Gaston Villieneuve and the Union had been, first and foremost, an ideal conquest, one accomplished with astonishingly little force. If he’d known how well his forces would have done there, Phazarax would have dispatched more Collars with them. He knew he would catch up eventually, but for the moment, most of the Union spacers were not so equipped. Another reason to wait.

  “I agree, Tesserax. While I do not think failure is likely, I do not see the offensive at this time to be anything approaching critical.” Phazarax agreed with Tesserax, at least in the most part.

  He had no doubt that the Confeds were now in every way the foremost of the powers standing against the Union, a distinct change since the top position had been occupied by the Hegemony. His data on how many ships the Confeds had held back versus how many it had advanced to the primary theater was less complete than he would have liked…but it didn’t really matter. Whatever happened in the Union sector was secondary, and therefore, not really essential.

  The true result will be determined here, in the main sector.

  “Still,” Tesserax said softly, “I wonder if sending word to the forces present in the Union to stand down makes sense. They cannot harm us by acting, even if they cannot do so by remaining in place either.”

  Tesserax spoke calmly. He was the leader of the entire war, and it was his place to sound confident. Phazarax reminded himself that he was confident as well. He feared more trouble from the enemy, perhaps, more difficulty in completing the conquest than his friend. But he didn’t exactly see any chance the humans would actually prevail…just that the total conquest would prove more difficult than expected. Which, of course, it already had.

  Phazarax more or less discussed every major operation with Tesserax, but he accepted that his primary purpose, the appeasement of occupied populations, was paramount to him. Part of his motivation for that, most of it, in fact, was based on the realization that it was simply true. In point of fact, Phazarax was behind on his own schedule, more so than anyone knew. He told himself that was because Tesserax hadn’t delivered the systems quickly enough, and while there was some truth to that, he had to acknowledge, at least to himself, that the enemy was just difficult to contain.

  He had suffered somewhat on his own, but he had still performed far better than Tesserax had. He didn’t exactly wish ill prospects on his partner, not at all actually. But if one of them had to look bad, it didn’t take long to figure out who it should be.

  “I believe that it will be best to delay the secondary operation, Tesserax…” And mostly, he did. But he also suspected that without considerable success soon, his partner just might be replaced. He had hidden his own problems well enough that he probably wouldn’t be switched out along with Tesserax, but he liked his associate, and despite a few concerns, he preferred things to remain the way they had been. And it was better for both of them to avoid any heavy glances from above. “…but I just want to state that this next assault—the main one, I mean—will have to show considerably more gain than the last one. The action in the Confederation is secondary, and it can be postponed.”

  The room was silent for a moment. Then Tesserax responded, on a totally different topic. “I believe the initial scans and readings on the humans were incorrect. They are a more difficult opponent than we expected, especially the Rim-dwellers.” A pause, only a few seconds. “That said, I do believe we are finally able to launch a decisive attack. We will take the remnants of the enemy’s station and drive them from the system. Our regular fleet is probably sufficient to accomplish this, but the four new ships definitely are. The offensive in enemy space can wait. I believe that if we send an order of that type now, it will arrive shortly after the latest reinforcements…and in time to take effect.”

  Phazarax nodded. Again, he agreed with most of what his friend had said. Certainly, the four new ships, the most powerful on either side, would make a huge difference. The enemy’s single vessel of comparable size and power had been blasted almost to a wreck…and even given the best possible repair efforts, it could only be very moderately returned to duty, if that. He also considered the fact that the enemy had put that ship up against the first of the copies…and they won the fight between the two vessels, if by the smallest margin. That was a reckoning, that the enemy possessed the edge, at least in combat between nearly identical forces. Worse, perhaps, the human version of the ship was old, more than three centuries. The Highborn version, on the other hand, was brand new…and yet it lost, if only by a small margin.

  At least that ship would be out of the next fight…or it would move in, expecting to be the only monster of its kind…and it would be faced with four fully operational versions. Either way, it wouldn’t be a major part of the battle, not really. And Phazarax knew that was good…because the humans were racing toward imperial-level technology, and they would reach it soon. Another reason to win the war as quickly as possible.

  “I agree, Tesserax…with the caveat that we must win this fight soon.” Again, although his own progress was also below initial expectations, it was better than Tesserax’s. He might survive his companion’s fall…but he didn’t want to chance it. “We must at least take the base this time and drive the enemy from the rest of the Hegemony. At least.” His voice became serious, and he looked across the open area, staring right at his friend.

  Tesserax returned his gaze, and he said simply, “I know.” A few seconds passed, and then Tesserax said again, “I know.”

  * * *

  Percelax sat quietly, analyzing the approaches. He had three ways he could go to reach Grimaldi, three routes that all closed on the immense fortress. The once immense fortress, he thought. He knew that the enemy was rapidly repairing it, but he also realized that even a Herculean effort would fall short in less than several years. The enemy might get more done than he expected, but they would never complete more than a small part of the total job…not in the time he was going to give them.

  That amount, the time, was fixed now. He’d had to estimate the arrival of the last convoy of warships sent from home, but now he knew exactly where the ships were…in the Union itself. They were still a dozen transits away, but that was nothing at all compared to the distance they had come. And it meant his assault could begin in less than a month…perhaps as little as three weeks. He could use the time to prep the rest of his fleet, though he’d pretty much kept his forces ready to attack the instant the new ships arrived.

  “Commander…we have brought Villieneuve to see you.”

  Percelax nodded to the Highborn. He didn’t have many of them in his force, less than an eighth as many as the main fleet. He’d decided to maintain good relations with all of them, even though he knew many of them hoped for casualties among them…and the requisite increase in rank. The Highborn commanded ships at least, or they filled roles in his command structure…and they advanced almost uniformly when one of them was killed. That worked, of course, for everyone but him, the commander of the theater.

  And anyone already higher-ranked than the lost Highborn…

  He was the only one whose death would allow every one of the Highborn in his command to advance, and he never forgot that. The forces assembled under him didn’t exactly hope for heavy casualties among the Highborn…but it was a way to advance, and for most of his top personnel, probably the only way, in the short term at least.

  “Bring in Mister Villieneuve.”

  “Yes, sir.” A moment later, Villieneuve entered.

  “Mister Villieneuve…greetings.” The sound of the Highborn’s voice was respectful, but it was only lip service. None of his people saw the humans as anything except tools, certainly not individually. He didn’t either, but he demanded some level of responsiveness from his Highborn, and he decided to set the standard himself.

  His attitude toward Villieneuve had changed somewhat in recent months. He still remembered the man’s insolence before his Collar was installed, with some anger. But he had to admit, since the installation of the control device, the leader of the Union had gotten downright pliable…to him at least.

  “Greetings, Commander Percelax.” The tone was perfect. Villieneuve was as gruff as ever with his Union forces, perhaps even worse than he’d been before. But he was the perfect gentlemen with Highborn.

  “I wanted to update you on the situation. We will be attacking Grimaldi again in approximately three weeks. I want you to use that time to assemble as much of your fleet as possible. Any ships that can be done and here in time—even if they’re not one hundred percent complete—should be here.” This was a change from Percelax’s original planning, but he understood that the enemy was stronger than he might have anticipated…and he was going to bring all he could to bear.

  “Very well, Commander Percelax. I believe that we have a number of ships close enough within a range of 90-95% completion. Three weeks including transit time will reduce the number of ships considerably, but with your permission, I believe I can assemble a fair quantity.”

  “Very well, Villieneuve…go now and assemble all you can. We will leave in approximately three weeks. We will hit the enemy hard, and we will prevail.” He gestured for the human to leave, without any further communication and, after a bow, he did. Then, he exchanged glances with the Highborn still present. His intention was the same as with Villieneuve, but the Highborn didn’t get it as well. Not until he said,” Go now…I want some time alone.”

  He watched the Highborn leave, and he wondered about whether the superiorities his people felt above the humans were factual. But such a thought only lasted for a moment. Then he dove right into thinking about the offensive…and about the forces he was likely to have available. And how they were very likely superior to those he would meet.

  * * *

  “I appreciate your presence, Phazarax. You could have justified staying away, and I will remember that you did not.” Tesserax spoke softly. It wasn’t long after their last encounter, but he had noticed that his—friend, he guessed, though he still wasn’t sure—had remained. He’d considered ways to handle Phazarax that still defended against any effort by his companion to challenge him, but he’d decided that he had to simply hope his counterpart remained genuine. He was the cockier of the two most of the time, and he did expect to prevail in the coming fight, by every measure he could calculate. But he’d begun to worry at least somewhat about what surprises the enemy might have left to unveil.

  “This force is the greatest we have presented to the enemy, Tesserax…even without the four great ships. With them, I can’t imagine that the enemy will stand. I will be honest, I am still worried about the campaign in its totality, especially if a large portion of the enemy fleet escapes, but I am not truly concerned about the battle.” Phazarax was silent for a moment, then he added, “If I may suggest one thing, Tesserax…perhaps the new ships would be best deployed in the rear. Or at least back from the front lines at first. When the enemy realizes we have four ships of that type, I can’t imagine that they won’t pull back immediately…and I think the more we can draw them in, the better chance we have of wearing them down.”

  “Your opinion matches mine, Phazarax. The ships are well back. They will not even transit until the battle is joined…and if the enemy decides to pull back once they detect them, they will already be engaged. At best, they will suffer terribly. At worst—for them at least—they will be virtually destroyed.”

  “I agree completely with your thinking, Tesserax. Completely.” He did. Phazarax knew he was the more conservative of the two commanders deployed to eliminate the human threat…but he genuinely did not see a way to lose the coming fight. He could envision the enemy perhaps pulling out in better shape than he expected…but there was no way his vision could encompass a human victory. Even with his realization of previous encounters, and the unforeseen enemy actions, he believed that this time, at least, the forces Tesserax had assembled, were more than sufficient. He was not ready to see victory in the war, at least not without some considerable amount of fighting, but he did believe that the coming fight would be a profound victory.

  “I go out now to order the transit into enemy space. Would you care to come with me?”

  Phazarax hesitated a moment. Tesserax was definitely different. He knew it was the time the campaign had already taken—far more than expected—and the uncertainty about the humans, and about just how much he would have to crush them to secure their total defeat. He knew his companion, perhaps better now than anyone else, and he was sure Tesserax would return somewhat to his old style once the battle was over, and hopefully the situation was noticeably better. But Tesserax wouldn’t entirely forget the difficult fight the humans had put up…and that would be enough for Phazarax.

  “I would be delighted, Tesserax. Let us go and take the enemy fortress. Whatever remains of the enemy after the fight, it will be a major victory.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Forward Base Striker

  Vasa Denaris System

  Year 329 AC (After the Cataclysm)

  Barron sat still, silent…waiting. He had a million things to do, but his mind was stuck on Stockton. He’d spent the first hour sitting in the room outside the surgery center, but then he’d realized the operation was going to take hours. Hours.

  He finally broke free, came to his office and tried to work on the other things he had to do. Unfortunately, he could only work for a few minutes before his mind went back. Stockton was a close friend, very close. He had given in to Stockton’s wishes because he’d known it was the only way…but now that it was underway, he second-guessed himself. He knew he couldn’t blame anyone else if the surgery went poorly. He hadn’t let anyone know about it, almost no one save the doctors and the rest of the medical staff. He told himself now that he should have convinced Stockton to wait a few more years, that the situation would have been better, but he realized he didn’t know that. Not really. In fact, he honestly thought now was as good a time as ever, especially since he expected things would likely get worse, not better.

  Most of all, he realized he had reacted to how well he knew Stockton, which was enough to tell him his friend couldn’t endure years longer. The right answer was varied for different people, but he was sure he’d made the right choice for Stockton.

  Most of the time, at least.

  He pushed through some of the paperwork on his desk, piles of manifests, reports on new production—and on the division now in place that sent him only about two-thirds of the production of the shipyards. He knew why that was. He’d even agreed with it, one hundred percent. At least when he thought of himself in terms of the joint command, which he did most of the time. But there were moments when his own position enveloped his overall point of view…and he realized that he could lose in both places, when he might have at least won on the primary front if he’d delivered all the new ships to his location.

  That was not true of course. If he’d sent all of the ships to his current location, he would have left the backward path totally open…and the enemy would have scurried forward and taken out his source of all supplies. The overall situation was far worse even than he allowed himself to believe, but he realized the backward position was as important as the forward one, perhaps even more so, at least in some ways.

  But mostly, his mind went back to Stockton, again and again. One instant he was glad for what he’d done, and ready to face off the pressure he knew would mount as soon as anyone else found out about it. The next, he was almost ready to call down, to see if it was too late to stop—which by then, of course, it was.

  A soft buzz went through the air. For an instant, he was unmotivated, but then it repeated itself. He looked down at his desk and slapped down on the small control. “Yes?”

  “Jake…it’s Andi.”

  He was surprised. Once, he might have expected it was her, but the relationship between the two had grown quite—strange—in recent months. It was no secret they had become poster children for two sides of the same debate…and as much as they had remained together, they had also come apart.

  He pressed the button, opening the door. “Andi,” he said, trying to hide his surprise, but failing to do so, at least enough for someone who knew him so well.

  “Tyler…” Her words were as forced as his. It was the most difficult meeting he could recall between them, and as much as he knew why that was the case, he felt the urge to find a way back.

  “Andi…I…” As much as he wanted to get past what had troubled them, he found himself stuck. He didn’t know who had more support, but he was sure it was moving in her direction. Perhaps she had the majority already…and honestly, if he lost any of the strength he had, he was dead. He was probably dead already.

  “Tyler…I wanted to talk to you, to try to work this out. We both want the same thing. We both care about the Confederation, about the future. It’s just how we get to it that differs.”

  “That’s true, Andi.” The words came out of him, almost without effort. But then he went silent for a moment, realizing that she had expressed a valid concern, but not any real proposal. “I’m just not sure how we can do that.”

  “I wasn’t either. I’m still not, but honestly…I can’t just ignore you, and our relationship. I know you feel like you have a real chance, and I understand why.” There was a short gap, and then Andi continued. “But I wanted to say, it will be another month before I can do anything, anyway. There is no way of knowing whether that month will see an enemy attack, but we’re both on the same vein until then. I will work with you any way I can for that month. I can’t promise beyond that, but for now, I think a month is something worthwhile, at least.”