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Supreme Emperor J'hsen folded her hands, resting her sharp chin upon the bridge they formed. "Where do we go from here?"
Wantanabe shrugged. "No real idea, ma'am. I'm just the errand-boy."
The middle-aged woman chuckled softly. "Don't give me that now, 'Nabe. I'm asking you for your take. I don't care how inappropriate or poorly informed or badly trained it is."
"All right..." the civil servant replied with a frown. "The situation, as I see it: We have a relatively small force currently stuck far from resuppy surrounded by a much greater but currently ineffective enemy force. The Reavers are being damned sure not to press the Pioneer line, knowing that we're not going to lose our self-imposed moral high ground by striking first. They could draw us into a second front in Thaurian space if we decide it's important enough, but that doesn't make much sense either."
"Not only that," J'hsen added, "but we are acting entirely on manufactured pretenses. We know that Garbog engineered the hit on the Master-Cleric. We know that he called in Reaver support, although why he wants to tangle with that monster is something beyond me."
"He probably didn't see the Imcedis as calling us for help," Wantanabe replied, leaning up against one wall idly. "Or, perhaps, didn't see the Inquisition as allowing the Imcedis to call for help."
"That's another thing--what the hell does the Inquisition stand to gain from assassinating its own boss and throwing its nation into chaos?"
"Wasn't a very good boss..."
"Hrm... point. Now we have this information that, essentially, we're being manipulated. What do we do with it?"
"Well, if you reveal it to the public, reaction's going to be a knee-jerk mandate for pulling out. It's only been a few weeks, I know, but people are curious as to why we've been so quiet concerning all this. All Superluminal News Channel knows is that we've got some ships... out there..." He waved his hand idly, brushing at flies in the distance. "And we're not hearing from them like we are from Pioneer, where every fleet action is reported on in glorious detail." He rolled his eyes. "That makes people think we're covering something up."
"And we are," J'hsen replied, "this is essentially a covert support operation."
"Ma'am, sending a fleet is hardly covert. I'll buy 'secure,' though."
"And then there's the damned Reavers. They could knock over the Concordat now if they wanted..."
"...but only if they reduced their fleet strength against Pioneer. This is smacking of desperation, ma'am. I have a feeling they're on their last legs."
The Supreme Emperor shook her head. "I don't see it. It's assumptions like that which will get us Zhukoved, just like we Zhukoved them five hundred years ago."
"Possibly. But essentially the entire front-line Military Services is up in Pioneer and along the Cordon. All we've got are reserve, standby, and Exploratory Services; we don't want to rely on the latter and there's already been an appreciable drop in readiness-per-unit since we've upped the rotation timetables in the Military Services. That's just how it goes; we're still the best in space, just not as fresh as we used to."
"So, we release it to the public, hell, we release it to the Legislative Unit, and we get yelled at to pull them back. Do we?"
"Depends on what's in our best interest, ma'am. It does give us an exit strategy, at least--can't fight a battle that's not politically viable at home, especially when we look like puppets of a nation that is arguably far weaker than we are."
"Hrm. If we stay in, we stand to lose GLAIVE and gain... what, exactly?"
"Well, we can't shake them loose of the Thaurians' galaxy, not without a lot more resources. The Military Services are designed to only take one full-on front at a time, no Schlieffen plans for us. My wonder is why the Reavers didn't do this sooner."
J'hsen shrugged. "Simple. Before now, the Thaurians were a united power and they don't want to fight on two separate fronts any more than we do. Now they're divided and easy to keep divided... and that brings us to if we pull out. The Reavers entrench themselves in Thaurian space and they start brushing the Concordat aside. What then?"
"It'll take them time to actually take and hold a galaxy. In that time, we build up the Military Services to be able to fight on two fronts... or we press forward with Pioneer."
"Ugh." The Supreme Emperor winced, then leaned back in her chair. "The first will have to go through the Legislative Unit... tight fisted bastards... and the latter is just distasteful. We fight until the enemy either talks or can't make war no more. Unfortunately, the enemy has learned this and is thus talking."
"Time to play hardball diplomatically, then, I think. Still, losses are minimized I think if we just cede this fight. If we're not willing to pour in secondary resources from our otherwise unengaged fronts to just wipe the Reavers from the galaxy, we should pull back until we're willing to. You'll want a military second opinion on that."
J'hsen nodded. "You're right, I do. Still, it sounds rational. If we go by principles of warfare... we just don't have mass. Be ready to weather the onslaught of the press."
Wantanabe smirked wryly. "No problem, ma'am. I've got it covered."
Fleet Admiral Nibnumber flicked his eyes instantly from the strategic indicator board to Fremount, then back to the purple-blue cloud. "Tell the Supreme Emperor that she's going to have to wait a moment. 'Ri, PD... ?"
My eyes--if I had had them at the time--would've gone wide. Hundreds, thousands, of little red dots filtering in, growing larger as they approached from hostile icons. They outnumbered the stars in the sky in my mind, and yet I somehow knew that there were three thousand two hundred and seventy eight hostile inbound objects. That's... a lot of missiles.
Focus, Officer, the ship snapped, I'm going to be very busy for the next few moments.
The Kzroth grimaced. "Missiles entering range now, engaging..."
"Ares, pinpoint shield priority..."
The ship's smooth and possibly overly-casual voice chuckled. "But of course."
Phillip frowned as he tightened his folded arms behind his back, jaw moving slightly as he tenderized the side of his mouth with his molars. Sagittarius was never this hard to work with... later. "Return fire angles..."
"C-fracs inbound," Val said with over-controlled calm, "fore-port. Thirteen."
"Belay," Nibnumber retracted with a roll of his eyes, "teras one-two-three fire max arc, intercept fracs."
"Acting." Ka'Ri tapped the 'hot key' on his console, announcing an immediate priority order, then--with Ares' help--indicated to gunnery crews that the large slugs of shielded osmium coming it at ninety percent the speed of light needed to have a run in with sufficient energy to completely annihilate them. Even in these days, some of the most lethal weapons are speeding bullets--hyper- and ultrakinetics. At his command beams sprayed out from the superbattleship's massive hardpoints, cones rather than threads of energy. Upon contacting this high-density energy, the shells' shielding--already overtaxed by simply deflecting dust--evaporates and the shells explosively convert into light particles and gamma radiation. Thus robbed of most of their kinetic energy, the clouds that remain fizzled against Ares' powerful wavicle-gravitic shield bubbles that flickered to allow exiting weapons fire, what little that got through gently warming the armored hull underneath.
Brace yourself, Officer...
What?
Red dots disappeared in swarms of green light, green cones; it was all too much to take in at once and yet I knew exactly what was happening down to the smallest detail. My primal mind--yes, we Volanti do have them--and my logical mind separated, the first yelping in fear and surprise, the latter simply calculating, observing, continuing with duty...
One circle blasted to fill the whole screen with a flash of red. All went white, then black, then another flash of light as my head contacted the bulkhead behind me and I fell to the floor in a heap.
"Enemy retreating."
"Val, co-ord with 'Ri for return fire. I want one of them."
The Kzroth shook his head. "Not happening, sir. That last salvo has all fore-port engagement weapons exhausted. If we can have a second..."
"Never mind that," the Volanti sighed as he leaned back in his chair, "they're gone."
The fleet admiral kept on in battlespeak. "Damage?"
"Nothing got the shipyard or the wounded ships, but all the actives took a peppering and the defense drone array is down to about twenty-three percent effectiveness. Total combat effectiveness drop... to be determined. As for us... port-side's taken a beating on the armor, some local secondary damage but most subsystems read green."
"I'm fine," Ares mumbled to no one in particular. The bridge crew had by this time learned to deal with their unusually vocal vessel, but this was a little different.
Nibnumber looked up at the ceiling. "You sure about that, Ares?"
"Just stings a little, sir. Will be fine."
She isn't usually... formal, Phillip thought, eyebrow quirking slightly at 'sir.' "All right then. Now, Sally," he turns to the communications officer, "what was it the Supreme Emperor wanted to say?"
"Finally, we have news concerning the mysterious and unexpected deployment of Weirdo Zone vessels in the aftermath of the assassination of the Thaurian Concordat's leader. We have confirmed reports from Military Services' Sector Twelve Defense Command that a task force labeled GLAIVE was assembled and sent to the demilitarized zone and is now fighting a Reaver incursion in the Thaurian primary galaxy.
"We also have shocking new evidence from the Internal Security Services concerning the nature of the political upheaval in the Concordat, definitive proof that shows that House Garbog and the Thaurian theocratic Inquisition are directly responsible, and are also responsible for the entry of the Reavers... which lead House Imcedi, currently holding de jure control of the Concordat, to request and receive our assistance to combat the Reaver invasion as Thaurian proxies...
"Superluminal News Channel has it first--listen to this conclusive audio evidence..."
Barely opening my eyes, I could see the red-lit yellow of the metal deck in a hazy gridwork against my cheek, fading off to a beige blur to mingle with misshapen nebulae and splotches which had no meaning. I closed my eyes as there was no reason to keep them open.
And that was that.