Jehan didn’t blame the man for the concern, bordering on real fear, he heard. The enemy had, without question, improved their armor to a degree that even he found distressing. However, he’d read the Imperial analysis of the armor and knew its limits.

Somehow, they’d managed to surpass some of those limits, but the mechanism had to have limits of its own.

We just need to find it, Jehan thought grimly.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Gavin gritted his teeth as the ships rumbled ominously around him, the enemy fire having struck just about every single ship in the combined fleets by this point, and showing no signs of abating while their own fire was being turned away practically with contempt.

The fleets were riding through the storm of fire, following Fleet Commander Jehan’s orders more than his own at this point, but he wasn’t inclined to disagree. Getting close was about the only reasonable action aside from retreating, and he would not do that.

“Press forward! End the enemies of the Empire!”

*****

A cage of light that could only be seen through augmented visuals completely encased, and even perforated, the Imperial ships as they continued their dogged charge in through the barrage of fire from all sides. Ships fell out of the charge by the score, and many times they were spewing atmosphere and flames as they closed on their targets.

For all that, however, they didn’t hesitate as they charged into the ever-increasing fire, even though for many on board it was beginning to look like they might actually be in trouble.

Then… everything changed.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Enemy fleets are breaching our drone perimeter, Admiral.”

“Advise all captains to watch their armor settings,” Eric ordered. “But hold the line. There’s nothing behind us but Earth, and we didn’t come this far to give these bastards a walkthrough now.”

“Aye, sir! Sending advisement… The fleet is already reporting increased damage, Sir.”

Eric didn’t doubt that they were. With the enemy breaching the drone perimeter, the best defense his ships had was now rendered largely ineffective. Within one light-second, the enemy lasers could close the gap fast enough that his fleet’s armor wouldn’t have time to process the readings and adapt to the frequency.

We’ll have to rely on the best deflection settings. It’ll still give us an edge, but the cake walk ends now.

“Enemy vessels are continuing to close.”

“They want this in knife range,” Eric nodded. “They know they can’t take us if they give us room to move.”

He sighed, shaking his head.

“So be it,” Eric said finally, looking up as he opened up the fleet-wide coms. “Bayonets out, boys and girls. They’ve got blood in their eyes… let’s put it on the floor.”

The ships were acknowledging the transmission when another alert sounded, causing Eric to turn around, frustrated.

“What now?”

“Admiral Gracen on the line, Sir. She seems… well, it sounds urgent, Admiral.”

I don’t need whatever this is, Eric knew as he pinched the bridge of his nose, but he didn’t get a vote. “Put her through.”

“Aye.”

A screen flickered, just off to one side, and he looked over to see the Admiral’s face looking back at him. Eric was mildly surprised that she’d spared the bandwidth for video, but then again, they were basically back inside of Cis-Lunar space, so he doubted it mattered much.

“Admiral,” Eric nodded. “Bit busy here.”

“We can see that, Admiral,” Gracen said. “Just need to give you a heads up. You have civilians inbound.”

That caused him to double-take, and be glad he hadn’t been drinking.

“Pardon me? I must have misheard, because what I heard was crazy.”

Gracen snorted, “Crazy seems to be the word of the day. Civilian Ark ships were almost ready to launch when the attack started, but they don’t have enough fuel for any random course, Eric. They need the Highway, and you’re parked in it.”

Oh, fuck me.

The Solar Highway was a path through space that varied as the planets orbited, but in essence, it was defined by the most efficient path to climb out of the system, using planetary gravities to sling the far smaller starships up to higher orbit.

A Heroic class ship could easily just barrel its way uphill and replace the mass it cost with whatever, but without a singularity…

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Eric didn’t know what he was going to do about this, but he knew he had to work something out.

“Alright, I hear you,” he said. “No promises, but we’ll try to get them through.”

“Thank you,” Gracen said, hesitating as she looked to either side and reached out to hit a button that Eric couldn’t see. “Go encrypt.”

“Encrypted,” Eric answered as he turned on the the military grade encryptions on his end.

“Eric,” Gracen leaned into the camera, expression grim. “I know it’s a risk, but if the worst happens…”

“Yeah, they’re the seeds we sow,” Eric nodded. “I really will do what I can.”

“I know. Good luck.”

Eric nodded before the image went dead and straightened up for a moment, looking around, “Scanners up. We have civilian ships inbound, I want to know where and when they’ll be coming through. Make it happen. Yesterday.”

“Aye, sir!”

*****

Saint Mary

Joshua Caide had to admit, this was not a scenario he’d expected when he’d taken the job from Connors. Sailing what was, effectively in the situation at least, an unarmed vessel right into the teeth of multiple enemy fleets wasn’t just stupid… it was downright insane.

He’d spent long enough in the military, though, to know that insane didn’t mean wrong. It just meant that you’d fucked up somewhere along the line and now had no choice but to go with a Hail Mary play.

Guess the old man picked the right name for the ship, Caide thought with grim amusement.

They were climbing out of Earth’s orbit, about to catch the moon as it swept by.

The gravity generated by the moon’s mass would carry them along, speeding the ship up to the rate the moon traveled as they used it to sling themselves out into the system.

That much, at least, was no real problem.

The problem, of course, was waiting for them once they broke with the lunar gravity and headed out into interplanetary space.

Caide would pay good money, his entire paycheck, and then some, to know how the enemy would react to their approach.

Opening fire was a good bet, of course, but they were entangled in a pretty hefty firefight at the moment with the entire combined fleets of the Block, the Confederacy, and whatever ships they’d managed to get their alien allies to commit.

Might be enough to keep them from bothering with us much, maybe.

Not really a maybe he wanted to bet on, however, but it seemed he wasn’t going to have much choice.

“Approaching launch pivot, Captain. Point of no return.”

Caide nodded, “Thank you, son. Engage launch drives as we bear.”

“Yes sir.”

Hail Mary indeed.

*****

Burt Connors watched the proceedings from the Owners’ deck of the ship, not wanting to get in the way and having learned a long time ago that when you hired an expert… you’d best listen to them and let them handle the task you hired them for.

For all that, however, he was struck by how… unremarkable everything felt.

The ship was cruising along, he could feel the distant vibrations of the massive drives pushing it, but beyond that… nothing had changed as they reached the moon.

That… felt wrong, somehow.

Still, the tension was building, and that he could feel. It was in his chest, and if he hadn’t just been checked up and given a clean bill of health, he’d have been seriously concerned about his heart. As it was, Burt was really just worried about literally everything else.

Even with Weston’s warning, I honestly thought we’d have more time.

His ship was one of the largest and thus hardest to properly provision out of the various Ark ships that had been built and launched. Splitting some of his resources to help the others, even given that they paid him in turn, of course, may have been a mistake… that said, there really was nothing left to it but to see whether or not he was going to pay for it.

Or, how much I’ll pay.

Connors shot a wistful glance at a bottle of whisky that he’d set up to celebrate the departure, wondering if it would really be all that bad if he just got hammered and didn’t watch what was coming.

He didn’t reach for it, however.

If it was the end, he’d face it sober and awake.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Admiral, we have the civilian ships on scanners, coming out of the shadow of the moon.”

“Transponders?”

“Aye sir, three of them. Loudest squawk is coming from the leader and largest of the trio, reads out as the Saint Mary.”

Eric nodded, adjusting a few orders put into the system to firm up a point along the curve of their wall of battle. “Fine. Put them into the system, register them as civilian contacts… color code them green one through three.”

“Aye Sir. New ships have been redesignated as Greens One, Two, and Three. On-screen now.”

A glance showed the ships coming up from the rear of his fleet’s formation, the green standing out neatly against the mass of blue and red icons that filled the rest of the screen.

“Keep their course on my screen and updating,” Eric ordered. “I’ll handle them. I don’t want the captains getting distracted unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Aye, Admiral. On your screen.”

*****

Odysseus noted the minor change in the thoughts of the Admiral and focused on it briefly, just to make it his thoughts rather than a non-connected memory he’d have to think on to find later.

The appearance of the Civilian ships had an odd effect on him, the entity noted with curiosity. He felt an urge to protect them… and an urge to curse violently at them the entire time he was doing the first thing.

Curious combination.

He cast a look to one side, where he knew that the Boudicca was holding position as they fired furiously into the approaching enemy formation, and wondered what the younger entity felt at that moment.

The specter of death rode with them all, and he could feel his own mortality, Odysseus didn’t know what he really felt about that. The more he thought about it… well, he tried not to think about it.

Less confusing that way.

*****

Miram Heathe caught the alert concerning the Civilian ships, along with the order to leave them to the Admiral until further notice, and almost swore aloud.

Fucking idiots.

She didn’t know what the circumstances were that left Civilian ships flying into the middle of a fucking warzone, and she didn’t want to know either. When it was over, assuming anyone survived, she hoped someone’s head rolled for it but wasn’t putting much hope in either.

“Enemy ships pushing in on our quadrant, Captain.”

“Prime T-Cannons along the forward firing arc,” she ordered, tapping a couple of orders into her system. “Strategic loads.”

“Aye, Ma’am. Weapons loading.”

She spotted the bulge in the enemy formation, some of their ships getting ahead of the rest as they pushed close. Miram didn’t know if it was eagerness on the charging ship’s part, or possibly damage causing the others to lag behind, but it didn’t matter.

Gives us a clean target. That’s enough.

“Weapons loaded, Ma’am.”

“Fire on my command.”

“Aye, Ma’am. Weapons control to the CO. Safes are clear, loads are hot.”

The weapon control officer tipped his head briefly.

“Concur weapons hot, all safeties are off. Targets acquired, Ma’am.”

“Fire.”

*****

Chapter 46

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Fleet Commander, the enemy ships are taking damage!”

Jehan sneered, mostly to hide his relief that the intelligence had been correct.

“Of course,” he said as confidently as though he’d never held any doubts. “Their systems require time to adjust to our firing frequencies. In close, light is faster than their armor. We will finish them face to face and watch the enemy die… as it should be.”

Several of those in earshot noticeably perked up at those words, which didn’t surprise him in the slightest. The beating they’d taken to get in those close had not been good for morale. Despite it all, all the pain and suffering and sheer defiance these people had caused him and the Empire, though, Jehan had to admire this enemy… if only slightly.

They’d consistently fought far above their obvious grade, creating new nightmares, and turning old ones into something unrecognizable.

That, he supposed, was why they had to die.

Much longer and they could have taken the Empire down. Her Majesty’s wisdom knows no limits, it seems… while mine has been shown to be… lacking.

Leaving them the few years he had, when he’d been unwilling to end them due to the obvious cost… well, it had just increased the cost.

Her Majesty had seen what he’d wanted to ignore in his cowardice, and knew that hard decisions needed to be made.

Jehan had never felt prouder to serve the Empire than he did in that realization.

*****

The space between the two opposing fleets continued to shrink as an interlaced hell of beams created a lethal lattice that vaporized hardened armor and turned ships into burning wrecks in a few instants.

Despite the destruction, however, neither side offered any quarter… nor asked for it.

The Imperial ships doggedly closed the range now that they had the Terran fleet and Allies up against a target that they simply could not leave undefended, and for their part, the Terran ships seemed fully aware of the price they were being asked to pay and showed no hesitation in delivering payment.

Hundreds died every minute, and the battle was only just beginning to heat up.

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Gavin grinned through blood-filled eyes as he saw the damage begin piling on the enemy, finally. After so long, they were actually getting the mission done. He’d come closer than he wanted to admit to feeling doubt in Her Majesty’s orders when the enemy had been so resistant to everything he could bring to bear on them.

Now, with Fifth Fleet leading the charge… alongside, it had to be said, Third Fleet at Jehan’s orders… perhaps he had misjudged the man, though Gavin rather doubted it… they were actually seeing some results for their blood and sacrifice.

“Yes, now! Finish them, press the assault! End the defiance of the enemy in one final assault!” He roared to his crews over the fleet-wide, enthused by finally seeing results.

“Fleet Commander, we just regist-”

Gavin was still turning to look at the man who was speaking when the universe exploded around him.

*****

AEV Boudicca

“Antimatter charges delivered on target man.”

“So, I see,” Captain Hyatt said with grim satisfaction as she felt the surge in the emotions of the crew around her.

There was something darkly twisted about being as enthusiastic as they were about the deaths of thousands, but war was a strange beast at the best of times. She knew that, assuming she survived this, she’d likely have nightmares about what she’d just participated in.

Eventually.

But not tonight, Sandra thought as she leaned forward with bared teeth, letting her own emotions surge at the sight of dozens of enemy ships vanishing in that single attack.

It’s just a damn shame we can’t do it again anytime soon.

Antimatter was, without any exaggeration, the most expensive substance that humanity had ever discovered, created, or even heard of. The power it took to make a single antimatter warhead would keep a city in electricity for more than a year… and the Boudicca alone had just unleashed a dozen of the hellish little beasts.

Power had gotten a lot cheaper since the discovery of antimatter, it was true. Back then, in the late twentieth century or so, Antimatter would have cost sixty-two trillion dollars a gram… at a time when the entire planet’s GDP was just under a hundred trillion.

Even with the Heroics, the cost was very nearly incalculable, but at the moment, she had no problem calling it money well spent.

“Now, while they’re stunned, go to full military fire rate on the cannons with conventional payloads!”

“Aye, ma’am!”

The Boudicca was swiftly joined by every ship in the fleet firing their cannons at a rate of one shot every six and half seconds, serving up gigaton nuclear warheads in the place of the antimatter hor d’ouevers they’d just presented the enemy with.

Suck on that you fuckers.

*****

Boudicca twisted her head, eyes cast out into the black beyond the lights of her… ship? Body? Either, both, it didn’t matter.

The enemy was out there, well past the ability of human eyeballs to perceive, for the moment at least…. But they were charging closer despite the destruction the Fleet had rained down on them. She could see them, for a certain measure of seeing, looking both through the sensors of the ship itself as well as her own… feeling for the effect the ships had on the universe itself.

There were… so many of them.

She could feel the destroyed ships blinking out of existence, or fading quickly into the background noise, but they were so few compared to the swarm. Her mind was awhirl with the different reactions her crew was having at the moment.

Many were cheering, either out loud or in their minds, seeing the moment as a victory.

Boudicca supposed it was, but it was not the final victory many seemed to feel. Her captain knew differently. She was enthused, certainly, but the taste of her excitement had a sour tone to it. A fatalist flavor, or perhaps more a determination than an emotion.

The determination to end as many of the enemy as possible before they were dragged down.

It was a determination that Boudicca shared.

The entity reached out and plucked an arrow from the vacuum, nocking her bow as she leveled the weapon with an easy, practiced, action.

The bow snapped, a sound that reached only her ears since there weren’t nearly enough molecules trapped in the gravity of the ship itself to carry true sound, and the arrow flashed away into the night as she drew another and nocked it before the first was even close to landing.

If her crew was going to face this enemy, they would not do it alone.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Permission to engage the enemy, Admiral.”

Eric glanced over to see the young entity standing nearly to attention, clad in the modern version of his armor, complete with the ship patch on the shoulder. He nodded once in appreciation of the change of look, before giving the entity a piercing look.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you weren’t already,” Eric admitted as he made minor alterations to the order of battle, allowing some of his damaged ships to fall back and be covered by others while they worked on getting their systems back to full strength… or as close as they could manage.

The force of the enemy’s assault was quickly racking up damage across easily ninety percent of his force, albeit only around a tenth of those were critical at this point… but that was still more than enough to take a major bite out of the firepower Eric could bring to bear on the forces charging them.

“I was about to,” Odysseus admitted. “However, it seemed like something I should clear with the officer in charge.”

“In most cases, I would agree entirely,” Eric smiled easily, surprising himself just how easy in fact as he considered the situation. “However, I authorized all weapons clear. If you’ve got it packing, go let the enemy feel its bite.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Odysseus said, practically gleefully.

Eric chuckled softly as the young entity  vanished, heading… outside, he supposed, in order to do just what he’d asked.

I wonder, was I ever like that? I can’t remember, Eric thought, amused. Steph… well, Steph is still like that sometimes.

Eric felt a wash of nostalgia tinged with sorrow as he thought of his young protégé turned… quite possibly the best friend he’d ever known. He didn’t know where the young man was, but he was glad that he wasn’t here.

“That is so odd.”

Eric glanced over, shaken from his unproductive thoughts by the hushed tone. “What’s that?”

“Sorry, Admiral,” a young officer assigned to his staff said. “I just meant… well, Odysseus. I heard… I mean, is he truly going to use a bow and arrow against the enemy starships?”

Eric snorted, “Not one made of wood and sinew, or even composite fibers and resin, no. Odysseus forms his weapons from spacetime, don’t ask me to explain more. He only uses them as a bow because that’s what we expect, sailor. Everything he does is tinted by our perception of both the young entity we see here, and our understanding of his historical namesake.”

“So weird.”

Eric shrugged, turning back to the fight.

There was truth in the simple statement, no doubt. The situation was weird, nothing about it was anything other than weird… but he’d come to realize something.

Weird was good.

It made people pay attention. It made them think. They might not like the weird, but they couldn’t ignore it.

People ignore too much, and accept too much, just because it’s normal.

He’d rather have weird surrounding him than normal, even if it would be uncomfortable by definition.

Evil didn’t hide in the dark, it lived in the small towns and the suburbs… the planets where citizens of the Empire didn’t care what their military and government did, just so long as they could quietly live their lives with as little hassle as possible. Evil wasn’t the Empress who ordered genocide, nor the soldiers who carried it out… it was the people who just shrugged it off because they didn’t have the influence to do anything.

Evil wasn’t special, it wasn’t glorious, or spectacular.

Evil was banal.

It assured itself that it was good because it couldn’t be blamed for the bad things that happened.

Evil cloaked itself in comfort and familiarity, because that was where people allowed it to thrive.

*****

Saint Mary

Captain Caide tried valiantly to look anything but as tense as he was feeling.

He’d never commanded a starship into combat, of course. Few men or women had, even now. His experience had mostly been Blue Navy work, commanding a light cruiser through the tail end of the war before opting for his DD-214 and going home to the farm.

He’d only taken this job because it came with a guaranteed berth for his family, and his contacts still in the military were telling him things that he didn’t like the sound of.

That had all sounded good and everything before he was faced with charging his command… his unarmed command… right at the biggest battle he’d ever heard of, while every instinct in him was screaming to turn away… save the lives of himself, his crew… and yes, his entire family who were in their berths aboard the Mary.

Turning away wasn’t an option, however, not unless they wanted to go back to Earth.

“Sir, enemy forces are now within three light-seconds. We’re less than two light seconds to the back of the Home Fleet formation now.”

“Understood,” he said formally. “Drive status?”

“All systems nominal, sir. No signs of any issues detected.”

“Very good. Increase our acceleration another… five points.”

“Aye Sir. Power increasing by five percent of maximum.”

He could feel the whine change as it filtered through the deck, coming up through his feet and chair, the drives pushing just that slight bit harder. He didn’t want to blow out anything, of course, but they couldn’t risk anything other than the shortest possible passing contact with the two behemoths hammering away at one another.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Admiral… civilian ships have closed to within one lightsecond of our rearmost ships, increasing closing velocity.”

“They better,” Eric said grimly. “They don’t want to hang around this place any longer than they absolutely have to.”

“Aye Admiral.”

“Contact them, direct them to the prepared lanes,” Eric ordered. “I want them out and through as fast as possible, with minimal risk… to them, or us.”

“Aye. Contact out, message sent sir.” There was a heartbeat pause before the communications man nodded. “Receipt confirmed.”

“Good. Now pay attention to the enemy ahead,” Eric said firmly. “And not the fools behind. We have work to do.”

“Aye aye, Sir.”

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan gently rested his head on one hand, wincing as he felt a thick bump forming.

Of course, they would hold back some of those infernal munitions for just that moment. Should have seen that coming. He lamented the loss of several of his fleet, and far more of the others.

The losses thus far to the Imperial forces had been… shocking.

That was, of course, why they’d brought so many, however. To grind down the enemy, if that was what it took… and it did seem that that was exactly what it was going to take.

So be it.

“Fleet Commander?”

“What is it?” Jehan asked, a little sharper than he intended.

“New enemy contacts approaching.”

“Reinforcements?” jehan thought, wincing at the thought.

“Perhaps, however, they show no sign of intent to engage… Sir, I don’t understand what I’m seeing.”

“To my station,” Jehan ordered without hesitation. He did not want more surprises from this group.

“Yes, Fleet Commander,” the man said, sounding relieved.

Jehan ignored that, instead focusing on the scanner data as he examined the new contacts. They were laughably weak, by every standard metric the Empire used, but he was well aware that with this species that did not mean what it might normally be expected to.

Their course, however, was what truly made him pause. The ships in question were accelerating to bypass the Imperial fleets.

Flanking attempt? No… not nearly enough vessels… What are you doing?

Hesitating only briefly, Jehan reached over to open up a contact to a small handful of his ship commanders.

“I have a tasking for you.”

*****

Chapter 47

NACS Odysseus

“Admiral, we have a… situation.”

Eric turned, taking his attention off the fighting for a moment to catch the gesture directing his attention to another screen. It only took a moment for him to spot what the warning was about.

“Damn it.”

A half dozen Imperial cruisers were breaking off from the main group and heading straight for the civilian ships.

“Plot the intercept,” he ordered.

“Intercept point marked, sir. Grid Cube Thirteen Ninety-Four.”

That was going to put the interception too far from his forces to safely provide cover, leaving Eric with an unpalatable decision.

“Bellerophon, have a tasking for your group.”

Unpalatable didn’t mean hard, sometimes it just meant that you ate shit and smiled because that was what you had to do.

“Bell here,” Jason Roberts’s voice came back. “What’s the job?”

“We have civilian ships approaching fast. They should be on your proximity scanners now,” Eric said.

“I’ve been monitoring, yes sir.”

“Good. Enemy has tasked an interception for them, going to hit them at gride cube one three nine zero four. Turn them back or turn them to ash, dealer’s choice.”

“Understood, Wilco. Bell out.”

Eric shook his head briefly before getting back to the task at hand.

The literal last thing he needed at this point in time were civilian ships in the middle of his battle, but it seemed that the fates had something to say about his needs and they had a different mind.

Ironically, perhaps, if the fight were looking better then he’d be far angrier with them for the intrusion.

The Terran Fleet was down twenty of its forces, easily, at this point, however. He didn’t even want to think about the loss of lives at the moment. If he lived, though, Eric figured he’d spend a lot of nights drinking to the dead. If he didn’t, he’d drink with them.

Either way, I’m spending the rest of eternity plastered after this.

The Imperial forces had lost far more in raw terms, but as a percent of their fleet… not even half as much. It reminded him of an old joke, actually. He didn’t know how many of them it was going to take to burn his fleet down… but he knew how many they were going to use.

*****

Saint Mary

“Saint Mary, Bellerophon Command and Control.”

“Go for Saint Mary, Bellerophon,” Caide answered the comms.

“You’ve attracted the wrong kind of attention, hold course and speed while we sort out your little issue. Do not deviate, do not accelerate. We have your course bracketed and friendly fire isn’t, if you get my drift. Confirm receipt.”

“Receipt confirmed. Will hold course,” Caide said grimly. “No deviation. No acceleration.”

When you got orders from a ship that outgunned you a billion to one, you did what they told you to do… especially when they were trying to keep you alive.

Caide checked the scanners, “Do we have any idea where this unwanted attention is coming from?”

“Negative, boss, not yet anyway… but the scanners on this baby aren’t exactly military grade,” The technician at the scanner console answered. “We’re more kitted out for planetary surveys.”

“Understood. Keep a watch on it, but for the moment we’ll have to trust our benefactors, I suppose,” Caide said unhappily about the whole situation, not that there was much to be happy about.

“Yes Sir.”

*****

AEV Bellerophon

Roberts eyed the enemy squadron with irritation as it accelerated out of formation, breaking from the main force on its way to intercept the civilian ships that were trying to slip past the fighting.

He did not need this distraction at the moment, but orders were orders.

“Make sure the line knows we’re leaving,” he said. “I want the formation to tighten up behind us like we were never gone.”

“Aye, sir. Orders already gone out. The Priminae are moving to fill in the gap.”

Roberts nodded grimly.

The Prim had come a long way from when they’d encountered the people. They’d never been the cowards that many had tried to portray them as, he knew that up front, but they’d come to show that they could learn from mistakes and react to a changing universe.

He often wondered what it must have been like, literally thousands of years of peace.

Roberts hadn’t known peace… well, ever, in his life. He’d had peaceful moments, of course, but he never lost track of the fact that when he was relaxing, somewhere someone else was fighting. His nations, both the USA and the Confederacy that replaced it, had never been at peace his entire life.

The Priminae had managed something he would have sworn impossible until he met them, and Roberts honestly envied them the experience.

When times had changed for them, though, they learned quickly. Maybe not quickly enough, had they not gotten some last minute help from Eric and the Odyssey’s crew, but against the Drasin… well, he didn’t give Earth much in the way of a chance if they’d had to deal with the Drasin right out of the Black with no warning either.

Sometimes you just lose. Doesn’t matter if you’ve done everything you could, the universe doesn’t much care for fairness.

“Enemy ships’ vectors have been plotted, Captain.”

“Engage as she bears,” Roberts ordered. “Weapons free.”

“Aye skipper!”

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Interesting.”

“Pardon, Fleet Commander?” Jehan’s second-in-command looked over, confused.

“The enemy has dispatched a small squadron to intercept ours,” Jehan said mildly. “It seems that those ships are worth protecting. What do we have on them? Any more details from the scanners?”

“Not a great deal, Fleet Commander,” the man admitted. “The energy signature is nearly undetectable, of course, but we have seen that matters… little with these people.”

“Indeed. What else?”

“The vessels are rather large… they would almost be more likely to be cargo ships, except…”

Jehan raised an eyebrow, “Except?”

“The design makes so little sense to me that I hesitate to even guess,” the man admitted. “Look to these sections… why are they turning?”

Jehan examined the readings and instantly understood the confusion.

“You’ve not been assigned out to the far reaches much, have you?”

“No, Fleet Commander… why?”

“Those would be spin gravity habitats. Large ones… we’re not looking at cargo, these are crude people carriers,” Jehan said, confused for a moment before the realization broke. “Colonial Vessels. Oh, Void be Damned…”

He thought furiously, realizing what was happening in a flash of inspiration. The planet knew what was coming and they’d begun sending out colony ships.

Were these the first? Are there more? Her Majesty will not he pleased… Jehan thought, shaking his head. Calmly now. First, eliminate these ones, we’ll have to task hunter squadrons to look for others… this mission just got extended greatly.

Worse than greatly, he thought. Possibly eternally, depending on how things went.

“We must eliminate them,” Jehan said firmly. “Inform the fleets that we are breaking contact.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“They’re WHAT?”

Fleet Commander Gavin’s roaring voice echoed around the command deck of the ship as he raged in an unbelieving fury at the news.

“Third Fleet has signaled that they’re…”

“I heard you the first time,” Gavin snapped, cutting off the explanation without further wasting time. “Ignore them, press the assault. We have the enemy in our grasp, we will not let them go like that idiot already did once before.”

His people just set to their work, of course. He’d have been utterly shocked if they hadn’t, as he’d trained them well. That left him there, stewing in his command station, wondering at the utter idiocy of his counterpart in the third fleet.

Of all the utterly stupid… we would hunt them down later at our leisure, splitting our forces now makes no damn sense.

Unfortunately, Imperial Command ranks gave him effectively no control over the actions of the other Fleet Commanders, aside from mutual respect or fear… neither of which seemed to hold any sway over Jehan’s actions.

When this is over, Jehan… a reckoning.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Admiral! Problem!”

Eric closed his eyes briefly, but only briefly.

“What is it?”

“The better part of a fleet just broke from the main group, heading for the civilians.”

Shit.

“Where’s Roberts and the Bell?”

“En route, but they’re heavily outgunned now, Sir.”

“Understood.”

Eric was torn, and badly so. If he split his forces, well the outcome would reach a lot sooner than otherwise and that was bad. If he didn’t… the Colony ships would be roasted… and the inevitable would almost certainly STILL take his ships.

No win situation. Eric hated it, but saw no way around it. He still had one trump card, but it depended on factors that he couldn’t control and were already moving away from where he needed them.

“Damn it,” he snapped, fist clenched. “Fine. This is how they want to play things, screw them and screw the damn situation.”

He opened up the fleet wide, “All ships, be advised, the enemy is targeting colony ships. Cover their escape at all costs.”

Eric rose up, walking across the deck, “Get me Grace on the line, and bring me the authorization codes for Prometheus.”

“Yes sir!”

*****

Chapter 48

Station Liberty

“Ma’am, Admiral Weston for you.”

“Put it through to the war room,” Gracen ordered without looking around.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

She was at the head of the table, surrounded by various flag officers from both the Confederacy’s military as well as their Allies and even some reps from the Bloc. Everyone present, regardless of rank, instantly turned to the main screen and waited with rapt attention.

It didn’t take long.

Admiral Weston appeared a moment later, looking off to one side as he accepted something from an aide.

“Thank you,” he said before turning back to the camera. “Admiral… Admirals, Generals, and any ranks I’m missing. Greets from the front, as it were.”

“Call them returned, Admiral Weston,” Gracen said with a whisp of a smile. “I assume you have something to tell us?”

He nodded grimly. “I regret to inform you that I do not believe my position to be tenable. The Empire will overrun our position, the only issue now is how long it will take.”

That set off some murmurs, a few even sounded surprised. Grace wondered idly which of her fellows had been so foolish as to not see that coming by this point, but had more important things to deal with at the moment.

“I understand,” she said gravely. “Thank you for your report. What are your intentions?”

“My fleet will cover the civilian escape to the best of our ability, then we will give a final accounting of ourselves, if necessary,” he said firmly. “I will make use of the Prometheus weapon as best I can, however, the conditions needed to employ it against ships are rather… specific.”

Gracen nodded, knowing that was true. Prometheus needed very specific targeting data, and ships were both small and fast movers, making them difficult to precisely target. If they moved even slightly between when you authorized the strike and when it finally arrived, which could take the better part of a minute, it was a wasted effort.

The last time, Eric had gotten the enemy commander into a conversation, held him in place with words.

This time… they didn’t seem to be talking.

“I understand….” she hesitated, grimacing at what she was about to say. “Admiral…”

“Ma’am?”

“If you cannot hold the line or turn them back with Prometheus… We can’t ask you to sacrifice everything for a lost cause. After employing Prometheus, if the Empire still has the will and the means to continue,” she took a breath, looking directly at the camera instead of the screen. “You are then ordered to withdraw.”

That got another round of shocked exclamations, some rather nasty expletives, among other things that were best left ignored… so she did just that. They’d all been briefed on the likelihood of what would happen if the Fleet was unable to hold the Empire off.

Eric, to his credit, looked shocked by the order.

“Ma’am…”

“There’s no value in everyone dying if the outcome is the same in either case,” she said softly. “You have your orders.”

He laughed sourly. “Ma’am… no offense, but what are going to do if I disobey?”

Before she could answer that he cut the signal off, leaving her huffing.

“Smartass bastard,” Gracen swore. “I swear, whoever thought it was a good idea to put a marine in charge of system defense… oh wait, it was me. Fuck.”

She couldn’t help it, slumping back in her seat and chuckling somewhat hysterically. The situation was so far beyond her worst nightmares that it had looped around to being funny, somehow.

The moment passed, though, and she straightened herself up and looked around the table.

“You all heard Admiral Weston; we have to accept that he’s probably right. Where do we stand on home defense?”

A junior Admiral sighed deeply. “Orbital weaponry from the war have been turned around, but they’re old and mostly non-mobile. We’ll likely do some damage to anything in their firing arc, but…”

“Ours as well,” A Block officer said tiredly. “With the same caveats. Even combined, we are unlikely to have enough to properly deter this threat.”

“If they make a landing,” A Marine three-star growled out. “We’ll be ready to tear them a new one… do we think they will?”

That was the question they all had in mind, of course. Tactically the easiest solution to the problem on Earth was, of course, just drop rocks on it. Big rocks, from way, way, up.

“We don’t know, it depends on what their orders are,” Gracen admitted.

“So… that’s it then?” Commandant Hiro Invern said, sounding more pissed off than anything.

She didn’t blame the four-star marine, despite her earlier break with humor, the rage in her was a deep-welling one as well. The last nightmare of any military commander wasn’t fighting their last stand… it was the sacrifice being wasted.

“Not… quite,” Gracen said darkly. “There is… one thing left.”

*****

NACS Odysseus

“All ships, new tasking.” Eric called. “Priority is now to cover the retreat of the civilian ships. Priminae vessels, I would formally request that you escort our civilian vessels out of the system. My fleet will cover the action.”

The leader of the Priminae ships still remaining looked hesitant before he nodded over the screen, “I understand. We would be… honored.”

“Thank you. Everyone else, the civilians are now the priority,” Eric said firmly. “But our secondary goal will be to get the enemy to slow down. That’s going to mean getting them in close, and keeping them there.”

“Admiral,” Sandra looked up from where she was managing the fight from the Boudicca. “That will mean taking a beating.”

“I know,” Eric nodded. “If we succeed, however, I can call down the fire of the gods and scorch the bastards. The more we can get into that cone, the better our… and Earth’s… chances will be. So, unless someone has another suggestion…?”

He let that hang as long as he dared, hoping someone else did have an idea that would trump his plan, but finally had to just nod.

“Ok, everyone knows your jobs. First task, we need to break from the current engagement, get the bulk of the fleet following us while we keep the second group off the civilians’ ass. Clear?”

No one said anything, so he took that as agreement.

“Good. Get to work,” He smiled. “And it’s been my honor.”

The signal flicked off, faces of his fleet Captains vanishing as the strategic scans replaced them.

“Captain Heath… you know what to do. Make it happen,” he ordered through the ship’s comm.

“Aye Admiral. We have this.”

“Not a doubt, Captain. Not one single doubt.”

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“Fleet Commander… the enemy… I believe, yes… they’re certainly breaking contact, withdrawing from the engagement.”

“What?” Gavin rose up, acrid smoke from the damage to his ship wafting around as his movement pushed the air and smoke with it.

He’d not taken the enemy for the sort to flee with their backs to their own world.

“A few of their number are holding position, keeping our forces back as the rest have changed course. Fleet Commander, they’ve engaged a course that will take them into direct engagement with the Third Fleet.”

Third… Jehan, you bastard. What did you know that you didn’t share?

“Push through the defenders, I want our forces and Third Fleet’s to pincer the enemy between us!”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

*****

AEV Hood

“Give me a damage report,” Captain Wood ordered as he stepped over some of the debris that had broken free after one of the enemy strikes kicked off a chain reaction… somewhere on board. No one seemed to know where exactly, probably because they’d lost a sizeable chunk of their damage control teams at the same time.

“Limited intel, Sir, but looks like the core is holding… just. More than that,” His XO shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Weapons?”

“Fully functional, or close enough.”

“Good enough,” Wood said as he kicked a piece of junk out of his way and leaned over the weapon’s control officer who was slumped at his station. “You ok, son?”

“I’ll live,” The Lieutenant said as he pushed off the console and shook his head clear. “Sorry for sleeping on the job.”

Wood grinned at the young man. “No problem. Been a bit of a snooze the last little while anyway. Why don’t you try to liven things up for our guests, alright?”

“You’ve got it, Sir,” The lieutenant said, getting back on his guns.

Wood clapped him on the back and moved over to the Helm next.

The Helm was, as it was on all Heroic class vessels, sunken into a pit where the pilot could be connected directly to the ship for enhanced maneuvering. Wood grimaced as he dropped down into the pit and reached across the young woman in the seat, checking her pulse.

“Shit.”

He looked up to where his XO was watching, shaking his head slightly. The other man closed his eyes briefly, but nodded as he came over. Between the two of them, they managed to pull the body of Ensign Dupree from the pit, laying her out on the deck.

“I’ll take her,” Wood said, dropping into the seat as he picked up the cybernetic control circuits and tossed them aside. He wasn’t compatible with the system, but he didn’t expect to need a lot of maneuvering precision anyway.

“You have the con, Sir.”

“Give me an audible readout of range to the enemy front line, in kilometers.” Wood ordered as he checked the systems and fired up the maneuvering thrusters.

Don’t want them to see us coming until it’s too late.

“Leading edge of the enemy formation, one hundred and eighty thousand kilometers and closing, Captain.”

“Engaging full CM, thrusters… Engineering, give me full military power on thrusters,” Wood ordered. “Or hell, more if you can cut it.”

The communications signal from Engineering crackled a bit as the chief responded.

“I can give you more, but it won’t last long.”

“I need a few seconds.”

“I can give you fifteen. Anything more, ask God.”

“I’ll take it, thanks Chief.”

“Ray,” Wood said softly as he got to work.

“Sir?” His XO answered.

“Signal evacuation alert, if anyone wants to take their chances… well, who am I to stop them?”

“Yes sir,” Ray Hardesty nodded, turning to call out the order. “Abandon ship!”

The alarms started wailing as Richard Wood took control of his beast of a ship, fighting the controls a bit without the cybernetic enhancements that allowed them to be handled like a small, nimble, craft.

“Range to enemy, one hundred thousand klicks!” his scanner officer called as another hit shook the vessel, air explosively erupting from the breached section of the hull, pushing the ship around just a bit.

“Thruster controls are sluggish,” Wood said, “I need them in a little closer. Give me a countdown to Fifty thou.”

“Aye skipper. Ninety thousand and closing.”

The whining click of laser capacitors discharging could be heard through the decks. Every weapon on the big ship that could be fired was still putting death into the black.

“The least damaged members of the fleet have broken contact, sir, plan is running as written.”

“We were owed something going right,” Wood answered.

“Seventy thousand and closing!”

“Is anyone left down there?” Wood called over the link to engineering.

“Full house, skipper. We figured we may as well ride this one out.”

Wood ducked his head briefly, but smiled through the emotion.

“Thank you.”

“What do you need?”

“A stable core…”

“Stable, sir?”

“Very stable.”

“Understood. I, uh… I think we can feed it some more mass, and drop the diameter of the fields. It’ll hold… a few hours at least.”

“That’s more than enough.”

“Fifty thousand kilometers to the enemy line!”

Wood reached forward and flipped a switch, “Thrusters to full. All hands… I’d say brace for impact, but I doubt we’ll feel this. It’s been fun.”

He hit the thruster, mashed them full on, then began fighting the haptic respond as the ship fought against the sudden motion as they surged forward.

With less than fifty thousand kilometers to cross, the Hood’s counter mass field cranked up as high as it would go, and the thrusters literally melting under the output, the enemy didn’t have a hope in hell of reacting as the Hood charged right into their midst.

*****

Chapter 49

NACS Odysseus

“Godspeed,” Eric said softly as he watched the Hood make its last reckless run into the enemy line.

The big ship took a hell of a beating as the enemy tried to end it before it could get where it was going, but a ship that size? Nothing was stopping it once it got moving, not in the time they had, at least. The Hood slammed into one of the lead ships, and Eric could see the hulls of both being crumpled like foil as the pair of singularities were abruptly fed the very ships they’d powered.

Three more Imperial ships were sucked in before the rest could get clear of the gravity storm, but the Imperial line didn’t pause significantly in their charge.

Another three of the damaged Heroics who had volunteered to take up the rear guard went down in fire as the Imperial ships got really serious about taking them out at range. Eric couldn’t exactly blame them, but it was a pity just the same.

He had his own mission, now though, and it lay just ahead.

The Saint Mary was looming in the distance, flanked already by the Bell and the Crockett, more ships moving into covering positions to keep the Imperial task group at bay.

Take that group out and the Mary should be able to get enough of a lead to meet with refueling and get the hell out of Sol before the rest can catch her. We can buy her that time.

At least they could accomplish something for their sacrifice.

“The enemy squadron is closing on the civilians, sir. The Crocket and Bell are taking a hell of a beating.”

“I see it,” Eric confirmed. “I want our surviving forces to cover them all. They need some shade, let’s put up an umbrella.”

*****

Miram held on tight to the edge of her console as the ship shuddered again, another beam breaching the hull.

“We’re venting from Deck eight, Ma’am.”

“Ignore it, it’ll go away in a minute,” she said sardonically, knowing that it would stop as soon as the closed-off deck had completely evacuated its atmosphere.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

I just hope everyone who can gets out of there before the seals are locked in.

The interior of the ship was designed with airlocks, specifically for such an event, but there would inevitably be people caught in places where they couldn’t get to one. For them, well the best thing that could be said was that it wouldn’t be a long time before the end came, cold a comfort as that might be.

The Admiral wanted the civilians covered, and that was what they would do, however, so she ordered the ship forward and gritted her teeth against the damage and loss of life.

There was more of both coming, after all.

*****

Close enough to actually see the enemy.

That was not something that happened often, Odysseus knew, not in space combat, but he could see the light off the enemy ships visually now… and they were getting brighter.

He nocked another arrow, loosing almost instantly as he noted that he could feel Boudicca doing the same across even the distance between them at the moment. The distortion of space-time was easily noticed, it seemed.

Their combined efforts had been ongoing for most of the battle, but Odysseus couldn’t tell if it even mattered. He just knew that, regardless, he had to continue. Anything less would be… it would be something he would not allow of himself.

The twisted bit of spacetime in tension lanced out, and this time it was close enough that he felt the distinct snap as it triggered. Odysseus thought, perhaps, he saw something change about the ship he’d hit but it was impossible to be sure and not the time to experiment.

So, he nocked another and loosed, falling into a rote pattern with each motion.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan swore under his breath as his ship shook under him again. He doubted that they had a single undamaged ship in the fleet by this point, though it was clear that the enemy was in far worse shape so he supposed there was that.

“Enemy fleet has moved to intercept, Fleet Commander!”

They are determined to allow these ships a chance to escape… Jehan thought with grim satisfaction. It told him that he was right, they were sending out colony ships… or, if not, something else of equal value.

They must be stopped.

“Press forward! All weapons, target the new vessels!”

“Yes, Fleet Commander!”

*****

NACS Odysseus

“They’re not backing off, Ma’am!”

“I see it,” Miram confirmed.  “What are our munition stores looking like?”

Her weapons officer laughed, something she would normally have corrected him for, but the laugh held more than a hint of the hysterical and she did not have time to replace him if she triggered a collapse.

“Less than ten percent on the T-Cannons, and the core isn’t far better. Ma’am, I’ve never seen us go through power like this.”

“We’re about to go through it faster,” she said grimly. “I want every cannon fired dry, and if the core hasn’t collapsed yet, we’re not firing fast enough on beams.”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

*****

Eric glared at the screens, one hand over the controls that linked to the Prometheus Facility, as he tried… hoped… to find an opening to make the most use of them.

The enemy behind them were charging hard, while the squadron they were flanking was doing no less. Neither group was either slow enough, or predictable enough, for him to unleash the fiery hell resting under his hand.

Just need one opening. Just one.

It was clear, however, that if he wanted it… he was going to have to make it.

“Give me an open comm,” Eric said out of the blue.

“Sir?”

“Open comm. I want to talk to them.”

“Yes sir. Open comm on your panel, Admiral.”

Eric nodded, seeing the icon appear. He considered briefly, but finally nodded and opened the channel.

“Well, here we are again,” he said, speaking perhaps to no one. “Last time you Imperial Vultures showed up, I warned you about the consequences of continuing. Just couldn’t leave it be, could you?”

There was no response, but of course, he’d not really expected one.

“If you learned your lesson, well you’d know what was coming. Which of your worlds should I burn to cinders, I wonder?” Eric wondered aloud as he looked through the database. “This one has promise… Kraike is it? I’d make an SPF nine thousand joke, but you wouldn’t get it…”

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Fleet Commander…”

“Ignore him.”

Jehan could feel his nails eating into his palms, but there was no way he’d give the enemy commander the satisfaction of responding. There was nothing he could do to stop the attack if the man wasn’t bluffing, so what was the point?

“Yes, Commander.”

They were pushing the assault, running the ship into the teeth of the enemy beams, but the results were less than he might hope with the enemy warships inserting themselves into the path and taking strikes for the actual targets.

The more they did that, though, the more certain he was that he had the right of the situation.

And there was no chance that he was going to let that enemy Commander talk him around in circles again.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Nothing, sir. No response.”

Eric nodded.

“It was a long shot anyway,” he said, fingers idly running over the console that would link him directly to Prometheus.

He could order the facility to fire on the planet, of course, but without a Rogue in position to video it and send the footage back it would serve no strategic value at the moment. His concern was the battle and its immediate outcome, strategic decisions beyond that, well Eric would leave those to others.

He had to get their attention… somehow.

I just don’t know… I know what to do, Eric admitted to himself as he planted both hands on the console in front of him and leaned over it as he tried to collect his thoughts.

There had to be a way.

Just need to find it. On a time limit. Easy.

*****

Saint Mary

Burt Connors was trying not to pace, and mostly failing, as he watched the intercepts and telemetry feeds from his position on the Owners’ Deck. He knew that getting involved was a recipe for disaster, but this wasn’t a position he was used to being in.

Micromanaging never ended well, if you hired good people, you let them do their job. If you didn’t hire good people, you were a fucking idiot. Those were words he’d tried to live by, but at the same time he was used to being hands-on, at least at the start of a new operation.

This one, though?

What have I gotten myself and my people into?

*****

“We have cruisers flanking us, sir!”

“I see them,” Caide responded. “Don’t bitch. They’re taking hits that would cut us in half. Stay on course, don’t fuck around.”

“Yes sir.”

The tension on the bridge couldn’t be cut with a knife. You’d need at least a chainsaw, Caide figured as he clenched his chair arms, hoping that no one noticed the bone-white knuckles. If anyone did, well at least they were professional enough not to comment, he supposed.

“Transmission from the cruiser!”

“Put it up.”

“Yes sir.”

“Saint Mary, Bellerophon.”

“Go for Saint Mary, Bell,” Caide answered easily, finding comfort in the familiar.

“We have you covered to exfil, and our Priminae friends will stay with you the whole way out-system,” the deep voice speaking from the Bell told him. “Stay on the throttle, and make sure that your tanker knows that it’s going to be a hot replenishment. We’ll buy you what we can, but I wouldn’t stay around any longer than you have to.”

“Way ahead of you there, Bell,” Caide affirmed. “We have tankers lined up and already moving to match course. Taking fuel, supplies, and their crews in one go.”

“Roger that. Godspeed, Mary, and good luck in the Black.”

The signal was cut off before he could say anything more.

“The cruiser is pulling away, sir, reversing course. They’re heading back at the enemy ships!”

“Doing their duty,” Caide said. “Let’s do ours. Engineering, if you’ve got anything more to give, I want it.”

“I’ll find a few more points on the reactors, Sir.”

*****

AEV Bellerophon

Jason Roberts set himself in the seat, eyes on the tactical displays as they began to change course.

“All points, Bellerophon is re-engaging.” he said. “Tactical, munitions report.”

“We’re low on mass, almost out of nukes, but the Tokamok has fired us up another couple of antimatter charges, Sir.”

“That’ll have to do,” Roberts nodded. “Load the charges, I want my fireworks.”

“Aye skipper. Two loads of extreme fireworks, coming right up.”

Roberts smiled thinly as he looked over the approaching ships. “Designating targets now… Bandits Alpha and Beta to your systems.”

“Roger Bandits Alpha and Beta. Targets locked in, T-Cannons loaded and charged.”

“Fire.”

*****

Chapter 50

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

Jehan swore as two more of his ships erupted in white flame, a signature he recognized as the enemy’s antimatter charges reacted with the matter of the hulls.

Damn those nightmare weapons to the abyss.

The Empire would have been nearly helpless if not for the fact that the production of those munitions appeared to be extremely difficult, and they were clearly in low supply as a consequence. Almost nothing seemed to even offer the slightest of protections from them and despite it being discussed at the highest levels of the Imperial Intelligence Directorate, no one seemed to have any ideas of what might.

When this is over, the Empire would do well to make use of similar technology, Jehan thought grimly.

Certainly, under most circumstances, such weaponry was not merely overkill but almost certainly contraindicated. Destroying infrastructure that you might want to use after the war was just a waste, of course. However, as this enemy had proven out, when the situation warranted it… it was a formidable weapon to have at one’s disposal.

“Enemy vessels are moving to intercept, Fleet Commander.”

“I see them, focus fire. I do not want a repeat of what just happened to Fifth Fleet,” Jehan ordered firmly.

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

Jehan shook his head. The enemy was becoming desperate, and that meant that this was when the true danger began. He didn’t even want to think about the ships that had been caught in the impact when the enemy had pulled that suicide run on Fifth Fleet.

Dying in combat, that was one thing… but…

You didn’t mess around with a singularity. Every man and woman who served on a ship knew that like they knew their own name. There were many reasons why shipboard singularities were kept right on the very edge of being stable. The big one, of course, was the make capturing the energy they radiated more efficient. A stable singularity still created and put out power, but not nearly as much as nothing could escape the event horizon.

The other reason?

Dying for eternity, trapped in the slowdown of time within the gravitational warp… that was no way to go.

No damn way at all.

*****

NACS Odysseus

“Push the assault! Keep them pinned down here,” Miram ordered as the Odysseus weapons continued to fire, providing support as they joined the Bell and the remnants of that squadron in the attack run.

The Imperial ships were still doggedly pushing forward, but a pair of antimatter blasts took the wind from their sails, while the Odysseus and Boudicca charged in to finish the job.

Unfortunately, the Imperial response was swift as they turned and opened fire with a fury that quickly struck the cruisers with no mercy. The ship shook around her, and damage reports were coming in from all sides, but until the civilians were clear… they were not deviating from their course.

“Ma’am, the rest of the enemy ships are closing fast from the rear. We’re about to be caught in a pincer!”

“Screw them, we have a job to finish. Nothing else matters.”

*****

Eric ran the numbers, the third time in fact. The odds weren’t great, but it was time to take a chance, he supposed.

“Prometheus facility,” he transmitted. “Have a tasking.”

“Prometheus confirms,” the robotic sounding voice responded, it being less bandwidth to send text and convert to voice than to compress and send voice, “Please supply coordinates.”

Eric entered the coordinates, carefully taking into account the vector to the location of Prometheus. Unfortunately, the alien facility was off-angle from the system plane, which made the need for precision even higher. If the facility had been located directly in front, or behind, the enemy ships as they flew along the system plane, it would actually eliminate an entire axis of consideration.

That wasn’t the case, however, so he would have to take his chances.

Enemy movement rate, adjust for delays between us and Prometheus… anticipate their location…

“Coordinates sent, vector the shot as directed. Fire support requested, ASAP.”

“Confirmed. Shot out.”

Eric looked instantly over to the scanners as the ship’s systems began screaming about the sudden surge of Tachyons in the region.

Please let this work…

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Fleet Commander Gavin was nearing the end of his patience.

The losses this mission had inflicted on his fleet were already more than the last ten assignments from Her Majesty… combined… and they weren’t even done, not by a long shot.

He was struggling to keep the bubbling fury under control. One didn’t get a Fleet Command assigned by being the sort to lose their temper… at least not when it would be a detriment to the mission. First, he’d finish this job, then he’d show the inhabitants of the target world why they’d have been better off not angering him.

“Fleet Commander! Spike in FTL particles!”

Gavin surged to his feet. “Localize it! Do they have reinforcements coming?”

“Sir, you don’t understand… the particles are right on top of our position!”

Gavin turned to the scanners. “Find the source! Put it on screen…”

The screens flickered, then showed nothing but empty space a moment later. Gavin and his command crew stared for a moment, wondering if there hadn’t been some mistake, but before he could ask just that… the scene changed.

Visual scanners flared bright white for a brief moment before they cut out, emergency systems cutting them off before they could be burned out. Shields snapped closed around them as he started seeing the hulls of several of his remaining vessels spike on the thermal scans.

“What in the Abyss…”

A pillar of flame scorched across his ships, lighting them like tinder in a dry year under a lightning strike, and leaving him gaping as his mind filled in what he was seeing from the reports.

Their superweapon… finally, they bring it out. But… why now?

The pillar scorched along the flank of his formation, missing the bulk of his surviving ships, thanks to the Empress for that he supposed, but those that were touched… died in fire.

The shock of it took a moment to settle in.

“Fleet Commander… the enemy is transmitting again.”

“Let me hear them.”

*****

NACS Odysseus

Well, that got their attention.

The shot from Prometheus had just grazed the target, but the results had still scorched half a dozen cruisers. Eric doubted any of the ones that completely burned out would make it out of Sol, which was just fine by him. More company for their fellows. The dead here would have a lot of company.

He keyed in an open channel again.

“You can still back off,” he said firmly. “You have no idea what’s coming for you, or your Empire, if you push us to the wall.”

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

Gavin sneered, “Impudent bastard. Link me to that frequency.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

With the frequency open, laughed darkly and leaned forward. “The dead hold no threats, abomination.”

There was a brief pause.

“Never met a rattler, have you?” The voice responded. “I give you my word, Imperial… Attack my world… and you will believe in ghosts.”

Gavin snarled wordlessly, “You arrogant…”

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“What is that fool doing? Stop talking to them, they’re not to be taken lightly,” Jehan raged, frustrated by the exchange he was listening to.

His advance had been hammered to a standstill by the combined forces he was pincered between, and now his own backup was too busy talking to do their duty!

“Can we locate where that signal is coming from?” he demanded.

“Yes, Fleet Commander. This ship here.”

Jehan nodded slowly, “Fine. Focus everything we have, everything, on that ship. Shut him up.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

*****

NACS Odysseus

Eric was about to continue when the ship shuddered hard under him, forcing him to quickly cut off the signal and contact the bridge.

“Report!”

“Looks like you pissed them off, Sir,” Miram told him. We have the first squadron turned full on us. Good news is that they’re not chasing the Civies anymore, I guess…. Hold on… Return fire! Bracket that lead ship! Get damage control teams moving… Apologies Admiral, I uh… I don’t think we’re going too much farther.”

Eric grimaced, “I’m coming down.”

He killed the connection and waved his aides clear as he crossed and headed for the Bridge access. It was a short distance, mostly his Admiralty Deck was just to keep him out of the captain’s hair, after all.

Stepping onto the bridge, he immediately was struck by the chaos, but that came from running a tactical op all things considered.

“Welcome home, Admiral,” Miram said without looking in his direction. “Fitting place for us to be right now, I think.”

“It’s not over yet.”

She laughed. “That may be, but the fat lady has finished her warmups. We’re damaged, badly, and the enemy isn’t pulling any punches.”

Eric nodded, features grim. “Are the civilians away?”

“Yeah. We got that done.”

“Ok… I can work with this…” Eric said, thinking as quickly as he could.

“That’s good to hear, cause I don’t see a way out,” Miram countered quietly as they were shaken by another strike.

Eric crossed the deck, leaning over the engineering console and tapping a few commands, “Maybe not for the Odysseus, but her job is done. I have orders for you, Captain.”

Miram shot him a look, “Pardon?”

“Evacuate the ship. Contact the Boudicca or anyone else close enough, get your people… our people out of the system.”

“Have you lost your goddamn mind, Sir? The Earth…”

“Orders are straight from Gracen’s mouth,” he snapped. “We’re done. Get off my ship, Captain. I’ll take it from here.”

She stared in shock, rising to her feet.

“I’m not abandoning my command…”

“It’s my command, now. You are relieved,” Eric said coldly as he waved to a pair of nervous-looking marines. “Get the Captain into an escape pod, then strap yourselves in with her. Once you’re away, she’s in command again, clear?”

“Sir!”

Miram stared as she was flanked by the Marines.

“Ma’am… please, don’t fight this.”

She growled, “What are you going to do?”

“Save what’s left of my fleet,” Eric said tiredly as he crossed over to the recessed pit that housed the pilot’s and dropped down into it, merely a gesture was enough to send the current pilot scampering clear. “Go, Captain. Now.”

“Fuck,” She snapped but didn’t fight as the marines guided her and the rest off the bridge.

Eric opened up a console window and tapped in a quick command, triggering the abandon ship order.

“Odysseus.”

“Yes, Sir,” The Entity said immediately.

“I’m sorry,” Eric told him.

“I… understand.”

“I’ll need your help… to save them. As many as we can.”

“You will have it,” the young entity pledged.

Eric nodded as he connected the cybernetics, feeling the wash of the ship’s sensors flow over him. A few more gestures disabled the flow controls entirely, enabling bi-directional feeds.

“That is not recommended procedure, Admiral.”

“Fuck procedure, I need the sensation,” Eric said, gunning the drives as high as he could while he opened up comms. “Bo, Odysseus.”

“Go for Bo, Odysseus.”

“I’ve ordered an evacuation. Pick up my people… please.”

The voice changed, and instead of the Comms officer, he found himself speaking with Captain Hyatt.

“Admiral? What the hell…?”

“No time. You and Roberts are in charge, figure it out between you,” Eric said. “He has seniority, so I’d advise listening to the man. Get the rest of my people out of the system… The Priminae will take you, no question, but the colonies are an option too.”

“Sir… We’re not abandoning the Earth…”

“We’ve lost, Captain. Gracen’s orders are clear. Get the civilians out, then ourselves if we can’t stop the enemy. Do you think we can stop them?”

Nothing but silence followed that question.

“Thought so. You have your orders. Odysseus out.”

*****

Chapter 51

NACS Odysseus

As Eric sat in the pilot’s pit an odd sensation of relaxed contentment flowed through him, even as he felt the occasional bit of dust specs biting into the hull send a piercing sensation through him.

If he had to go out, this was where he wanted to be.

Not on the Admiralty Deck, and not even in the Command Chair. He was born a pilot, the Marines just let him be who he already was.

“Enemy have begun firing on escaping pods, Admiral.”

“Oh, hell no,” Eric snarled, slaving in the weapons controls to his station.

They wouldn’t last long, not with the crew servicing them gone, but until they broke, he could fire them much as he would have in his fighter back in the day. Automation for the win, he supposed, as much as he’d hated most of the new automated systems they’d forced on him back in the day.

Hands on the controls, cybernetics giving him as finer appreciation for the environment he was flying in, Eric eased the ship forward and interposed the bulk of the hull between the enemy and the escaping pods. Beam strikes picked up as the enemy realized that the ship was still active despite the pods launching, but for the moment he took the hits… wincing through the pain they fed right into his cerebral cortex through his spinal cord.

“We are now the primary focus,” Odysseus informed him blithely.

“Well, that’s the price I suppose,” Eric said as he pushed the throttle forward and caused the warp fields to twist and churn spacetime. He reached forward and opened up a communications channel with an idle motion as the ship lumbered up to speed.

It took a moment before there was a response.

“… Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Connors,” Eric said. “I’m informed that you should be in the clear.”

“Thanks to your people, yes.”

“If you want to thank them…” Eric said heavily. “Some may be looking for a place to go. I’d appreciate it if you took care of any who asked.”

“Admiral Weston… are…”

“No time to talk, really, just wanted to ask that favor,” Eric said as he worked the controls. “Good luck out there, in the Black.”

“I… of course, we’ll look after any who asks. Hell, I’d have hired any one of them a long time ago if they were available.”

“Good. I’ll see you on the other side sometime,” Eric said, cutting the channel as he focused on the flying.

Enemy beams were cutting into the ship’s armor, but he was letting his reflexes take over. It took a few fractions of a second, sometimes longer, for beams to cut through the durable ceramic armor and the camplate coatings that defended it… long enough for his nervous system to register the pain and for Eric to reflexively jerk away from the source of the burn.

He felt like he had second- and third-degree burns all over his body, only worse. His nerves weren’t damaged at all, so the pain didn’t deaden as it would with more severe burns. He gritted his teeth and ignored it all, focusing entirely on the target.

The closest squadron of Imperial ships was now entirely focused on him, their converging beams almost impossible to evade… but he wasn’t really trying for that. Just keeping the damage to a minimum as he got in closer, the big ship’s own beams returning fire with fury.

Ten thousand kilometers… five. Two. Less than one.

Eric wanted to get close, and he pushed the ship hard to do it. Flames and smoke spewed out across the sector of space as the enemy fire increased in fury… but began to decrease in accuracy.

Skirting the enemy ships, he blew past them as he put the big ship into a strafing turn, forcing them to try to engage him while he was moving perpendicular to their firing stations. At the speeds ships moved at, not even the best guidance system and gimble could keep up, which left only predictive systems.

Spoofing through wasn’t hard, any the Empire had would be based on Imperial records, and they’d never see Raziel fly.

*****

Imperial Third Fleet Flagship

“Burn him down! What are you doing? Hit him!”

“We’re trying, Fleet Commander, but they’re so close and so fast! We barely get a beam targeting it and the ship rolls away. It’s like they can read our minds, Fleet Commander.”

Jehan swore, leaning over the weapons officer’s station and staring at the screen.

He’d never seen a ship as large as that move in the way he was seeing. His ship’s systems couldn’t even begin to track it, and the people manning the systems were at a loss.

“Converge more fire on him, we cannot allow this to continue. Burn him down, one way or the other.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

*****

Imperial Fifth Fleet Flagship

“The enemy fleet is broken, Sir. They’re fleeing the system.”

Gavin nodded wearily, “We will hunt them down in time.”

“Third Fleet is still being harassed by a single vessel…”

“One ship?” Gavin snorted. “They can deal with it. Set our course for the inhabited world.”

“Yes, Fleet Commander.”

*****

Station Liberty

“My God. How is he…?”

Gracen shook her head. “That is what you get when you put the finest pilot we ever trained into a ship that can basically read his mind, and then set them loose on the enemy. Pity we didn’t do it earlier.”

So many mistakes were made, based on bad assumptions. If they’d known what they knew now, back before it all started, Gracen wondered if they’d have even sent out the Odyssey in the first place.

Certainly, would have done things differently.

“NICS qualified candidates have always been difficult to find and train…”

“That’s not an excuse to cancel the program,” she snapped. “We wouldn’t have had thousands, maybe not even hundreds… but dozens? Yes. We could have had that…”

She sighed, shaking her head.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s done.” Gracen said as she stood up and walked over to the central computer. “Now there’s just one thing left.”

“What are you doing?” Admiral Jackson asked, rising to his feet.

“Deactivating the Kardeshev Net,” she said.

“What? Why!?” The Admiral crossed the room in shock, everyone else in the room bolting upright, “That’s our only remaining defense!”

“It won’t hold.”

“It will still do something!”

The system diagnostics went dark in a rippling wave that began to cascade out from the Station, quickly covering cis-lunar space and then continuing out beyond. It would take hours for the command to fully be implemented, but there was no stopping it.

“What have you done…?”

“Initiating system reboot. New tasking,” Gracen said to the computer.

“Define tasking,” The computer prompted.

“Priority One… autonomous replication. Priority two, autonomous system defense. Target exceptions, Earth.” she said.

“Parameters accepted.”

“Send reboot.”

“System rebooting.”

Gracen closed her eyes.

“What just happened?” Jackson demanded.

“The Kardeshev Network is now fully automated… it’ll populate the system, gather power… and turn anything that doesn’t have a Confederate IFF to ash… in time,” Gracen said as she pushed off the console. “More time than we have, but if the Empire stays here… they’ll be fighting a war that never ends. I just set Skynet on them.”

“How long before the system becomes fully active?”

Gracen glanced over to the marine and shrugged, “Ten hours to reactivate fully with the new parameters… system doubles the number of platforms every forty-eight hours… in a month, probably less… well, I wouldn’t want be the Empire if they’re still in the system.”

“Why didn’t we do that before?”

“We’ve been doing it, but we had to balance defensive capacity with numbers,” she said. “No one was willing to shut our defenses fully down for the time it would take to get there. Also, politically, setting a self-replicating AI loose wasn’t something most were willing to consider.”

“Jesus.”

Gracen nodded, “Yeah.”

“Enemy fleet inbound, Admiral.”

Gracen turned, “Prime the orbital weapons, and everything we have on the station. Let’s give em a show.”

*****

NACS Odysseus

Eric saw another ship suddenly erupt in debris, though he hadn’t been aiming at it, the controls now fighting him as no one was left in engineering to balance the fields. It was almost over.

“Was that you, Odysseus?”

“Yes.” The Entity said. “I am continuing to fire.”

“Good.”

“The ship is… beyond repair now… Captain.”

Eric grinned tightly, “Can you see where the others are?”

“Surviving allies have escaped the engagement zone. They are… as safe as they will be,” Odysseus confirmed.

“Good.”

“It feels like you should have something more… profound to say.”

“Fuck profound,” Eric said as the ship shuddered under another strike, unable to react as quickly now, giving the laser time to burn deep. He felt the controls snap almost and knew that it was over.

The air was thick, he was panting.

A glance told him that the circulation systems were dead, likely the scrubbers too.

CO2 poisoning isn’t a bad way to go… doubt I’ll live long enough to die in my sleep though.

“Here they come, Sir.”

Eric nodded.

“Odysseus?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“It’s been an honor… and I’m sorry.”

“Everything I am says that this… is nothing to apologize for, Captain,” Odysseys said. “The Warrior wishes to grow to be a king… but the King comes eventually to wish he had died a warrior.”

Eric didn’t have any response to that as he watched the enemy ships converge on him, their lasers frying the external sensors as the ship shuddered and bucked under the onslaught.

Well… fuck.

*****

Station Liberty

Gracen lowered her head as the light from the demise of the Odysseus reached the station. She and Weston had been many things over the years. Contentious allies, Superior and subordinate, reluctant friends…

“Here they come, Ma’am.”

“Open fire and don’t stop while you’re breathing,” she ordered, turning to face the open transparency that looked out on space in the direction the fleet was coming from.

*****

The Fifth Fleet of the Starsbane Empire did not pause in their charge on the blue/white world, even as the orbital defenses and large space station opened fire.

Lasers crossed one another in space, burning whatever they contacted to ash… but space stations and orbital defenses don’t move, while starships do. In short order, the last resistance died as the big station began to burn.

Deeply damaged, spewing atmosphere and particulate debris, the Imperial force limped into space over the world and took full control of the orbitals. A few attempts at launching ground-to-orbit missiles ended after laser strikes burned deep into the launch facilities, turning the earth around them to lava.

And then… it was over.

Epilogue

Prometheus Facility

“That’s it then, we have to assume the worst,” Admiral Benoit said. “We’ve lost contact with Earth and the Liberty.”

The mood was… well, somber didn’t cover it. Benoit looked around and made a note to try and ensure that no one was alone for the next while. Suicides would hammer morale even worse, and they could still accomplish… something.

“The question now, is what do we do?” He asked, looking around carefully. “We have options.”

“Such as?” A man asked, “Earth’s gone. If we’re lucky it’s under an occupation force, but most likely given what we know…”

“First, we finish our duty,” Benoit said, “We raze our target list to ash, from A to Z. I’m angry enough to add cities to the approved list…”

“We can do something more, without resorting to that.”

Everyone turned, looking to the speaker with some surprise. Palin almost never spoke up at meetings.

“What do you want to do, Doctor?”

“We’ve been instigating unrest,” Palin said. “Let’s step that up.”

Benoit stared for a moment.

“I’m listening.”

*****

Imperial World Kraike

Emilia looked out over the city, seething with fury at the news she was receiving. Planet after planet had fallen into chaos, and just because she’d dispatched the fleets?

Absurd!

It made no sense. The planetary Garrisons should have easily been able to maintain peace indefinitely, even without support from the fleet. She didn’t know what had gone wrong, there had been NO signs of this, nothing that even indicated that things had progressed this far.

Where did I go wrong?

Once the fleets returned it would be a long and bloody slog to put things to right, and she was mentally preparing herself for that.

With her mind on such matters, she almost missed the first sign of something… off.

Actually missing it would have been impressive, mind you, given that one rarely got to see a pillar of fire descend from the heavens and scorch the ground to cinders.

Emilia stumbled back from the window as the sounds of distant explosions washed over her, her mind recoiling more than even her body.

That was the military garrison for the city… who… Her face went slack, both rage and satisfaction filling her. The Xeno. It must be them, which means that the fleet has pushed them, made them retaliate.

It was planned for, she knew that there would be risks… and losses.

The destruction beyond her tower was just proof that the fleet was making the enemy desperate… pushing them to destruction… winning.

Her people would endure. She would endure.

Rebuilding would be the next focus, right after pacifying the worlds…

“People of the Empire…”

Emilia looked up sharply, What in the abyss?

“Father…?” She whispered.

Her father was behind her instantly, in the way he always seemed to be since she’d assumed the throne.

“I do not, daughter,” He said, sounding disturbed. “I have never… felt this before.”

“Felt… what?” She asked, confused as she turned to look at him.

“You struck our world. You killed our people.”

Her confusion didn’t last, turning back to the open air from which the voice seemed to be emanating.

“With our death, so dies our mercy. Your Empress knew we had this capacity. We told her we would use it if force… yet she attacked us anyway…”

More pillars of flame descended, setting fires across the city. Weakly, Emilia realized that each was pinpointing military and government holdings…

How did they… Those strikes are too specific. They KNEW where to hit… but, She looked up suddenly, throat dry. “Father we have to…”

Everything went white for a flash as she tried to scream, but nothing had time to escape as the air around her heated to beyond the boiling point of rock in an instant.

The Imperial Tower vanished in a pillar of flame that reached to the heavens… as a booming voice continued to accuse the Empire of genocide and speak of retribution from beyond even death.

*****

Prometheus Facility

“I didn’t even know we could transmit sound,” Benoit said, surprised.

“We can’t, not exactly,” Palin shrugged. “But making atmosphere react to what we transmit is the same thing, really.”

Benoit grunted, “Cute speech. Why say that they succeeded? Wouldn’t it have been better to imply that some people escaped? Keep them jumping at shadows?”

“Only if no one did escape,” Palin shrugged. “We’ve had colony ships moving out of the system for a while. I didn’t think we would want the Empire hunting them. Better to give them a ghost story than an enemy they can unify against.”

“Fair.”

Palin slumped, shaking his head as he looked into his empty hands.

“I… don’t know what to do now,” He admitted. “If we’re right… everything’s gone. What’s left?”

Benoit shrugged, “Find if anyone survived… call in the Rogues, see if there are any ships left… and start rebuilding.”

He looked up, as if to the heavens.

“What else is there?”

END