Volunian system, Orbit around Planet Volun 4, 378th corps, Third Division Flags.h.i.+p Bereschke.

“Nuts! What is wrong with the world? How could this happen!?” Metternich said as he threw the farview screen on his desk in anger, from reading one of its messages.

It was a reply from the Star Base Zion that said that his s.h.i.+p, the Vampires Vengeance’s release from maintenance would be delayed by an indefinite amount of time.

“Bureaucracy, the most deadly foe of any organization!” he thought to himself.

After calming down, he picked up the farview he had discarded to check for any other messages that he might have received.

The device had to be rebooted, as a result of his previous action, so he impatiently paced the room he was given as his own.

Quickly getting tired with that, he sat down at his desk and started activated the screen monitor to his universas, a magical device designed as a multipurpose tool. One that could be used for just about anything, controlling spells, communications, entertainment, games, or in his case gazing at his armada.

 Boys and they’re toys after all.

Extract from the book “Confessions, an Admirals tale volume I”

I was sitting in my cabin that fateful day, when we started the withdrawal from that near disaster on Volun 4 and as I impatiently waited for the screen on my farview to reboot, I gazed at my universas monitor to view my section of the two fleet groups.

The Heavy s.h.i.+ps Fleet as we dubbed it, was composed out of the Battles.h.i.+ps, Frigates and Carriers of the corps and numbered approximately 64 frigates, 30 battles.h.i.+ps and 36 carriers.

The Light and Medium Fleet was composed of 70 Battle Cruisers, 150 destroyers, 170 corvettes and 80 cruisers.

And finally there where the supply s.h.i.+ps, which numbered about one third of our total number of wars.h.i.+ps and where evenly divided amongst the two fleets.

Normally, one would be delighted to be a part of the heavy s.h.i.+ps in a fleet, but there was one small problem with that.

 Heavy s.h.i.+ps are great in battle, but when you’re running away they’re a nightmare to be in, since they are the slowest in the fleet and speed is essential when you’re exiting stage left!

Now you may think: ‘Oh, but Metty, you’re a N.B.C! A Natural Born Coward, and as everyone knows that makes you Head Dean of the University of Running away, with a Masters Degree from the school of Exit Stage Left and a doctored from the Inst.i.tute of Advance Avoiding of Danger, surely the Great Khan of Cowards has not lost his touch!’.

Well, you see I haven’t! For the reason I chose this fleet was a very simple one. I chose I,t since it had the best chance of escaping the enemy.

 Now, you may think that confirms that I’ve gone nuts and the fact that I’ve ordered that only skeleton crews are to be a.s.signed to pilot the d.a.m.n things, while the rest board the lights, seems to reinforce that suspicion.

 But that’s just goes to show you why I got promoted and others didn’t!

You see, some might think that reducing the crew to the minimal of minimal might be a bad idea, but that’s where its genius s.h.i.+nes! For every s.h.i.+p has inertial dampeners, and for those of you who have been living under rocks for your whole lives (and that’s not an insult to the Imperium’s population of underground city dwellers, it’s just an expression from my planet) inertial dampeners are devices on s.h.i.+ps which have the oh so, very important role of preventing the vessel’s pa.s.sengers and crew from starting a career as abstract art on the s.h.i.+p’s walls.

The more crew you have, the less effective it becomes, but the reverse is also true. With only thirteen or in some cases twenty personal per s.h.i.+p, the Heavys trough a little creative modifications of the warp and sublight engines and sanctuaries had the potential of being faster and even more maneuverable than the Lights, who where now packed with the Heavies’ crews and wounded.

And with a bit of creative maneuvering we could outrun, at least for a while anything the Volunians would throw at us.

The second part of my master plan was to set the s.h.i.+ps in such a disperse formation, that it would leave them vulnerable to even the smallest of light s.h.i.+ps, that where organized enough to pick them off one by one.

The reasoning behind this, was that Admiral Yemen had a reputation as a master of open s.p.a.ce fleet warfare, so when he would see our formation, he would automatically a.s.sume that we where bait, so the lights could escape.

Being as smart as he was, he would no doubt chase after the lights and not take such an obvious bait, so we would be home free, and the lights being fast as they where, would have no problem escaping.

And so it was with glee that I picked up my farview, after it made the sound that indicated it was ready for use and I reviewed my messages.

The first one I read was about what the trapped Volunians and Federals did at the now vacant encirclement, which we had erected along their dome.

 Skimming over the message, I read that it detailed some sort of military blunder on the enemy’s part.

Paid it no mind though, since the Universe has no shortage of morons, doing idiotic things, so I could afford to be picky.

The second message said that the Volunian Fleet had been detected arriving.

The system that belonged to Volun 4 was a C.S. mark 15, and a T.S. mark 7.

For the civvie readers, C.S. means communications speed and T.S. means travel speed.

Making the system we were leaving, having a long range communications speed of 15 times the speed of light and its maximum travel speed was 7 times that of light.

The jump point where the Yemen fleet came, was about 20 standard light days away, meaning that the alert message from the scouting beacon stationed there took about 32 hours to reach us, so Yemen had arrived here a full day and a half ago, and it would take him about 68 hours give or take half an hour to reach the planet.

We had started about two days ago, and from calculating the approximate date at which he arrived in the system, with our position from 32 hours ago, as luck would have it, he had arrived at a very specific moment, when our position was s.h.i.+elded from his pulsar waves by the system’s biggest gas giant.

Thus we continued on a perpendicular trajectory from the gas giant, in such a way that we were still undetectable to Yemen.

And as Yemen was a wise admiral, he took the long way around to Volun 4, in order to avoid any potential ambushes from around the sun, the various asteroid belts and the other orbiting bodies, which by the best estimation of the navigators would mean another 10-12 hours for us.

So, by the time we had finally reached the jump point we had an 80 hour advance on the old taffer!

We spend a few minutes getting organized for the jump, when a message from Yemen reached us; it was an audio message so I pressed the icon for play on the farview.

“Hear me Imperials, I am Yemen. For over five decades and a hundred wars I have faced your fleets, I have fought outmanned and outgunned, and every time I have left your fleets s.p.a.ce dust and now that I have the numbers, the only thing you can do is make peace with your G.o.ds and pray for an eternity in h.e.l.l, for it will be nothing compared to an hour against me!”

The audio message ended  and I asked for a report on the enemy’s numbers from the pulsar officer on duty, that person being Valyria, she quickly sent me a message containing every piece of data, that I could ask for.

It had all kinds of numbers and charts, in regards to their speed, fire power, s.h.i.+p type, efficiency, but I skimmed all that in favor of what interested me the most and namely how many of the b.u.g.g.e.rs where we dealing with!

At the very right corner of the page was their numbers, it read about 350 and I gave out a breath of relief.

“This is Metternich, Valyria tell the crew to dump a bottle of water, a bag of supplies, a map, a s.p.a.ce Compa.s.s and a pair of boots, before we make the jump.”

I transmitted to the bridge and she replied with an enthusiastic ‘Yes sir!’ with a great smile on her face, or what pa.s.ses for one on her insectoid features.

We were about to make the jump, when I noticed that the report had two pages instead of one, and so I moved to the second page and what I saw made me jump from my seat, for on the second page where additional  numbers to the enemy’s fleet size. And I know what you’re thinking ‘Surely not the old one extra zero gag Metty!’.

 No sirs, it was not one zero, it was two of the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!

And that spelled disaster, for you see the only thing that the Volunians had that could catch us where corvettes and destroyers, since they where their fastest s.h.i.+p types.

Now, those two designs are normally no threat to Battles.h.i.+ps, Frigates and Carriers, but you must remember my fleet numbered about  130 s.h.i.+ps and after discovering the real numbers of the enemy, we were facing anything between 15.000 to 20.000 corvettes and destroyers, if they could catch my fleet in an open battle, through sheer numbers they could cut us to pieces!

What made matters worse, was the fact that the little package that I ordered to be dropped was the worst insult you could give to an enemy pursuer.

You where basically saying: ‘You are no threat to me, so here is my food, my water, my navigation tools, fuel and clothes and even with me parched, barefooted and running blind you can’t catch me!’.

And Yemen being from a time where insults like that meant duels to the death, you can guess which fleet he would pursue, at least that’s what I thought was the reason for why he decided to follow us.

I motioned to press the comm channel b.u.t.ton to cancel my order, but it was too late, the package had been dropped. By then I couldn’t give an order to destroy it, since what could I possibly say?

‘Scuze me, but could we please turn this ma.s.sive fleet around so I can pulverize some boots, a water bottle, a ration pack and compa.s.s so as to not insult the raging killer coming at us, since I realized the enemies true number, for I was too stupid to turn the report page and saw that he has 35.000 s.h.i.+ps instead of 350, and I don’t want to make him mad!’

I could have said it, but the combination of my actions these past few days and the words I declared during the staff meeting would have made my words look like me bombing at standup.

And so there I was, about to be chased by 20.000 vessels, aboard a fleet of slow s.h.i.+ps, who had no crew to defend, and with one of the greatest admirals of one off our biggest enemies after me, and it was all of my own doing.

Queue comedic music now!

And thus as we stared the jump, I looked at the s.h.i.+p’s clocks, who were still tuned to the planet’s time table, namely from the time zone where we had fought, it was 23:59 and as we started the jump point, I watched as the seconds ticket away to  midnight.

Metternich per Pelasgiamus, Freelance Potions Maker

The Occupied Territories, Maramanakama, the forest outside the city.

24:00 Local Planetary time.

For more than 12 hours the fires had roared, for more than twelve hours the magma had flowed, for more than 12 hours screams of agony where heard, but those twelve hours where now done, and after a period of silence, a sound more horrible than anything else that had been heard that day, flooded the calm of night. A great moan of pain and agony filled the air, as the voices of the officers and enlisted men of the Imperial Second sounded of in a choir of agony and pain.

They where a thousand races, a hundred creeds and religions, gathered from a million planets and a dozen sectors, each and every one of them a unique shape from having parents and grandparents of different species, but all did one action.

They begged.

Some begged for water, some for help, most for release.

And high on top of a hill overlooking the forest n.o.body, along with the others, was watching the sight before them.

They all had their reasons for becoming rebels, they varied from Kalynka, whose reason was pure hatred, to Tubarin who for good and bad wanted the old country back, to Ahmaianos who joined because he desired a future for his people away from the past and present.

The others had for the most part joined because they were sick of seeing a foreign flag on their government buildings. But despite their different background, mentality and reasoning, they all had the exact same reactions after what they had witnessed today.

“It’s not right, just not right.” Tubarin voiced the thought. He was, with the exception of Kalynka the most anti-imperialist of them all, he had always acted with indifference and uncaring towards the death of any Imperial, but this made him care, this made all of them care!

Tubarin felt sorry for them, Ahmaianos felt like that bottle of spirits he had in his pocket was calling him, the rest where silent, and Kalynka………well Kalynka said nothing, she only stared with wide eyes at the field of ash before her, tears threatening to spill from them.

“All of you put these on.” n.o.body said as he tossed a bag at their feet.

The action brought Kalynka out of her stupor and she opened it and saw that it contained clothes.

“This is Blood Knight clothing! Why should we wear them?” she asked, surprised at what she was holding.

“Because, you all have to get back to the city and the only way to do that is trough that field, since it is still chaos and confusion there and the rest of the surrounding area will be sealed to tight for that.” n.o.body replied.

“But why blood knights?” she asked.

“The Blood Knights are a non-profit, intergalactic, non-governmental organization that draws its members from every country in the galaxy; they are the first to arrive at any battle or war scene to help the wounded, with this we can easily slip by.” Ahmaianos said, and saw that the others gazed at him with surprised looks on their faces.

“What? Did you guys forget that I’m a certified professor at the University?”

“Sorry, it’s just that it’s hard to balance the image of someone who grades papers and writes on a chalkboard, with the one of a person who spends his free time slas.h.i.+ng Imperial throats.” Daiamar said to those present, and a small chuckle erupted all around.

“But returning to the city trough here……. will mean going through the battlefield.” Kalynka objected, as she was not distracted by Ahmaiano’s words, or rather she never registered them.

“The magma has subsided and the fire has been put down, it’s now safe to traverse.” n.o.body replied.

“But……but…..” Kalynka said as she tried to make some excuse to not go down t here.

“Why are you so hesitant?” n.o.body asked as he marched forward and lowered his gaze, until he was at eye level with Kalynka.

“After all, ‘they are nothing but beasts and monsters that deserve to die’.” he told her and to that she had no retort, she could only close her eyes and give a nod of defeat.

“I think this proves my competence and that you can trust me to lead you to victory. I will contact you again in two weeks, use that time to think of what happened here and then give me your final answer on whether you truly want to join me or not.” Metternich said and stepped out of the camouflaged position.

“Wait, where are you going?” Usanthus asked as he rushed outside to catch him, only to be greeted by an empty gra.s.s field for miles around.

“He just vanished!” to that statement the others also exited the camouflaged position and looked around for n.o.body, but what they got was nothing but empty hillside, the darkness of night and the forest………..that dreaded forest.

“Come on, let’s get this over with.” Tubarin replied and started putting on the uniform; this prompted the others to follow his example and do the same.

After a couple of minutes, they were all wearing the uniform of the Blood Knight, which was composed of a long white tunic coat, that extended all the way to foot level, a hood and face mask, and a black vest that covered the chest and stomach with the symbol of the Blood Knights, which was composed of a red mortar and pestle, that signified that they where healers.

So, after taking on this guise, they walked towards that field of ash and death.

And as Kalynka and the others made their way to the city, Metternich ran for his life and the Galaxy turned once more, as high above this plane of existence Deux once more wrote in his book.

“Midnight, the witching hour, the hour of changing, twelve o clock, dapura, ishnukaia, a moment in the day and night with a thousand names and countless roles.” he scribbled away as he gazed at the world bellow.

“To some, twelve o clock signifies the end of peace.”

Metternich used the universas to gaze at the rear of his fleet, as it made its way from the jump point of the system that they just arrived in, towards the next one, which was on the other side of the system.

 He looked at the vacant rear as if the enemy fleet was about to appear behind them and in a few days time they probably would, so he savored their absence for as much as he could.

“To others it represents hope for the future.”

On the planet Volun 4, a windwaker operator was browsing the channels, they where all filled with static, until a message was finally heard.

“This is Admiral Yemen of the Volunian Fleet, stand fast soldiers; we have arrived in the system!”

“To a few, midnight brings you face to face with your ambitions realized.”

 Kalynka and the others had reached the area where the fire and lava flow had hit the Imperials the hardest. They were making their way through the field hospital, which was stricken with the dead, the dying and those in between.

Suddenly a hand lurched and grabbed Kalynka by the arm, she moved to a fighting stance, but then she saw that the hand belonged to a heavily burned humanoid Imperial soldier, a very young Imperial, why no more than a boy!

“Mother………mother is that…….t-that-” he tried to say but his body had given away and his soul went to a better place, or at least better than the one he just left.

And that was it, Kalynka’s final barrier had been broken and she finally started shedding tears as she and her group made their way through their great victory against the Empire, in all its glory.

“To others, it brings the dawning of our nightmares and the last bastion of blessed sanctuary from them.”

Gelios looked, gazed and stared at the various news channels, that he received on his wall mounted farviews, within his private room. All different stations, all different masters, but all reporting the same thing.

 Disaster!

He walked towards his liquor cabinet and opened it.

 He had a long night ahead of him and a very awful day to look forward too.

“To a few, it is the last moment before a new day dawns, in which we truly discover our flaws.”

Tubarin and Ahmaianos made their way through the field of wounded, each trying not to look at the pain and suffering they had cause with n.o.body, but that was impossible since there where so many of them…………. to many to ignore.

Akanthos reached inside his pockets and pulled out his flask of spirits. He looked at it for a moment before kneeling down to a wounded Imperial, that was screaming for painkillers and opened the bottle to give the man some hard liquor for his pain.

“To others it is the final moment of agony, before the arrival of answers that we preferred not to have, but always knew that they were on their way.”

“Just what kind of a monster are we dealing with?” Tubarin muttered to himself, as he for not the very first time in his life wished the Great Catcher had not blessed him with foresight and the wisdom to see things as they where, and realize that this might well be only the start of what was to come.

“Some find comfort in the striking of midnight, and use it to reform themselves both mentally and physically.”

Postmen, couriers and coded windwakers send their letters and messages all across the various resistance groups’ networks.

 Awakened by this sudden turn of events, they all broadcasted trough a hundred phrases the same message:

‘The time is now!’

“While to certain groups, it brings deliverance.”

A patrol of soldiers where making their final sweep across the perimeter of the fire field, making sure that all the fires had been stopped and that there was no more magma flowing. They were about to turn back, when something caught the eyes of one of their corporals.

“There’s a jeep just up ahead, looks like someone’s in it!” he shouted and the squad rushed to the Spider-Wolf-Jeep that was turned on its side.

“But regardless of what it brings one thing is undeniable, and that when the clock strikes that dozen stroke, you can be always be sure that at ‘twelve of clock, all is well’.”

“I cannot imagine what tomorrow brings, for any heaven or h.e.l.l I dream off pales in comparison with real life.”

Guschen Boboruni.