The My’ral Star System. A remote frontier system in the United Humankind. Just beyond it lay Hania Federation territory; Greater Alkont Republic territory was also nearby. As one might expect, this star system was once a great hub for foreign trade. Commodities and goods were taken here from various UH star systems and accumulated for transport to Hania and Alkont.
Naturally, a large number of ships from both nations were docked there. In order to sell off the extensive cargo, the UH had constructed an artificial planetoid. Since the start of the war, the star system had gotten more and more active. Compared to peacetime trade, the goods “smelled of war,” so to speak, but the amount that needed management and handling had only increased. More goods than the artificial planetoid could totally process were flowing both in and out. It was the heart of the rapid stream of supplies and materials.
It was mainly weapons given as aid by the UH to the Greater Alkont Republic that passed through the My’ral Star System. After Operation Twin Thorns began, that flow became reversed. In order to support the ships that had been cut loose from the core of the UH, cargo had been sent from Alkont. That being said, Alkont had to sustain its own military as well, and so the volume of goods being transported had dropped sharply. And at present, even that much had come to an end.
The vanguard of the Star Forces had passed through the Saudec Mairaler (My’ral Portal) and gained control over the star system. The manmade planet that was the symbol of the systems’ prosperity was now a pitiful shell of its former self, though that was not the work of the Star Forces. The UH government officials who had managed the place had decided to destroy it so as to prevent the enemy from making use of it. However, their concerns had been groundless. The Star Forces were particular about how they waged war, and the thought never crossed their minds to incorporate something the enemy created into their own supply train.
Even without the manmade planet, the My’ral System was serving its role as a Star Forces supply base to perfection. It was flourishing and bustling enough to give the capital a run for its money. The people of the My’ral System had likely never seen this many interstellar ships within its borders in all its history.
“Little wonder the Portal’s so crowded!” said the Ship Commander of the battle-line ship Caïsaumh with admiration.
The strike sub-fleet Gudersec (to which the Caïsaumh belonged) had been made to wait for three days, and had finally been permitted to enter the My’ral Portal. It was then they learned that the star system was hosting a gathering of large fleets.
“Information link complete,” reported Bhonh.
“Excellent, thanks,” said Behrsoht before asking (as he’d been dying to), “Now, do you know what this is all about?”
“It’s not just Twin Thorns Fleet 13 that has been gathered here,” replied Bhonh. “Almost the entireties of Fleets 11, 12, and 14 have also been amassed.”
“Well, I didn’t think it’d just be our fleet here, but Fleet 14, too...” Behrsoht looked overcome with surprise. “Are our flanks okay?”
Byrec Logona Borperr (Twin Thorns Fleet 14) was supposed to be their defense against the Greater Alkont Republic. Knowing that even that fleet was here, he felt uneasy, like their flanks were vulnerable.
“Well, it’s not something for us to worry about,” said Bhonh, as consolation. “Fleet Command must have something in mind.”
“The least you could do is let me openly worry,” he sulked. “I don’t want to get attacked without knowing what’s going on.”
“All right then, sir, please worry to your heart’s content. Incidentally, it seems the name of the fleet will change.”
“A name change?” he said, taken aback. “What’s the new name?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“And here I’d taken a liking to the name twin thorns.”
“We’ll be under that name for a few more days, so please, enjoy it while you can.”
“Enjoy a name?”
“Don’t ask me, sir,” she said, tilting her head.
“That aside, if our name is changing, then our mission is, too.”
“Yes, sir, most likely.”
“Do you know anything about our new mission?”
Bhonh worked the controls and wordlessly showed the Ship Commander her screen, upon which blinked the word “CLASSIFIED.”
Behrsoht shot a meaningful glance Duhier’s way. “Hey, out with it already. What was that business with the Commander-in-Chief, Fïac Lartsor?”
“I can’t say yet, sir,” replied Duhier. “I would be breaching military regulations.”
“I figured as much,” he shrugged his shoulders forlornly. “But it’s not just military regulations, is it? I bet your responsibilities as an Imperial is one of the reasons your lips are zipped.”
Duhier couldn’t answer that directly. “My apologies, sir.”
“Again, don’t apologize.”
“Okay, sir.”
“I guess I have some idea what it was about, anyway.”
“Are you thinking it’s Alkont, sir?” asked Cazzubh.
“That’s one possibility.”
“There are other possibilities, sir?”
“Of course there are.”
“I don’t believe it, sir! The Empire never cooks up wars itself.”
“This is the war to end all wars. These things happen.”
“This isn’t the final war, sir.”
“If my thinking isn’t wrong, this will be humanity’s final war.”
“Do you really think so, sir?”
“Well, yes, I suppose I do.” Behrsoht looked at Duhier again. “But enough of this speculation. Not in front of the guy who knows the answer. He won’t even tell us if we’re on the money.”
“It pains me, too,” Duhier blurted out. And it was the truth.
“Oh, I get you. I get you, Linewing Abliar. How about you mutter the answer to yourself under your breath?”
“I don’t have a habit of talking to myself, sir,” Duhier answered earnestly.
“That’s bad for your mental health. Why don’t you just scribble out the fleet’s new name, at the very least?”
“I don’t have a habit of scribbling, either. Also, I honestly don’t know what the new name will be.”
“But a person from the Imperial Household needs to be used to it,” said Bhonh.
“Used to what?”
“To keeping secrets, sir.”
“What, that? All soldiers understand that as a matter of course. Nobody’s out there flapping their gums about classified material, no matter their position.”
Bhonh gave her superior officer a skeptical look.
“What’s with those eyes?”
“By the way, Ship Commander,” said Bhonh, changing the subject, “it seems we’ll be given a seventy-two-hour break.”
“You should lead with important info like that. Where?”
“Where, sir? The mobile canteen,” she said, astonished he’d ask.
“Lame.”
“What were you expecting, sir? This is a battlefield.”
“Oh c’mon, soldiers fighting the last war there’ll ever be deserve worthier entertainment. You agree, don’t you, Linewing Abliar?”
“I suppose, if the soldiers are indeed fighting the final war,” Duhier replied casually.
“Dammit, couldn’t get you to spill,” said Behrsoht. He looked frustrated.
“Was that question designed to do so?”
“That it was, sir prince. Well, guess that’s an Abliar for you.”
“Oh.” Duhier was perplexed.
Behrsoht changed the subject. “The mobile canteen’s bound to be super crowded, too.”
“Shall we make a reservation?” said Bhonh.
“You’ve a good head on those shoulders.”
“Where shall we make the reservation?”
“Snag us the best room possible. If there’s a gambling house nearby, all the better.”
They’re mixing work and pleasure, Duhier thought, upon seeing Bhonh actually set about making the reservation. That aspect also stuck in his craw.
“Reservation made, sir. The place is named ‘The Swallow.’” Bhonh threw him the memchip.
Behrsoht caught it. “What a stupid name.”
“Then please, do it yourself,” she replied, clearly wounded. “But it’s a minute’s walk away from the gambling house.”
“Good job. I’ll just put up with the name. By the way, when does our time off begin? Don’t tell me it already has.”
“If I tell you it already has, what will you do, sir?”
“Mutiny,” he replied immediately.
“I won’t be a party to your mutiny, sir.”
“I don’t expect anything of you.” Behrsoht patted Duhier on the shoulder. “We’ve got a royal prince.”
“Will you take him hostage, sir?” asked Cazzubh. He shrugged. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Ship Commander.”
“I don’t either. I’d hate to be hauled off to the Hell. I’ll turn to him as our leader.”