Simpson agreed completely with his two aides, but he continued to try to hide his view, at least in part. He wasn’t sure why, but he figured he would go with it, just in case it was right. And if he had to be completely honest with someone, he would make it Sam Taggart, now his second in command. He’d grown confident in her, despite her clear discomfort with her own position. She could take his place even, he’d become almost sure of that.

  “So, neither of you expects a major enemy attack for at least two months?” That was what they had both said, more or less, and it was his view as well, but he wanted to get a feeling for how confident the two officers were…and how much was purely guesswork.

  Again, Jaymes answered first. “Two and a half weeks…that is all I’m willing to say for sure, or at least close to it. That’s all we know. But that said, I’m fairly sure about the two months.” He stopped, and he looked at Graves. “Eighty percent maybe?”

  Graves nodded. “Yes, I would say eighty percent.”

  “Eighty percent,” Simpson restated. “Okay…so eight chances in ten they won’t attack for two months?”

  He expected a bit of time, but Jaymes answered almost immediately. “I do expect them to take about two months to attack…but I doubt it will be much more than that. They have to allow for our own construction, and even with more of our new ships going to the other fleet, they have to imagine that some portion is coming here. I’d say we have two months, or close to it, because that is just realism, considering the distance they have between their home and the relevant area.” There was a delay, a noticeable one during which Jaymes turned and looked at Graves. “I doubt we will see much more either, and almost certainly no more than three months. And I doubt very much we will get that long.”

  Graves nodded aggressively. “I agree, sir. No more than three months…if that.”

  Simpson was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Alright…thank you for your insight.” He basically agreed completely with what the two had said, but he decided to keep it as much to himself as possible. “I’d say we could continue this discussion all day and all night too, but nothing would change. So, let’s get back to duty. If you’re right, we’ll be facing off against some kind of enemy attack in two to three months. They are looking at us, too, and trying to decide what they’re going to meet…and they’ll be strong enough to take that out, you can be sure of that. So, we’ve got to be ready in two months…and by that, I mean ready. More than the enemy expects. Because that’s the only way to win.”

  His words stirred up the two men. Both knew they faced almost insurmountable odds. But both still had enough inside to allow them to enjoy occasional risings of expectation, even the varied—and occasional—thought they would win. Simpson was definitely glad for it. He would take anything he could get to keep his people moving forward.

  But he didn’t share the thought, not even the occasional hope that his fleet would be able to defeat the Highborn. He knew his forces faced an enemy that understood why they had lost, and they would see that it didn’t happen again. He hoped for three months, even a bit more, but he was sure that was all he would have. Then he would face an enemy force much more powerful than the one he had fought before…and his only hope was to batter it sufficiently to stop it from advancing for a few more months.

  Two months more, maybe three. That was all he had. He didn’t intend to retreat from the coming fight. No sir. He was going to battle to the end, all of his people were, whether they knew it then or not. And the only way anything was going to retreat from the system was after the enemy force was badly damaged, and unable to pursue immediately.

  He wondered who realized the true reality of the situation. Sam Taggart, at least, knew. He had never discussed it with her, but she was perhaps the only one present with a harder grip on reality than he had.

  Yes, she knows…and perhaps she doesn’t even believe we’ve got the two months…

  Chapter Five

  Highborn Flagship S’Argevon

  Imperial System GH3-2307 (Beta Telvara System)

  Year of the Firstborn 391 (329 AC)

  “It took a bit more time than we imagined at first—but there is little doubt that we now have more than enough power assembled to take on the enemy. The four other vessels of the imperial class alone are probably more powerful than every enemy ship…and we have a large number of other units as well. Our decision to attack before, with only a single one of the new imperial units active, was, in retrospect, the problem…and waiting until all four of the remaining vessels have been completed, as well as the new wave of conventional ships, will prove to be the deciding factor. I see no realistic possibility that the enemy will be able to match our force…or field anything capable of putting out any significant resistance. The single enemy imperial unit survived the fight by all accounts, but it was very close to destroyed, and there is little chance that the enemy will be able to repair it meaningfully in less than a number of years. And once our new ships are received by the forces in the Union, we will be able to continue our advance there as well.”

  Tesserax spoke boldly, perhaps a bit too boldly for Phazarax, who shared his basic views…but who’d also become somewhat cautious of the human enemy, and their decisive defensive efforts. He basically agreed with his—senior, or equal…it wasn’t entirely clear, and the two had avoided any direct confrontations, so far at least—but he had started to allow for responses from the enemy beyond those he’d expected. This was only rationality, at least to his view, but he quickly realized that Tesserax—and most of his subordinates—failed to experience the same thing. That he didn’t understand. The conquest was supposed to be completed by now, for God sake, and occupying barely half of one of the powers was far from a satisfactory level. Even if it was a big chunk of the largest power.

  “I agree with your thinking, Tesserax…and yet I cannot completely disregard the enemy’s actions. They have been more difficult to conquer than we expected…far so.” He paused. The last two words were more than he’d been willing to say, though he had said them, nevertheless. “I’m not saying I am truly concerned…” This was a lie. By any measure, he was at least concerned. “…I’m just saying, maybe we should at least discuss the enemy’s past actions…and possible future ones.”

  Tesserax stared at his…cohort. “I can acknowledge the enemy has been somewhat more difficult to dispatch than expected, but this is the result of poor upfront planning…and the ability of many of the powers to form an alliance more quickly than expected. I do not believe it offers any real chance the enemy will prevail…do you?”

  Phazarax delayed his response for a few seconds, though not long enough to transmit that he did, in fact, at times at least, worry about the enemy. That didn’t mean he thought they were likely to win the fight in the end, but he did expect more trouble than Tesserax did. “No, of course not,” he said. “But still…I think we should exert more care, perhaps take the enemy more seriously that we have. We’ve lost far more units already than we had imagined we would…and been compelled to build a lot more of our own and put them into the fight.” They’d lost a lot more of their own ships, as well as untold thousands of enslaved humans, too, but Phazarax didn’t say anything more than he had.

  “I think you are too ready to give the enemy credit for our own foul ups. Certainly, we have underestimated their abilities, to an extent at least—and I will accept some of the blame for that—but I do not feel they have the construction capacity to truly challenge us, nor the capability to match our science levels. Not in a realistic time frame, at least.

  Phazarax nodded, but deep inside he was more concerned. He didn’t think the enemy could prevail, not exactly, but he was expecting a much harder fight than Tesserax. Still, he didn’t express anything further. “Of course, you are correct, Tesserax…but I am still concerned that the enemy will prove to continue to be a harder target than we expected. Perhaps we should wait longer…after all, we have ten more of the large imperial hulls under construction.”

  “You believe we should wait for those? They have been under construction for less than six months. It will be three years, give or take, until they are done. Would you really wait so long? And what would the enemy accomplish in three years? Again, nothing that threatens us materially, but three years will allow them to build a lot of ships, even with half of the Hegemony’s space occupied by us.” Tesserax paused for a moment and looked at his companion. “No, we can’t allow three years to go by…the enemy will only gain in technology and learn to use what we have, and they don’t yet possess. They will be harder to defeat in three years, not easier.”

  Phazarax listened to his comrade’s words, and he realized suddenly that Tesserax was as worried as he was, at least on some level. He couldn’t admit it…not even fully to himself, but Phazarax suddenly understood that his cohort was more concerned about where the enemy was going to go than where he was now.

  And as he thought about that, his own perspective changed, and he wondered, was he right…or was he wrong? Did it make more sense to attack the enemy immediately, with everything they had?

  He realized Tesserax, rightly or wrongly, had decided that was the case. And for himself, he just didn’t know.

  He didn’t know at all.

  * * *

  Percelax sat quietly, considering his situation. He had a decent number of Highborn ships ready, as well as a surprising number of Union hulls. It had been almost enough to lead him forward.

  Almost.

  Two things held him back. First, the minimal information he’d been able to receive on the enemy. Their base was still mostly destroyed—though even sections of that were back in the mix—but their fleet was more powerful even than it had been for the first battle. He’d come close to winning that, he knew, and he figured his chances in a second would be better. He might have gone in, save for the second consideration, which was the size of the force advancing to meet him. With those ships, he would almost certainly prevail, and he might even do so with enough power to advance fairly far into Confederation space after the battle. He wouldn’t take out the whole Confederation—at least he didn’t believe he would have enough strength to do that—but he might advance far enough to cut off the flow of ships and supplies to the main fleet.

  And that would be decisive.

  Truly cutting the enemy forces into two pieces would set them up to be more easily destroyed. The main enemy fleet was still posted in Hegemony space, and while he threatened the heart of the Confederation, he lacked the strength to take out the enemy completely, but just maybe he could cut the line of new ships out to the main fleet. He could just sweep away the defensive forces and cut off the source of the Confederation’s reproductive resources…and that would be enough. The true victory would fall on Tesserax, and on the main fleet, which would advance after the remains of the enemy forces…and join up with his own ships. He would generate praise too, he knew that, but he was also aware that the bulk of the glory would fall on the theater commander, Tesserax. He was okay with that, mostly at least. He knew that the larger forces, on both sides, would clash on the primary front…but, still, he also knew his fleet would at least imperil the main enemy production areas. And that would be enough.

  He would get a large amount of the praise, if less than he deserved. His realization that Tesserax was one of the first class of the Highborn, those called the Firstborn, was substantial, and he couldn’t help but look up to him, as much as he also felt petty jealousy.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Enter.”

  The door opened, and Villieneuve walked inside. The Union leader was far easier to deal with since he’d been encollared…but Percelax still remembered how much trouble the man had given him before he was given the Collar, and he still resented him, quite a bit.

  “You sent for me?” Villieneuve spoke meekly.

  “Yes, Villieneuve, I did. We will be hitting the enemy again in approximately two months, and I wanted to discuss the status of the Union forces. Your fleet units that fought with us were virtually obliterated, but a few have been adequately repaired to return to battle. We have also been able to commandeer a number of ships that had already been under repair—as well as a small number of newly finished units, mostly begun by your defeated enemies. I believe your forces for the coming fight will actually exceed those you possessed in the previous battle, at least by a modest amount. And that is a surprise…indeed.”

  “Yes, I agree with your assessment entirely. My guess is that in two months, we will have approximately 125% of the power we possessed in the last fight. As much as 140%, if we include battered but still partially functional hulls.”

  “No, I think 125% will suffice, especially since we will have in excess of 250% of the Highborn ships. Your percentage of the vessels involved will be a lesser portion of the total than last time, even if they are more overall, but they will still represent a sizable amount of fleet’s combat readiness.” It was a statement without meaning, since ‘a sizable amount of the fleet’s combat readiness’ was far from a specific term. One percent could be considered that much, or twenty percent couldn’t be. Percelax guessed that the Union forces would be about fifteen percent of the total, or perhaps twelve. He didn’t consider that vital…but he was glad to have whatever he could get.

  “Our forces will fight hard, Percelax…you can be sure of that.”

  “I know they will, Villieneuve.” Percelax wasn’t sure of that, not at all. He had more of the Collar deployed than he had before the last battle, and most of the Union’s senior officers had been so equipped. But the bulk of the rank and file had not, not yet at least, and he wondered if they would obey their commanders no matter what they were ordered to do…or if they would stand up and refuse. Union history suggested they would do what they were ordered to do, but Percelax wasn’t sure…and he calculated the odds both with and without the Union allies. Another reason he had decided to wait for the next batch of ships from home.

  Still, he had to make sure Villieneuve was ready, assuming he used the Union forces. “I wanted to discuss the plan with you, Villieneuve, and make sure you are ready for…whatever we decide to do.”

  Chapter Six

  Forward Base Striker

  Vasa Denaris System

  Year 329 AC (After the Cataclysm)

  Andi Lafarge stepped out of the hull, walking down the long, plank to the enclosed section of Striker. The base still had massive areas that were basically a wreck, but she had to admit, there was more work done than she’d expected, just in the time that she’d been away…less than three weeks. For an instant, she told herself they could actually be ready to face the enemy when he came back, but the thought only lasted for a few seconds, before it gave way to her normal state.

  As she walked down the corridor, she could see huge sections of the structure that hadn’t even been touched yet. Tyler Barron had driven his people to do more than even Andi had expected, but he hadn’t been able to truly escape the severe amount of construction that lay ahead of him. Despite his incredible effort, after a passing moment, it was perhaps even clearer to Andi that she was right, that there was no way to win…no way except the deadly effort she was pursuing.

  Assuming it works, of course…and we’re able to get it spread throughout their forces.

  She realized almost immediately that even her opinion, her dedication to completely destroy the enemy, relied on several things. The effectiveness of the formula was only the start. If the first attack was successful, if the enemy was killed—and killed entirely, since nothing less would likely work—that was only the first step. The second effort, and possibly the largest one of them, would follow. She knew she didn’t have to get every one of the enemy…that would likely be impossible. But she had to get enough, including on many of their ships. That was going to be difficult, very difficult…even if the weaponry she had deployed to date worked quickly.

  And all the more so, since the enemy would react as soon as they knew. She was amazed that they didn’t seem to expect anything of the sort yet. After all, they were defeated earlier by the same means. She knew they thought differently of the empire than they did of the remaining civilizations, but she also realized that her people had moved very far in the past ten years. Between the provision of the Hegemony’s generally superior tech, to the use of Colossus, and the advancement that went along with it, the Confederation and its allies had come far…and fast. They still weren’t the equal of the empire, of course, but they were a lot closer than they’d been only ten years earlier…and getting closer every day.

  She led most of the crew off the cruiser that had been her flagship for the near-month of the total mission. She was just relieved to see that the enemy had not attacked. Yet. She knew there were a lot of questions about her chosen strategy against the enemy, but to her the biggest one was, would she have time?

  That overlooked a lot of course, not the least of which was whether the operation would get its go ahead at all.

  “Andi!”

  She saw Tyler up ahead. She wasn’t surprised to see him, not exactly, but the time away had built up some kind of question as to what to expect. She knew he had agreed to the test mission, but she was aware that his thoughts hadn’t changed. But of course, he’d gone almost a month without Andi as a result. She didn’t try to convince herself that they had reached any sort of agreement…but she still felt a rush of her own as she saw him.

  “Tyler!” She rushed up, knowing he was one of her biggest adversaries, at least in the sense of what to do, but at the moment, wanting only to take him in her arms. She rushed up and hugged him, even as he did the same. There was something missing, perhaps, in the embrace, but there was a lot still there as well.

  “I’m so glad to see you.” Tyler was genuine, though again, there was a bit of hesitation in his tone. Andi knew she faced a challenge convincing him to go full in against the enemy…and she realized that he thought the same way about her. She was sure she couldn’t be moved though…and she had the hope that he could. After all, he would surely do everything possible to wipe out the enemy if it was the only way to prevail. She already believed it was the only way—though she would have done it anyway—and she was sure his thoughts, his opinion that his forces could hold on somehow, were just the result of his military career.