Eventually, his waking hours grew short indeed. He would sleep for days at a time, only to awaken for a handful of hours before the cycle repeated itself. By that time, the adults had gathered to hold a feast for him, but he himself seemed to prefer playing bairhoth with the kids. When her great-great-great-grandfather passed away, she and the other kids who’d played against him dedicated a bairh (sports ball) to his bedroom.
For a large family like the Ecryua clan, death was a relatively common event. But that was the first time the girl named Naurh had witnessed the death of someone she held dear to her heart, which became seized with grief. She could remember wiping her tears against his cheeks like it was yesterday.
In what way did a Lander age? Like a cat, or like an Abh?
And when she knew for sure she’d never be able to watch the first Lander that ever caught her interest age, would she feel the same way she felt when her great-great-great-grandfather died?
“Rearguard Ecryua,” said Sobash, who was sitting in the Captain’s Seat. “What is the situation with the enemy?”
At the moment, only three people were aboard the Basrogrh’s bridge, Sobash, Inspector Supervisor Samson, and Ecryua. With the control gauntlet equipped, Sobash was in charge of maneuvering the ship in 3-space, in anticipation of needing to fuse space-times with the enemy. The Deputy Starpilot, Ecryua, was single-handedly undertaking bubble steering, communications, and information.
Ecryua glanced at the planar space map. “Everything around us is the enemy.” That being said, there were gaps between enemy ships all over. They were probably spaces created after they’d formed units. Ecryua thrust the Basrogrh’s space-time bubble through one of the gaps.
A space-time bubble’s speed was inversely proportional to the square root of its mass. As such, lightweight assault ship bubbles boasted high mobility. They wouldn’t be fusing with enemy bubbles unless they wished to. It was a different story for mines, however. Assault ships were weak to mobile space-time mines, which were really just unmanned ships whose only purpose was to destroy the enemy target. Fortunately, the enemy didn’t seem to be coming at them with any mines. It looked as though they would survive.
However, the situation for the supply and amphibious ships, which were sluggish from the assault ship’s perspective, was not as optimistic. While there were no signs of battle taking place as displayed by the planar space map, with the gap in might this overwhelming, they could be cleaned up relatively quietly.
...In what way did land peoples age? Could she hope to be taken care of on her deathbed?
Which died more blissfully, her great-great-great grandfather, or the cat?
Were the people who died in this sector happy?
Would Ecryua join them in death?
Unconsciously, she had been staring at the empty Clerk’s Seat.
Was he alive or dead? If he was dead, there was no way he’d died happily.
She wanted to ask him: What does it feel like to you Landers, to age? But he was still too young to give her a precise answer. Of course, Rearguard Lynn wasn’t just among the first Landers she’d met (Samson was another) — he was the first Lander her age she’d met as well.
When she snapped to, she realized the Basrogrh’s space-time bubble was about to ram into an enemy bubble flock. Ecryua veered away and corrected course. Then, an inter-bubble communication came through.
“Interim Captain,” she said. “We’ve received a signal to assemble from the Lachcaü.”
“Understood. Let’s join up with Commodore Sporr for the time being,” said Sobash. He seemed relieved. “Does this mean Fleet 1 is doing okay?”
Ecryua looked to the planar space map. The bubbles thought to belong to Fleet 1 numbered all of two in total.
“I think the answer is no,” muttered Ecryua.
“Is this the end of Fleet 1...?” groaned Unit Commander Gabautec.
Lafier, too, was looking at the footage of the outside with disbelief.
Ugly fissures ran down the exterior of the Hunter Fleet 1 flagship, the Lachcaü. The eight-headed dragon crest was cracked into two. According to what they were told, twenty-six out of the thirty-three patrol ships were completely destroyed.
This is a giant blow, thought Lafier. She’d steeled her heart for the eventuality, but it still hurt to see. So many soldiers had died. And while Lafier didn’t want to believe their deaths could have been in vain, the Royal Princess couldn’t be sure. She supposed her grandmother, the Empress, had to think such thoughts every single day. She wondered whether she could endure the same...
She’d never wished fervently to be Empress. Nevertheless, she’d been taught that as long as she was an Abliar, she had to aim for the emperorship, so she hadn’t doubted she could handle the track to the throne. She’d even thought she might become Empress after the results she won as a starpilot earned her renown.
Am I not actually cut out to be a starpilot? she thought, doubting herself for the first time.
Her father had, at every opportunity, claimed “I’m not suited to be a soldier.” Perhaps it was because he felt he couldn’t bear the weight of the blood coursing through his veins.
She wanted a nice long chat with her father. Come to think of it, their last long conversation had taken place quite a while ago. She hadn’t met him in person since she’d become an assault ship captain.
I’m growing weaker in spirit, she derided herself.
“We now know why we weren’t attacked,” reported the Communications Chief. “We surmise that what we passed through was an enemy supply corps. They must not have had much firepower.”
“Not that we’re any different in that regard,” said Gabautec, smiling with relief. “If we’d gone at it head-on, we’d have lost, supply corps or no. Also, from outside the bubble, we must have come across as a patrol ship, too.”
“We were incredibly lucky.”
“There’s a very good chance that by the same token, the Luisaith is intact, too.”
“True.”
Sure enough, before long, the Luisaith, which they’d not known the whereabouts of, was detected, alive and well.
“Concluding information linkage,” said the Communications Chief.
“Okay. Now split space-times. We’re leaving this horrid sector right now,” said Gabautec. He probably hadn’t meant anything by it, but Lafier felt a tad attacked.
He has every right to criticize me, she thought. I’m more worried about one life I don’t even know is gone than thousands of lives I know are lost...
“Is something the matter?” asked the Unit Commander.
“It’s nothing,” she said, shaking her head.
Chapter 10: Sorh Blaiglach Gyme Üaca (When the Hunters Lay Down Their Bows)
Twenty-three days had passed since the Lady of the Countdom of Lohbnahss had stepped out.
At the Üéch Sauder Sarcsr (Portal-Sea of Sarcss) clashed Hunter Fleet 21 of the Humankind Empire of Abh and the United Humankind Sarrye Area Fleet, which had clearly designated the Dreuhynh Sarcsr (Countdom of Sarcss) as their next pit stop. Unlike on Lohbnahss, on Sarcss the evacuation of the magistrate and their staff had proceeded smoothly, and so the Empire wasn’t really required to defend the Saudec Sarcsr (Sarcss Portal). But Commander-in-Chief Tlife wanted to settle this here and now. Thanks to the efforts of Fleet 1, they had a full and accurate understanding of the enemy’s configuration. Less than half of the ships were combat vessels, and the rest were merchant ships that were each either nearly or totally unarmed.
“We can win this,” said Tlife, who was in a royal mood. The enemy’s estimated force of arms was less than half of his own fleet’s. Moreover, the enemy needed to resupply, and wouldn’t see another day without entering the Sarcss Portal. As long as he didn’t commit some gross error, they would prevail.
“I have prepared two battle strategies,” said Chief of Staff Cahyoor. “One has us not letting them enter the portal at all, and the other has us letting them enter and then imprisonin
g them. Which will you implement, sir?”
“Protracted battles don’t agree with me. I’m going to finish this now.”
“Then you would be amenable to the plan that prevents them from entering.”
“Yep. I feel sorry for the bastards, but let’s blow them to smithereens.”
“Roger that.”
And so their orders flew out from the flagship Sulbiruch. Subsequently, Fleet 21 took up a line-abreast formation.
They’re moving sluggishly, thought Tlife, who was gazing at the enemy bubbles on the planar space map with his arms folded. They’d known from the start that the enemy was advancing at a creeping pace, but they weren’t even assuming battle formations. Did they even want to fight?
Eventually, the enemy came within firing range of their mines.
“An inter-bubble communication from the enemy,” reported the Communications Officer.
“What’s that?” Tlife recalled the time when he was very young and tried to go someplace to play, only to be stopped by his parent. Back then, the premonition that he’d get waylaid by some tedious chore grabbed hold of his heart. And this message was giving off the same dark vibe of work.
“The enemy is surrendering.”
“Surrendering?” Tlife’s shoulders drooped. “Really? They’re really surrendering?”
“They really are,” stated the officer strongly, leaving no room for doubt. “They’re repeating their offer even now.”
“This is a good outcome,” Cahyoor consoled him. “This way we’ll sustain no casualties whatsoever.”
“I understand that!” said Tlife, his mood no longer so royal. “What I’m trying to say is that if they were going to surrender here, then they shouldn’t have tried to escape to begin with!”
“I see,” said Cahyoor. “Shall I persuade the enemy to give up hope of surrendering, since what they’ve done can’t be undone?”
“Don’t bog us down with something so tedious. I’ll just refuse their surrender.”
“You’ll refuse their surrender, sir?”
“I’m annoyed because I can’t do that!” He was not going to be so foolish as to waste his soldiers’ lives on an unnecessary battle. “I swear, what was the enemy trying to pull, exactly? Were they really aiming to break through our siege?”
“They successfully lured our troops from the front lines, albeit only for a fixed period of time,” said Cahyoor calmly. “If I were the enemy army’s top commander, I would hold their actions in high esteem, given that if they engaged here, it would end in their annihilation, and would only barely chip away at our war potential. Their conduct is eminently logical.”
“Why don’t you tell that to the enemy commander, then? I’m sure they’ll be pleased as punch.”
“Don’t mind if I do, sir.”
“But wait, they may have thinned out the front lines, but if they never capitalized on it, then wasn’t that pointless?”
“That isn’t the fault of the enemy troops before our eyes.”
“Look, if it’s all as you say, then what is our role here? Are we the clowns that get led around by the nose by people who won’t even fight?”
“We don’t need to abase ourselves to ‘clown’ level, sir...”
“I’m not the one dragging us down to that level!”
“Sure... though in any case, we have done what we needed to do. Besides, even if we somehow didn’t, the Glagamh Byrer Blaigr (Hunter Fleet Command Center) would shoulder the blame...”
“I UNDERSTAND that! Are you ever gonna get around to ditching your habit of waxing on and on about what we all already know full well!?”
“My apologies, sir.”
“Inform all that the battle is suspended. Stow the mines, too — even though we painstakingly prepared them for the occasion. Lower the electric power on the laser cannons. And remove the victory-celebration decorations. Then I want you to disengage everyone’s battle positions and go to sleep. I’m going to sleep out of spite, so I leave all of the fiddly little details to you. Oh, and don’t forget to shower the enemy commander with your praises.”
“Roger.” Cahyoor saluted. Then he remembered: “However, I suggest we leave the victory-celebration decorations up. We have won, just through another means.”
“Wait, you actually went ahead and decorated the place?” marveled Tlife.
“No, sir. I just thought that perhaps His Excellency instructed us to prepare for a celebratory banquet.”
“Wouldn’t feasting before the fight be rude to the enemy?”
“Then what shall we do about the celebratory banquet?”
Tlife gave it some thought. A victory was a victory, after all, and everyone seemed bored these days anyway. It would be nice to see some revelry and merrymaking around these parts.
“All right. Plan a feast. But the Commander-in-Chief won’t be treating anybody to drinks, got it? And make the fleet quartermasters happy by keeping expenses minimal.”
“Shall we make it a pay-your-own-way party, then...”
“It’s all well and good to trust in our subordinates’ loyalty, but let’s not get greedy here,” chided Tlife. “Why should they have to celebrate an Empire victory out of their own pockets? I could never issue such a miserly order.”
“Understood, sir,” said Cahyoor, saluting once more.
Bascotton was a remote, frontier star system that seldom ever changed, but just as an ordinary person could become famous by some accident of fate, so too could a star system bask in the spotlight. The accident of fate that had bumped the spotlight onto the Bascotton Star System lay in the closed portal situated around 4.1 light-years away.
That closed portal was named VRGE1447 by the UH, and Portal 193 of Caysh by the Empire. The UH had, in order to bring the Humankind Empire of Abh to ruin in one stroke, secretly hatched Operation Heracles, and put into effect another plan named Operation Iolaus as the groundwork.
Operation Iolaus revolved around the search for pathways that would enable attacks on the core of the Empire from the shortest possible distance away, and plenty of time and money had been allocated to it. The Operation Iolaus HQ had found several promising candidates, and focused their attention on two potential pathways in particular: FLIST0223 (or Portal 882 of Seev, as the Abh called it), and VRGE1447. Both led to the most lightly guarded region in the Empire, the Ileesh Monarchy. And it was thought that by making good use of both portals, they could cause the imperial capital of Lacmhacarh to fall after a brief and decisive battle.
The temptation was great. If the dragon whose eight heads stretched across the galaxy lost its capital, it would be rent asunder, enfeebled and prone to the slaughter.
With the realization of Operation Iolaus, Operation Heracles was now achievable. The United Humankind respectfully made its case to the Military Affairs Council of the Nova Sicilia Treaty Organization, which was established to counter and oppose the Humankind Empire of Abh. Its Military Affairs Council was run by people who wished for the immediate extinguishing of the Empire from the bottoms of their hearts, so there was no way they would reject Operation Heracles. The only wrinkle was the name. Heracles, the hero of legend, had certainly taken down a large, multi-headed snake, but it was said that monster had nine heads — one more than the symbol they were really after. Even more inauspiciously, one of those heads was immortal, and the others had the off-putting quality of multiplying upon getting severed. One of the councilors latched onto this discrepancy, but most didn’t care at all.
The name of the mythological figure who slew the Gaftnochec had also been imparted through the generations, but naturally, it was the indirect ancestors of the Abh who had passed down that tale, so there was hesitation to adopt their name. Besides, the monstrous serpent that Heracles had slain was much more formidable than the Gaftnochec. As such, it stood to reason Heracles would be able to slay the eight-headed dragon with ease.
In the end, this topic of discussion was buried without reaching a decision, and the tag of {PROVISIONA
L TITLE} was silently removed at some point. By the time the title of the operation was finalized, the member nations of the Treaty Organization confidentially approved of the operation, and the alliance’s principal military force, the United Humankind Peacekeepers, was tasked with taking care of the details.
The main invasion path adopted by the Peacekeepers was through FLIST0223, with VRGE1447 (which had been moved closer to the Bascotton System) reserved for diversionary troops. And since they were diversionary, the troops assembled in the Bascotton System took the lead and jumped into imperial territory.
This was where hostilities blossomed. The Bascotton System was the hometown of this war.
The Commander-in-Chief of Hunter Fleet 4, Noble Prince Biboth Aronn Nérémr Ïarlucec Nélaith gazed at the Saudec Bascottonr (Portal of Bascotton) with some emotion. Fleet 4 had the Bascotton Portal in a state of siege. And there were no enemy ships to detect as far as their mass-waves reached.
“I command each sub-fleet’s strike squadrons to prepare for preliminary mine strikes,” said Neleth
“Is there a need for that?” replied the man who was both his Chief of Staff and his twin brother, Nefeh. “There’s no sign of the enemy. Surely reconnaissance would suffice?”
“There’s a good chance there’s an orbital stronghold,” rebutted Neleth.
“But Neleth, you must know mines won’t do much against an orbital stronghold.”
“We’re making assurance double sure.”
“Why are you only ever this cautious during times like this? Especially when the dictionary defines you specifically as the opposite of ‘prudent.’”
“See, this is why I tell you that you’re a poor judge of character, Nefeh. I’ll have you know, I’m an exceptionally prudent man.”
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