The dragon was curled up on a great throne made of many precious metals, granites, and stones. They were all neutral colours, which highlighted the metallic green glinting on his scales. This creature would not have looked out of place in a forest, thought Rieven, probably would have blended right in. The item more worthy of consideration was not its home but rather its weaknesses. He didn’t see any lose scales, and had no idea as to their placement on any hardness scale of stone or metal. Likely this creature would be able to resist the vacuum of the void for a time longer than the fifteen seconds non-axiom infused humans could manage. That doesn’t rule out explosive decompression as an option. Definitely a better one than CQC with a dragon. Not even Ono would want to get into close quarters combat with that thing before preparing.
He looked at the room the dragon was in and didn’t see any viewports or even any doors. He wondered where in the ship this chamber was located, and if it could serve as an escape pod or environmental back-up if occasion demanded. Probably. He made a note on his data pad to his strike team that until proved otherwise the dragon was assumed to be capable of personal void walkabouts and was currently existing in a self-contained life support unit that functioned as an escape pod that was capable of FTL or more.
The Lord Admiral blinked. That was the beginning and end of his reaction to the appearance of a dragon on the viewscreen. Rieven was impressed, Lord Admiral Hends was truly unflappable. He leaned forward as the Lord Admiral began to speak, paying even more attention, “I am Lord Admiral Hends of the Fourth Operatic Imperial Navy.” Silence descended as he waited for the dragon’s response. Imperial etiquette required an introduction before business could be discussed, and with the identity and status of the other participant being unknown it was advisable to treat as equals until after introductions were made and the cotillion of social standing could be navigated.
Eventually the dragon lifted its head to one side, reminding Rieven very much of a snake. When it spoke, however, there was nothing of the snake present; it was all deep predator with just enough rumble to bring fear to his hind-brain. “You declare yourself but you do not declare your intent. For this there is a price.” He paused for a moment, allowing that statement to take root in the space between words before continuing, his eyes glinting with the blue of a lake reflecting an overcast sky. “I am the Rising Sun Akhnahten, of the Empire of the Celestial Skies. How came you here, so far past our borders?”
“In the Operatic Empire” Hense began, “it is etiquette that names and rank be exchanged before business and politics. No offence was desired. We intend to return to our home world in the System of Celestial Harmonics with celerity. It was not our aim to arrive here, and we are uncertain how it occurred. In one moment we were soundly within the bounds of our star charts and in the next we were here, amidst strange stars and foreign persons. There were no energy surges, nor rites, nor incantations which preceded this shift and its manner of operation is unknown to us. How are you and I speaking the same language?”
“Etiquette does not excuse a failure to comport oneself according to the life-spiral. Tread here carefully, ye who do not yet fly.” Rieven looked down at another message from CIC, this time from their local linguist: that phrase has the ring of ritual to it. Probably a warning issued to their young when they are defenseless and fighting against parental control. Or some such thing – hard to say without too much cultural context. Then why did you say it? Thought Rieven. He shook his head as the conversation on the viewscreen continued.
“We understand and are understood because we speak the language of the Celestial Skies. It is the only language that can be spoken within our borders.” Rieven fell back against his seat in shock. They were no longer speaking Imperial Standard. Why did he not notice? To have a working of such a scale, multiple systems included, to be large enough to qualify as an empire, and to force every communication into this one language without the communicator noticing? This was beyond anything he had ever heard of, even in the tales of his youth. Where does the axiom come from to power such a working? Or is it merely that they both used the same language, with one slightly more formal and the other slightly less?
His question was asked by the Lord Admiral, “That is indeed an impressive working. The scale must be tremendous to account for such an empire. How is such a thing powered?”
Akhnahten grunted his disappointment. “I had thought you merely without civility, but I find you are without honour as well. To mislead is a grave mistake, but to lie is forbidden by the Life-Spiral. Do not pretend you are without the knowledge necessary to transport yourself into my presence, for you are here. Do not pretend that you are without the knowledge necessary to bind an entire galactic realm within a single working, for such is foundational to the travel you have accomplished. You are not children, though you may act like them.” He was getting more agitated the longer his speech went on. By the end his tail was thrashing about in the background, marring the ceiling with shallow cuts. Rieven did not like where this was going and he immediately ordered their ship to approach location A at speed. It kept them in the local sun and made them tricky to pick out by Imperical means. Perhaps the Empire of Celestial Skies had something else that would work? It didn’t matter. You could only plan for as much as you could and eliminate what remained as it floated to the top.
Akhnahten looked up at the screen and stilled. “The price will be paid now.” The dragon inhaled while turning to the side, then breathed out a line of fire that looked unlike anything Rieven had seen. CIC sent him a third message on his data pad: Based purely on visual feed, that fire is likely as damaging as the corona of a small sun. That was a horrible fact thought Rieven. It’s a good thing that their ships had shielding.
A moment later the contact screen off to the side gave a warning tone. It showed a brief line drawn between the dragon’s flagship and the Mother’s Plea. The line went in one side and out the other, directly through the bridge. The Lord Admiral’s half of the screen flared violently into red, then into white and then calmly faded into black.
Rieven looked at the screen uncomprehendingly for half a second. That should not have been possible. You can’t just breath fire through a ship’s walls, across twenty-three klicks of void, through the walls of another ship and slice cleanly through their bridge. How did they even know where the human bridge was? It was located in a different place for every ship class. He felt all emotion leave him, all that was left was a checklist of actions that needed doing.
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He no longer even felt surprise at the CIC’s incorrect estimate of the heat range of that shot. He calmly pushed a button on his data pad which pinged a message to Master Sergeant Ono to ready himself and his team for the next act of the plan. Then he called out to the helm: “Get us as close to that green turd as you can manage. With celerity!” Then he turned to engineering and in a commanding tone said, “I want those rotational reflectors powered up now. We will lose surprise, but will be able to reach his ship. If we must go FTL from inside of it to destroy it, we will.” The bridge sounded with affirmations as each person expressed their delight at the prospect of conducting the Empire’s greatest tradition of ‘aggressive prejudice’ against this slug. What was a tiny suicidal mission compared to that? “It might not be necessary, let’s see how Master Sergeant Ono fairs first.”
He then flipped his comm channel to the secured fleetwide band, his image replacing both halves of the screen, and said “This is captain Rieven, commandant of the Void Spectres. Lord Admiral Hends is presumed dead. I order the direct execution of INL 247-2. Authority code 107268A1A. Failure to comply will result in your destruction. The enemy’s flagship is painted as mine. Rieven out.”
This order to follow Imperial Naval Law 247-2 on pain of destruction was being recorded by every Ship’s Intelligence, along with the response of each member of the Imperial Navy stationed in this fourth navy. There would be an accounting later for the families of every sailor who failed their duty if even one ship survived. Families back in Homeworld would fall for every refusal or delay of compliance; conversely, others would find their family in ascension should their blood bring pride to the Operatic Empire in the immediate wake of the Lord Admiral’s presumed death.
Upon his death, presumed or otherwise, the ships captains would gather virtually to determine who would receive the Battlefield Promotion to replace him. The decision would be based on rank of nobility, experience in the Imperial Navy, and the number of political allies present for the voting. While it would not be legally binding until confirmed by the Imperial Grand Admiral, it would legally bind the Fourth Imperial Navy until such time as they made berth back at Homeworld.
However, the Void Spectres existed outside of the traditional chain of command. In the proper occasion their authority could exceed all but the emperor’s. This was a proper occasion. Failure to act would see them all slain in fire and in void. He could only legally coopt every ship’s captain in the Fourth Imperial Navy so long as he did so prior to the calling for a vote. Rieven didn’t think anyone in Fourth Navy would be so stupid as to do so in the middle of an active engagement, but he couldn’t leave it to chance, he acted immediately and secured the direct obedience of every ship’s captain for the engagement’s duration. This would ruffle a lot of angry feathers as traditionally the captain of the Lord Admiral’s ship would receive command, but there was no telling if the secondary bridge of the Mother’s Plea had been destroyed or rendered inoperable until they were able to reestablish communications, which would take two minutes longer than they had.
As they neared engagement range he turned to Weapons Control and said “I want two axiom torpedoes fired in learner’s manner at every ship between us and greenie’s turd. Clear the way!” With luck the two torpedoes, one following in the other’s direct path, would be enough to clear the shields of some of the ships and cause enough damage to clear a path. Most likely less than half of the ships attacked would even be harmed.
He kept his eyes on the contact screen and saw axiom torpedoes being fired from every ship in the Fourth Imperial Navy without measure. It was glorious. He felt his lips twitch, almost a smile but he caught it in time. Inside he had thrown his head back and was laughing from his belly. Then he froze as he watched every ship that was targeted on the contact screen explode with unmitigated enthusiasm. That was not supposed to happen. In the side of his mind he also thought that the transcript of his conversation with himself for the last ten minutes contained the too frequent use of the phrase ‘that was not supposed to happen’ or its twin that was impossible’. He found himself conflicted, for he was excited with a new challenge and equally terrified that the situation was rapidly devolving beyond his ability to influence the outcome.
Where were the dragon’s shields? Why were they not preventing…wait. He ran the fingers of his left hand through his hair. That’s what’s going on. That’s why they could destroy the bridge of the Mother’s Plea, but not defend against a simple axiom torpedo. He again opened the comm channel to the secured fleetwide band and said “That was a perfect execution of INL 247-2. It turns out that greenie’s fleet is unable or unwilling to thread matter with axiom. They are only able to express axiom externally to matter. They have no axiomatic shielding. Continue fire on all available enemy ships. Rieven out.”
He looked up at the viewscreen and saw that they had almost arrived, having had to slow to avoid the worst of the wreckage. Just as they cleared the newly created junk cloud, he heard lieutenant Sakura say “Captain, the Mother’s Plea is hailing us.”
“Put it up on the viewscreen lieutenant.”
The viewscreen image resolved into lieutenant commander Brandson’s face. She was the executive officer of the Mother’s Plea Ship’s Captain, and her face had smoke smudges, her collar was blackened and she looked tired. In the background he could see that she was located in the tertiary bridge, the last place from which that ship might be piloted. She forbore ceremony as required during an active engagement and jumped right into the reason for the call. “Captain Rieven, another fleet is hailing us. Shall I send it your way?”
Rieven looked down and saw that there were indeed two fleets approaching their position from opposing directions. This was going to get tricky. He had just enough time to share a few words with the enemy. He said “Please lieutenant commander Brandson. That would be lovely. Thank you.” He signed off after receiving her confirmation. In a moment her image dissolved into that of a gristled red dragon on a functional throne. Its wings were partially spread out behind itself in a way that reminded Rieven of the hood of a snake being opened.
He looked at the contact screen and saw that while greenie’s fleet was being eliminated steadily, lines of fire were obliterating many of the Fourth Imperial Navy’s own. He did not look forward to the loss list. He looked back up as the dragon spoke. He sounded as though he had been smoking from the moment he had been born, his voice was so raspy. “I am Heat Death Virabdhara Commander, stand down. Do not destroy Rising Sun Akhnaten’s vessel. This situation was made in error, and everyone should cease fighting during explanations.”
Rieven grew angry for a moment and pressed a button on his data pad that called Master Sergeant Ono, who picked up immediately. “Sir!”
“Ono, change of plans. I need you to cancel the boarding action that was planned. Instead, I need you to leave our standard parting gift.”
Ono laughed as he replied, “It will be done sir!”
“Rieven out.” Rieven said and closed the connection.
“No commander,” rasped the dragon, “no parting gift is required. Simply command a hold-fire and I shall do the same and we may discuss.”
Rieven opened up the fleetwide comms and said “hold fire and immediately follow INL 247-2A. Rieven out.” He looked up at the new dragon and said “where would you like to meet?” As the dragon ordered the same hold-fire from his side, the axiom torpedo Ono had prepared hit the flagship and it ceased to exist. Huh, thought Rieven, I told him standard parting gift. That was most assuredly not standard; that must have been about twelve torpedoes bundled together. His marines should have loved that, no one was crazier than a marine.
The red dragon roared in frustration and Rieven smiled. Up yours, he thought. You’re not going to protect that filth that murdered the Lord Admiral in cold blood. Nope, not happening.
Then the dragon said “This conversation is now broadcast to every vessel within contact range. The next ship that opens fire on anything will be obliterated.” He then closed the channel and said to Rieven, “Please see reason and communicate with me with words.”
“You see, it is not about reason or unreason. It is about delivering a proportionate response. Greenie could not be allowed to live after his actions. I resolved that phrase with the destruction of seventy percent of his fleet and his termination. I am happy now to hear what you have to say.” And he really was happy to listen because the Fourth Imperial Fleet would split into two groups and open fire on everything the moment they saw his ship fire a single shot in any direction. Also, the breathing room was nice for everyone.
“Ahh” said the dragon, “that makes more sense. You think you slew Rising Sun Akhnahten. You did not.”
