“War is like your first time. You are nervous, they are nervous, by the end of the night someone is bent over.”— Ar Azure Yorhal, during the gathering of the cve on July 25, 2429.

  Doubt. Fear. It’s all around me. My crew is anxious. Their eyes dart from s to s, stealing nervous gnces my way, but they ot see me. Not when the PhantomShield is up. It thrums faintly, engulfing the holoprojector, Captain Gerard Nulse, and myself. The hum strains my ears - isoting me and remindihat no sounds escape this field and that outsiders ot see inside, allowing some privacy. On the holo, Sed Admiral Horus Lensh’s gaze is scrutinizing me. He is watg me as I pace without saying a word. I stop as a drop of sweat races down my bald head, then ly shaved face, before falling onto the gold and blue pting of my armor. A head of an elephaed on my torso stares outward, its preseh a blessing and a curse. My eyes are heavy, everything blurring due to sleep deprivation for the st twe hours. I wipe another drop of sweat from my cheek, gripping my sword tighter, as if a drowning man would a branch.

  “We should attack, Grand General,” Horus says, and I turn to him. His face is stoid bony, with grayish hair styled to his right and his gray eyes not hiding his distaste. I find it hard to pce the object of his repulsion. Is it for the situation, the ck of information, or as per usual with me? I shake my head, “Not yet.”

  “You are too careful.” He csps his hands behind his back. “Marcorians are not hailing, and most of their fleet is missing. We should attack.”

  “Our allies have not arrived yet either,” Gerard’s vois beside me, and I wihis smells of a trap.”

  My hand grips the handle of my sword tighter, my knuckles turning white, as I gnce up at Gerard. He is a head taller, with softer facial tours thaher Horus or I. At forty-five, he is the you member present. I pat him on the back with my other hand as I pass him by, nodding in agreement with his assessment; the situatios itself as grim.

  “Could the Marcorians have gotten wind of our pns?” Fear whispers in my ear with its coarse voice.

  No, I push those thoughts aside. No, that’s impossible.

  “Your wife could already be dead if they did,” the voiags on.

  I clear my throat and gaze to the starboard, where radars read our surrounding area without rest. “Marcorians could hide oher side of the p,” I tihoughtfully. “I won’t fall for this trap.”

  “Then why don’t they hail us?” Horus hisses, his jaw tightening. “They are buying time. We must strike. Now.”

  “Watch yourself,” I snap at him, harsher than intended. But once I’m on that path, I know better than to step off it. “I’ll have you know your pce, or you’ll know the void.” I point to the cold space outside the viewport. My hand thanks me as blood flows without obstrus through it again.

  Siletles over us. My eyes are on his, and his on mine. I hear Gerard shuffling, his feet dragging oal. But I won’t lose this standoff. My patience pays off. Horus looks away. I hide a smirk.

  “Marcorians may find it hard to grasp the situation,” Gerard breathes out in relief. “Lions don’t bargain with mice.”

  “It’s good to know how you see yourself,” Horus says, cutting him off and straightening his uniform. “Although their spirit animal is a scorpion, ours is an elephant. We should stomp them the same.”

  “If the roles were reversed,” I say, bringing their attention bae, “we wouldn’t have answered the sve’s demand for surrender either. Regardless, they might be praying to their gods and goddesses for blessings or simir things.” I smirk at that, the same as Gerard does. Marcorians and their gods. In our day and age, where humans traveled far and wide and entered nothing. Not even aliens. These men and women still believe in their gods. In their destiny.

  “Their loyalty to their cause inspires,” Horus adds nontly. “Perhaps that is why they are our masters for the st three hundred years. But it would be wrong of me to downpy our aors’ role. They surrendered without a fight. Choosing their lifestyle over some of their freedoms.”

  “With each passing sed, I see the beauty of their choice,” Gerard says, shaking his head.

  “Any news if Marcorians are attag our ps?” I turn to Gerard.

  “I’ll check with Nesi.” He bows and leaves the PhantomShield’s zone.

  But I’ve already answered my question. If they did, Nesi would already be here, interrupting our versation. I meet gazes with Horus again. “I’ll not tolerate your behavior in front of my officers. cve or not. Some of their bag of you or not. I still trol the army and the fleet. One more provocation from you, and I will report HBzioth’s untimely death to the cve.”

  He clears his throat, his teeth grinding against each other. “Threats, my Grand General?” He looks me dead in the eye. “Aren’t we the promoters of peace?”

  I disect from him, and the PhantomShield is gone. Chatter fills my ears. Officers and crew members run around, giving orders and reying information. I tuhem out and g the grand viewport, which takes up most of the forward wall. Two of the three Marcorian Defensive Pary Ptforms (DPP) are in view in their full glory. They are like moons orbiting the red p, although their shape reminds me of a disk—one of the force shields gleaming ireating sunlight, redireg the rays to our tinted viewports.

  My stomach twists as I see only a handful of their ships on the radar—two cruisers and three destroyers. My chief radar operative has already checked the entire surrounding area. It is apparent the Marcoria -jumped. But where they jumped is a whole other question.

  “Ining!”

  I jerk my head toward the voice, my heart skipping a beat. “It has begun,” the voice whispers in my ear. I turn to the viewpain, only to see a momentary passing of an e psma. It’s thin, thihan ours, but deadly. One of my cruiser’s shields takes a direct hit from a pulse on. An e psma bst breaks against the shield, and the shock waves wash in all dires like ripples ier. It’s a beautiful, almost mesmerizing dispy.

  “Their cruisers are maneuvering, their ons are activating.” Another of my officers is yelling.

  I scramble to issue orders: “Grand General to the Hewshia—ons free. I repeat—ons free.”

  Relief washes over me as the initial shock subsides, and I realize the fight has begun, and we didn’t fire first. That lessens some of my guilt, but my heart remains heavy. Now, other thoughts strain my mind. I order my cruisers in a cluster battle formation, and I have a group of destroyers make their way to my starboard. I hesitate, uaiher to unleash the full potential of my battleship, Caedes. She could be our salvation or our downfall. I choose to tank the shots for now. The C.O.R.E. (Critical Operatiution Engine) will sustain the shields for a while, but our seven-mile size makes us a prime target. I watch as our psma shots barely reach the enemy, their ships maneuvering to get closer to the p. I curse.

  Their psma ons cede in raw power but make up for it with deadly precision and superie. They are yet to miss their target. I curse our intel. -jumped to this location, expeg to fight a fleet. They would be closer; we would rain hell on them. Now, we strain our C.O.R.E.s even to reach our targets.

  “Horus!” I tact the vice Admiral. “Take yroup and make sure those cruisers burn to ash.” I point at the two Marcorian cruisers, which were finishing activating their ons, I assume. “Gabar, you and yroup will advao the DPP. Unleash yhters. Others will tend to the damaged cruiser,” I assure him. The man is still worried about one of his cruisers malfuning during the -jump.

  I spot a horde of fighters in the viewport flying by. Like mosquitoes, they break into a crazed furor a with their deadly dates, which take off from the enemies’ DPPs and cruisers. They are agile, fast, and precise. One fighter caught my eye. It twists between pulse on bsts, torpedoes, and drifting debris—wreckage left behind by less fortunate pilots. It veers left, then rolls upward, dodging psma fire from the enemy fighter closing in behind. More of hters surge into the fray. The psma tears them apart in seds. I grimace after an explosion, imagining the pilots’ screams of pain - until the bitter truth caught up: no audible screams in space.

  Some enemy fighters broke through, heading for our left fnk. “Do not let their fighters reach our cruiser’s engines,” I order the fleet. “Destrroup three, move about our aft.”

  Seeing no activity anywhere near us and having enemy ships preoccupied with my cruisers, I let my mind run rampant with various possibilities. There may be a ce to end this now, I decide. “Grand General Varick to Caedes, engage full throttle. Hold the course.” Gripping the metal railing, I and, “All ons free.”

  Cheering follows, and I fought the urge to cover my ears. Biting my lower lip, I let all that shrieking wash over me. All the while, I wait with anticipation.

  The ship shook after the shield ate up a shot.

  Then another.

  A ahe shields ate up most of the energy each time, but bits of it got through, hitting the ship and shaking it. After another shot, one of my officers wavers, falls, hits his head, as knocked out. Medic rushes to him. Too eager. She slips and falls o him. I shake my head aurn my gaze to the radars and the viewport.

  We brake forward, and the enemy responds as expected. They double down on their efforts to get closer to the p and DPPs. But I have thirteen cruisers, not ting the oh C.O.R.E issues. We’ll have the upper hand if we are far enough from the anti-ship guns based on the p.

  “I’ve incapacitated one of the Marcorian cruisers.” Horus updates. His bony face appears on the holo, still not a wrinkle on his uniform.

  “Let him be. Destroyers will finish him if needed,” I say, turning away from the holoprojector. I almost feel Horus’s disapproving stare - the favorite son of the blood-thirsty cve.

  I tinue, “Pursue the other, but do not get pulled too far out of position; their fleets are probably on their way here.”

  “Yes, sir,” Horus spat.

  I’ll deal with him ter.

  Another shot and the first DPP ruptures in an array of explosions. Yet still, they do not hail us. I ch my jaw as my heart races almost agly. I look at the radars again. No allies had arrived yet.

  Teical difficulties, I tell myself. They have teical difficulties. But I lie to myself for only so long. This is feeling more and more like a setup by the Fraxonnians - our allies of venience, more so than anything else. I curse. I curse myself, the cve, and the day I heard this pn.

  I let my fingers massage my eyes, as if trying to suppress the memories of that day. Fraxon made many vows. No so far.

  Tricked! I muse under my breath. Sours off me, eyes sing radar and viewport. I take a few deep breaths, trying to devise a logical sario. tag Fraxon is out of the question. If they are in a -jump, they ot pick up on my signal, and if Marcorians are attag them at their home worlds, they won’t pick up from me. That isn’t my biggest , however. A darker thought looms over my head - what if this is what they wanted?

  o tact all the captains, I turn my gaze to the viewport a my thoughts run rampant for the moment. Pressing on is a mistake I could not afford. I need more facts. Without them, I knew I would get trapped one way or another.

  “Grand General…?” Horus’s coarse voice attempts to disrupt me. “We should finish them. Press on. We are close to a victory here.”

  I gnce away from the viewport and turn to the holoprojector. A multitude of captains eyeing me - Horus in the middle.

  “Not yet,” I utter. “All of you are to assume a defensive posture. There is o ter on me, but we are not pushing for now. Just get far enough where their DPPs are not too dangerous to you. We must be ready in case their fleet shows up. Horus,” I stop the man before he say anything. “You all know how this is looking. No enemies and no allies. I fear they may be in league, and we are the target.”

  They all aowledge. Even Horus says nothing, but then again Gerard is eying him, almost daring him to say something.

  I disect from the call a my hands fall to my sides.

  “Their fleet is somewhere,” the nagging voice returns. “You don’t think they disappeared into thin air now, do you?” It tihe tone is soft and sarcastilike before. I y eyes, but all I see is Hewshia Nexus on fire. The entire p. A chill runs down my spine as I see my house engulfed in fmes—all the trees, bushes, and flowers. I force myself back to the ship, where everything is quiet. For now.

  “Grand General,” Nesi runs up to me, his eyes betraying his fear. “The cve demands your presence. Immediately.”