"Sound the combat alert!" The siren wailed. It’s not like my ship could’ve just come out in regular space. That’d be too easy.
Reports and comments from the staff officers rained down one after the other. I hardly had enough time to read through them all.
"The ship isn't answering standard identification system requests!"
"Distance to target: one hundred miles. It appears to be a Flamberg heavy cruiser."
"Confirmed. It's a Flamberg."
"Search the ship database for that make."
"There is a 97% chance that it is the Payoff, the flagship of the pirate squadron, the Brotherhood of the Stars. They have a base one star system over."
"The Payoff has firepower that exceeds that of any of our flotilla's ships."
"Immediate retreat is recommended!" proclaimed Admiral Sabuto on the basis of the data he was given.
"As you were!!!" I shouted, hurrying to interfere. "All I see is one antiquated heavy cruiser. We've got a whole sixteen ships to go against him!"
"If I may, my Prince, we have fifteen ships, and not one of them is a cruiser," interrupted the admiral.
"Remind me after the battle to have a serious talk with the captain of the delayed cruiser. But there's no time for that now. Even without our late and damaged ships, we've got double that cruiser's firepower. Let's tear him to shreds! All frigates and destroyers on the attack! All power to forward shields!"
A swarm of tiny dots ripped themselves out of place and, quickly gaining speed, made a beeline straight for the enemy. One of the frigates bloomed with the fire of an explosion.
"Curve in on it and change trajectory. Don't let the cruiser's cannons get a clear shot! Do not reduce speed, slow it down and don't let it warp out! If it uses drones, shoot them down the second you see them!"
"We've got it!" came Officer Nicole, providing commentary on the message about the enemy's warp drive being blocked.
"Great! Focus on the cruiser. Let's put some pressure on its shields!"
"There's a message from the enemy ship. They're surrendering!" The communications officer was bewildered and couldn't even believe our luck.
"Cease fire. Send boarding teams, plug up the propulsion drives and deactivate the cannons," said Admiral Kiro Sabuto, now demonstrating the very picture of calm, as if he hadn't recommended turning tail five minutes earlier.
"Congratulations on the victory, admiral," I confirmed, also trying to move past what was undoubtedly not the most heroic moment in the commander's biography. "It looks like our fleet has a new flagship!"
The people in the hall applauded as the enthusiastic screams of our fleet's captains could be heard over the speakers.
Standing change. Empire Military faction opinion of you has improved.
Present Empire Military faction opinion of you: -4 (indifferent)
Messages flashed up about personal relationship improvements with Prince Georg directly from a few players. Among these, I noticed I had received one from the admiral, Lieutenant Nicole Savoia, and even the grumbling space corporal.
"My Prince, incoming call from Princess Marta royl Valesy ton Mesfelle-Kyle," said the communications officer.
Happiness was blowing in like the wind. The crew of the yacht turned out to be surprisingly well informed about my none-too-simple relationship with my spouse.
"Put her through," I demanded, donning my headphones so my underlings wouldn’t have to look down every time I came around after what they'd hear.
I didn't really hear anything new in Marta's five-minute-long, wrathful rant. After the stream of curses and accusations went dry, the plump cow announced that she would be cutting off my income from the Kingdom of Fastel. It seemed to me that she was expecting an immediate apology or for me to debase myself even further begging for forgiveness, but I kept silent, which clearly caught her by surprise. Marta continued a minute longer just to make sure, then started another tantrum with a renewed ire:
"Don't expect any more help from the Kingdom of Fastel! Instead of more ships from my fleet, all you'll get from me are official divorce papers from my lawyers! And how could you trade me in for that dirty whore Miya! If it weren't for Lika being on board, I would gladly leave your yacht in ashes! I don't even want to look at you!"
The call cut off, but I sat there another minute without taking off my headphones as I worked through all the mud that had been slung at me. When I finally did stand up and take a look around, I discovered that none of the officers were working. Instead, they were all silently staring at me. Apparently my facial expression was enough for everyone to figure out that it hadn't been an especially pleasant conversation.
"My Prince, think nothing of it. The only thing these highborn bitches are good for is making trouble," said the same space corporal, as straightforward as ever. Perhaps more than necessary.
"Thank you," I answered. Then I observed to him, "Today, I skimmed through your personal records, Patrick toyl Sven. Allow me to give you some advice, space corporal. Your tongue is your enemy. It is the only reason why at fifty-six years old, you're still the lowest ranked staff officer. You could already be a major based on your merits in battle. But today I need just such an honest man at my side. I invite you today to the small dining hall and warn you in advance that I will be getting drunk as a skunk. All the other ladies and gentlemen here, I value and love you, but you are not invited. I don't want you to see your Prince like that."
"We have completely captured the pirate cruiser! The enemy crew has been placed under arrest!" reported one of the officers in a deliberately vigorous tone, obviously trying to improve my mood. "What are your orders for the captives?"
I didn't have time to answer before another message popped up:
"Algol Hulk, a light cruiser in our fleet has come out of warp." Fifteen minutes was all he needed then...
"Admiral, get me a profile on the captain of that ship," I demanded, turning sharply on my heels to face Kiro Sabuto.
The admiral squinted and looked aside:
"You know my feelings about him, your Highness. Captain Crasav ton Lavaelle is the grandnephew of Count Amelius royl Mast ton Lavaelle from the Green House. His high birth is the only merit that led to him becoming captain of a star cruiser. He's too independent and shows it in every way. The only reason he survived the encounter with the alien ship is because he fled the battle. This is all in my reports, your Highness. I have already made formal complaints about Crasav ton Lavaelle for disobeying direct orders and even recommended he be relieved from his post as captain of Algol Hulk. However, you ignored both of my reports..."
"I need to speak with him this instant," I demanded. A few seconds later, a handsome young dark-haired face came on screen with a magnificent, curled mustache like a hussar.
"My Prince, you have my full attention," came the captain without even a hint of guilt or repentance.
"I ordered all ships in the fleet to warp to Himora at the same time. Explain the reason for your fifteen-minute delay."
"Uhhhh. I never got the order from the communications officer. I wasn't told," Crasav ton Lavaelle lied flagrantly, not fooling me.
"Algol Hulk communications officer!" I demanded. A frightened, twenty-year-old girl with space corporal patches appeared on screen. "Was the order to quickly move the fleet received and transmitted in good time to the captain?"
"I can assure you it was, my Prince," said the girl clearly. "The order was received and transmitted in good time. However, the captain was in the dining hall when he received it and replied that he would be finishing his breakfast first."
"That is untrue! She's lying! She never cared for me!" screeched the captain, and I demanded to be transferred to his first assistant.
The gloomy, middle-aged soldier in a golden uniform was watching some recordings and answered:
"The space corporal is right. According to the log, the order to prepare for relocation was received at eleven forty-three, and was transmitted to the captain eight
seconds thereafter."
"Admiral," I addressed Kiro Sabuto, standing next to me. "Consider your reports reviewed and approved. The captain of Algol Hulk is to be removed from his position on the cruiser and placed under arrest. As soon as we arrive at the Himora station, cut him right the hell loose with nothing but a bag of personal belongings. Let him cry to his crown-wearing grandfather."
"But Himora is in the middle of nowhere. Passenger liners only go there once a month."
"It's nothing. He's a grown man. He'll figure it out. My daughter traversed half the galaxy on her own, and she's an eleven-year-old girl. What's more, an ore carrier, Avaricious Miner, should be at Himora. Let him fly off to his grandfather on it. It's been cleaned and organized especially for him. They even have a prostitute on staff!”
Internal Problems
"Ow… My head is splitting..."
"My Prince, yesterday you allowed yourself an inadvisable amount of alcohol," explained Dr. Nicosid Brandt, as he massaged the active points of my head while rubbing some eucalyptus-scented ointment into my temples.
"Inadvisable, but not unintentional," I said, disagreeing with my doctor. "I wanted to forget after the row with Marta... Ow! That's where it hurts the most. Ooh. Yep, that made it better."
"The after-effects of alcohol consumption should pass within half an hour of taking the medicine. But the overworked muscles will ache at least another five days. There are a number of micro-tears and a great deal of lactic acid. Perhaps you'd like a painkiller after all?"
"No, don't worry about that. Everything is how it's supposed to be."
I refused further treatment and left the hospital wing of the yacht, trying to come to grips with an important matter that had been bothering me since I first woke up. My first conscious thought this morning wasn't regret at the strong hangover, but actually confusion. Exactly that: confusion! Basically, I presumed, I was even totally sure, that after a full work-day in the game, I'd fall asleep and wake up in the real world. How could it work any other way? I put in a whole day, and I did a good job too. I even died once! But when I woke up again, I was still in the game! How the hell? When are they going to let me finish my shift and leave the game?
But, on the other hand, I felt completely rested and was getting ready to spend the whole day learn-learn-learning, just as a certain bald revolutionary politician had once instructed. Nevertheless, I was interrupted just before I could start.
"Incoming call from an encrypted channel in Swarm territory," remarked the communications officer. "Should I put them through?"
I answered in the affirmative, and an Alpha Iseyek appeared on screen. It clearly wasn't Triasss Zess. This new one was a darker color and had all its appendages.
"Good health to you, Princcce Geor-g roul Ee-noki. I are Admiral Kheraisss Vej. Are control Swarm flit. Is two of. Flit Yuho and flit Ayho. Swarm order me go serve flit Eight Sector. I am wait command, my Princcce."
"Nice to meet you, Admiral Kheraisss Vej. How many ships do you have at your command?"
The praying mantis turned his head on its side. As I already knew, this pose meant that he was perplexed and had no idea what was going on. The admiral must have had trouble understanding something in my question. I decided to put it more simply:
"In your fleet: how many ships and what classes? Will there be backup? And when can you come to join my fleet?"
The praying mantis became visibly happy and answered:
"With me, flit Yuho. Legash type ship: one. Umoyge type ship: four. Vassar type ship, rocket: two, laser: nine. Safa type ship: five. Tria: one, but full load. Flit Ayho is come one day you. Three Legash type ship, all improved. Four Vassar rocket. After, I comes to Princcce for order. Backup Swarm to give broke Uukresh. No place Swarm fix dockyard. Ship with propulsion, but much broken."
I even had to call up a hint to have any idea what the Admiral was saying. Legash, what's a Legash... But the ship database wasn't giving me anything. I had to answer the praying mantis without having all the information:
"Admiral, all those ships must be quickly relocated to the Tesse system. That's where the closest dockyards capable of repairing your ships are. When can you be in Tesse?"
The praying mantis grated his mandibles and said:
"Four days, all ship, but no Uukresh. For Uukresh need tug and escort. That ship is too break and vulnerable for trip without convoy. Risk is no can. To move only when tug and guard to come."
"Great, I'll wait for your other ships at the meeting point, and find a tug and other ships to accompany your valuable Uukresh."
The Admiral bowed exactly like a person, then signed off. I set straight off for my fleet headquarters.
"Ladies and gentlemen, hello. Who among you has an understanding of Iseyek ship classifications and Swarm terminology? I want to know what a Legash is."
The staff officers began looking from one to another hesitantly. Then Lieutenant Nicole, just like a school girl in class, raised her hand and offered an answer:
"My Prince, my apologies. It sounded like you were saying “Legatsh.” It's an antiquated Iseyek heavy cruiser for circular combat. It's not like the heavy assault cruisers people have with reinforced shields and most cannons in the front hemisphere. It has an equally distributed shield and has 360-degree shooting capability. In Imperial classification they are called Swarm Vandal heavy cruisers. They have proven not very effective in modern combat due to the practical impossibility of firing with all cannons and are considered outdated."
"Thank you, Nicole. Maybe you can answer another question for me while you're at it. What's an 'improved Legash?'
The girl shook her head in embarrassment. Admiral Kiro Sabuto answered in her place:
"My Prince, there have been rumors that the Iseyeks created a replacement for their antiquated circular combat cruisers, taking into account their experience of half a century of war with us. Our intelligence has noted several modified cruisers in Swarm territory.
The Admiral quickly tapped his fingers on the touch screen and sent a few pictures to my display. Silhouettes and photos with tables: Vandal-2 heavy cruiser, Vandal-3 heavy cruiser, and Vandal-4 heavy cruiser.
"Unfortunately, we have very little data," admitted the admiral. "Experts note only a basic reinforced shield and an array of changes in the cruiser's appearance. Its combat characteristics are unknown."
"Then, we'll find out for ourselves. In four days, we'll see four of these Iseyek cruisers with our own eyes!"
I was expecting a flurry of happiness from the officers, but for some reason their reaction was strangely spooked. The reason my team was acting that way was revealed when one of my tacticians cautiously asked:
"My Prince, will we be fighting with or against the Swarm ships?"
"With," I said, calming everyone down. "What's more, these ships will be joining our fleet. It's the Swarm’s contribution to the defense of Perimeter Sector Eight."
Then a thunder of overjoyed shouts started in earnest. Everyone came to life and began smiling. I walked up to Nicole and addressed her:
"Lieutenant, given that you have a better idea than most about praying mantis ship names, illuminate me all at once. What are ‘umoyge,’ ‘vassar,' 'safa,' 'tria' and 'uukresh?'"
After a second of strained thought, the girl’s face changed to uninhibited joy:
"Umoyge is a Swarm light cruiser specialized in electronic warfare. Vassar isn't the name of one model of ship, it's a type of ship. They're support ships. Something between our light cruisers and destroyers. There are all kinds of different Vassars. There are rocket Vassars, anti-rocket Vassars, electronic warfare Vassars, shield support Vassars, cloaked Vassars, anti-frigate Vassars, and lots more. As for Safas, they're little ships. Frigates, in our classification. And as for the last two names, I don't know," she said, beginning to blush.
"Then this question is for everyone. The Iseyeks are sending us a fully loaded Tria and a 'very broken Uukresh.' Who can help their Prince figure out what to prepar
e for?"
All staff went silent and looked at the floor. I had to lend some spirit of liveliness to the lazy swamp that had taken hold around my table:
"No, ladies and gentlemen, that's not how it goes. You understand that I am capable of finding the answer myself. But then I'll start wondering why the hell I have twenty assistants at my fleet headquarters, if none of them can find the answer to a pretty easy question! I'm giving you until six this evening to find the answer: what we should be preparing for, and what docks we are going to need for the Tria and the Uukresh. Whoever answers first will get an acknowledgment in their personal file and a valuable prize from the very hand of an Imperial Crown Prince. If anyone doesn't give me the answer, that person will have to redo their qualifications and retake the exams in all Space Combat Academy disciplines, starting with Physical Education and ending with the combat characteristics of all ships from the Empire and all nearby races!"
I was already half way out the door when I stopped and turned sharply because of something I remembered.
"Lieutenant Nicole, yesterday I received your detailed report on the timeline of the battle at the Vorta beacon. Unfortunately, I have not yet had the time to familiarize myself with your calculations and conclusions, but I promise you I will. In any case, I'm satisfied with the work you've done, and the knowledge you've demonstrated today. Take the rest of the day off. That's an order. Also, what I said about retesting peoples' qualifications does not apply to Admiral Kiro Sabuto. I hope everyone realizes that. I expect all other officers' reports by six tonight. Everyone must do the work on their own without their colleagues' help. Admiral, make sure they do! A big war is coming, and I need the best of the best in my fleet, so you're all going to have to prove why you’re here!”
Sector Eight (Perimeter Defense: Book #1) Page 8
