“Everywhere we go, we find another pile of wreckage!”

It wasn’t often Captain Jason Hunter’s voice thundered, but when it did, it got attention.

“Southern Banner brass is on the warpath, and alien fleets are not their enemy! This is the third incident! Three times we’re trailing the rear-most formations and get our team on the field just in time to miss the war!” Hunter tossed the most recent after-action report tablet on the war deck’s light-table. It clattered menacingly. “And then we have no choice but to turn tail and run!”

None of the assembled officers were willing to challenge Hunter’s admittedly hostile interpretation of the events in the Core Seven system. His evaluation may have been strident, but it was accurate.

“Now I want to know what’s going to be done about it, because if this command gets one more runner-up trophy I’m going to start throwing bodies out the door!”

Lieutenant Commander Zony Tixia spoke quietly and was quickly cut off. “Sir, shouldn’t the other captains–”

“I deliberately limited this group to Argent personnel only. I want to hear from my senior staff first. Hostile enemies are now mustering in no fewer than four systems. We have a front that extends almost seventeen light years and our enemies are closing in. Now hear this: Argent will punch a hole in that front, and we will turn the tide of this war or we will die trying. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir.” Master Chief Buckmaster replied. It was long tradition the responsibility of speaking for the crew fell to the master chief. Aside from the executive officer and captain, he was at the top of the chain of command for the largest number of the ship’s crew members. He wasn’t the voice of the ship, but he was definitely in contention to be its beating heart. The sound of his resolve and his years of courageous service was encouraging.

“I want an action plan, and we’re going to start with what’s on this table. I don’t care how many tons come after us and I don’t care how many guns are pointed at us. This command will not retreat another yard. What is our status?”

“Powers got two out of three,” Commander O’Malley replied. “They hit Core Seven. They hit Manassas. The question is how long do we have before the war gets to Siege Island?”

“At this point, the strike could come from any of three directions,” Commander Annora Doverly said. “There are strategic enemy fleet deployments at Rho Theta, El Rey and now Core Seven, leaving aside their new fighter platforms.”

“They took San Cristobal,” Hunter seethed. “We abandoned a ship of the line. Why?”

It was Colonel Moody’s turn. “That was my decision, sir.”

Hunter’s red-hot attention focused on his marine commander. “Explain.”

“All my life I’ve been taught to use the word ‘evil’ as an adjective where appropriate. Most people seem to abandon the concept when they reach what they think is adulthood. They never give it a second thought, because the word conjures images of maniacal cartoons most of the time.”

Annora didn’t say a word. She knew exactly what was coming. Moo looked his captain directly in the eyes.

“But what I saw aboard that ship changed my opinion, sir. Now I use the word ‘evil’ as a noun, and if we have to sacrifice a ship of the line to avoid bringing whatever we saw aboard San Cristobal back here to Alliance space, so be it.”

“What are you saying? They aren’t a military force?”

Commander Cochrane O’Malley looked similarly confused. “If not military, what are they?”

“It wasn’t just a physical presence we encountered. There’s something in the metal and in the air on that ship. The whole deck bleeds malevolence. We shot creatures at practically point blank range and they just kept coming. One after another. There was nothing in their eyes but rage and death.”

“What kind of creatures?” Hunter asked, his tirade lessened somewhat by concern for Argent’s marine commander and his unusual story.

“They are about as far from human as you can get,” Annora said. “Faster than anything that size I’ve ever seen. If we hadn’t known the layout of the airlock deck we wouldn’t have escaped.”

“We had sixty seconds to spare, if that,” Moo added.

“Are we certain no such forces were present on San Cristobal’s escorts?” O’Malley asked.

“Aye,” Zony replied. “If there were such creatures aboard they abandoned ship before we launched our recovery operation.”

“But those ships fired on Valiant and the strike group,” O’Malley countered.

“At some point they were crewed, but all of Task Force 156‘s ships aside from San Cristobal were empty when our boarding parties arrived.”

“Colonel, are we ever going to get to the line of scrimmage in time to engage the enemy?” Hunter snapped.

“Sir?”

“Every time I order boarding parties to secure another ship, my enemy is absent. Who’s ass do I have to kick to get my marines on the field on time against an enemy they can engage and kill?”

Moo looked pained, but he met the question head-on. “We’ll get them next time, sir. You can count on it.”

“I hope you’re right, colonel. Skywatch isn’t paying us to be a clean-up crew. What is the makeup of the Rho Theta force?” Hunter asked, directing his words at the weapons officer. His less pointed tone reduced the volume and lowered the temperature a degree or two.

“Their formation anchor units are almost all Yersian heavies with new construction,” Lieutenant Devon Leach replied. “Support and escort platforms are a witches brew of Kraken, Sarn and Yersian with a few mercenary ships thrown in for good measure. Almost all the transports Constitution engaged were Sarn. There’s a better than average chance they’ll take a swipe at Jenner’s Star or Proxima before they move beyond the Missouri Gate.”

“Rho Theta is also now a forward deployment for 22 divisions of surface troops,” Lieutenant Colonel Moody added. “They have armor, mobile base units, artillery and orbital fire support including automated platforms. The only planet they haven’t conquered is Rho Theta Five, and that’s because they weren’t prepared for underwater operations.”

“Yet another stranded command,” Hunter said, a tone of bitterness creeping in to his voice. “We’re accumulating those at an alarming clip. Concordant is still adrift somewhere in the El Rey system. Signals Company Eleven is stranded at the Hudson base. God only knows what we left behind in Mycenae Ceti or Atlantis. Or Prairie Grove, for that matter.”

“Then there’s the Sarn flagship.” Annora said it knowing it was not going to be received well. But one of her unique responsibilities among her former squadron mates and now as one of Argent’s department chiefs was to say what needed to be said, hurt feelings and roaring captains notwithstanding.

“If I’d known they were angling to link up with whatever is aboard San Cristobal I would have blown them out of space,” Hunter growled.

“We were in no condition–” O’Malley was cut off as unceremoniously as Hunter’s signals chief.

“Commander, war doesn’t give a damn what condition we’re in, and you and I both know fights don’t last long except in the movies. If we have an opportunity to take the fight to the enemy, we will do so without hesitation. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear, sir.”

“Why is the Sarn flagship doing fly-bys of my star systems, lieutenant?”

He might not have been prepared for Hunter’s outburst, but Argent’s weapons officer was prepared for this particular question. “Show the flag. Rattle the saber. Intimidate the gentle forest creatures.” Leach was correct, but the look on Jason Hunter’s face told him it might not have been a good idea to use the word “intimidate” in front of a battleship captain.

“There was a more important reason for that stunt,” O’Malley said, deftly changing the subject just enough to distract the captain from levitating out of his chair.

Hunter looked up but didn’t speak.

“It was a passive-aggressive way to demonstrate we have insufficient mobile defenses between Rho Theta, the Missouri Gate and Platmore Field,” O’Malley said.

“And apparently we don’t have enough firepower between Manassas and Core Seven either,” Hunter replied. “That might have something to do with the irradiated cloud of junk where Lunar Six One used to be, and it might also have something to do with the fact a Sarn warship traveled from Rho Theta all the way across the frontier from the Missouri gate to Core Seven without a single Alliance warship firing a shot.”

“We’re on the defensive, sir. There’s no question about that.”

“We’re not getting the job done, commander. There’s no question about that either.”

“We did manage to recover most of Task Force 156,” Moo offered.

“The ships, but not the crews,” Doverly countered. “Hundreds of trained men and women up and vanished again. Just like the incident over Bayone.”

“We’ve been instructed not to speculate regarding the possible introduction of Ithis technology into our little war,” Hunter said, tracing designs on the brightly lit and colorful map of Siege Island Three, home to one of Skywatch’s most powerful planetary defense fortresses. It was not hard to guess the captain’s personal opinion regarding that particular directive.

“At least it wasn’t a total loss,” Moo said.

“That’s true, colonel. We got our injured off the field. That doesn’t change the fact we’re five touchdowns behind, and I can tell you they who must be obeyed are getting impatient.” The captain stood. The other officers did as well. “Before I give any orders I have been instructed to make changes to the command structure of this ship. I am also going to be re-assigning other ships in the command to certain priority missions.” Hunter directed his next remarks to the XO. “In the meantime, commander, I want you to convene a strategic pow-wow and provide me with three options for getting us out of God’s little half acre. You have one hour.”

“Understood, captain.”

“Senior flight leaders will report to me in ready room two in ten minutes. Dismissed.”