《The Ambush at Kal Amore Station》 Chapter 1: Trap ¡°Oh look, it¡¯s a trap,¡± Stone Guardian¡¯s navigation officer¡¯s voice was dry as paper. Stone Guardian¡¯s Captain grunted and then murmured a quick ¡°Quiet¡± as he looked at the command screen, watching the rest of the fleet of Dragon Lord Titus Sol Eringar drop into normal space. Into the waiting arms of a combined Elven, Dwarvish, and Fae fleet. They had warned him, begged him. Even undertook a misguided attempt to browbeat him into seeing that of course the summit taking place at Kal Amore Station was a trap. But Lord Titus Sol had ignored the first two and after the third he had executed 27 of his executive staff. Well, 27 of his humans- men and women who had earned names 5 times over. The Dragon officers, the officers that had actually spoken, had simply been reprimanded or demoted. His brands burned at the disloyalty of the thought, so Captain banished it, trying to focus on his death. For that was what it was. The Stone Guardian was a troop transport ship- well armorer, fast, but relatively poorly equipped when it came to weaponry. The troop transport ships had dropped into the real 5 standard seconds after the Talon in a standard Claw deployment- destroyers and battleships preceding the support/boarding ships. By the time the glowing stars and planets of the Amare system had crystallized into the planets and their satellites around the Stone, the battle was well underway, with the incoming transports and bombers running the risk of colliding with the frantically maneuvering warships as they spun up their Ether drives to retreat. ¡°Abort! It¡¯s a trap. All ships of the 1st Eringar Fleet, evacuate the system at once!¡± Dragon Lord Titus¡¯s angry voice screamed out over the ship wide band, and Captain waited for the retreat formation, even though it would not do anyone any good. This was bad. He hoped his crew couldn¡¯t see through his facade of calm as his mind tried to grasp how completely screwed they all were. As traps go, the allied forces had executed theirs almost perfectly, pinning Lord Titus¡¯ forces between the slower Dwarven heavy Dreadnaughts and the faster Elven and Fae Cruisers.. With the planet-sized Kal Amore station at the fleet¡¯s back, the odds of escape were slim to none. They had started launching missiles and torpedoes when the first warships had blinked into existence, and explosions were whiting out the viewing screens of the bridge as the Stone lost port shields to multiple explosions. He keyed his flight command com, ¡°Guardian flight, execute evasive plan Eros bell. He knew it was his imagination that felt the Stone flip end over end as it repositioned and corkscrewed into the new formation- here at the center of the ship the inertia compensators had no problem compensating. Still, the slight tug at his stomach felt real enough. Stone¡¯s sensors chimed a mournful sound and Communications swore, ¡°We lost Water and Fire right out of the plaking gate sir, Wind has lost her dorsal shielding and Ether drive, so she¡¯s plaked in a- nope never mind she¡¯s gone. The Goddess is raping us good Cap. Gold¡¯s port shields are down to 10% and her engine housing is severely damaged. She is falling back¡­¡± Captain let Comm¡¯s profanity laced status report wash over him as Stone¡¯s computer system automatically compensated for the loss and damaged ships in the formation, racheting the slaved drives down to keep them all together. His fingers twitched and Gold Guardian was dropped from the formation. The dropship trooper inside of him cursed him for a plaking sphincter, but the flight commander in him felt nothing. Gold had to be cut loose. Stone¡¯s drive flared as the remaining 7 ships of the flight picked up speed heading stationward. But where would they head after? His eyes flickered to his comms record, and his brows drew down in puzzlement as he stood up, interrupting Comms, ¡°What is the retreat formation?¡± Comms glanced at his screen and his face paled. ¡°No formation given sir, Fleet Command is gone.¡± Captain¡¯s brands burned, but he kept his voice calm as he said, ¡°Fleet Formation, main viewer,¡± the image of the Gold Guardian being torn apart by volley after volley of charged rail gun fire disappeared and was replaced with gold and red fleet symbols. Gold for those commanded by Dragons, red for those with all human crews. And the Gold ships were almost gone. Captain thought he was going to pass out from the pain of his burning brands. Even as screwed as they were, even as outmatched and outgunned as the fleet was, the rate of disappearance was faster than it had been if they had been destroyed, and the ship movements told the story with devastating clarity. The Dragons were running, and they were using their human slaves as a living shield to give them time to spin up their Ether drives. ¡°Plake,¡± It was Second who said it and it was just one word, but from a woman who was one of the most stoic members of his command staff, it was enough. Captain wished she had kept her plaking mouth shut. Seconds were rock solid- the captain gave orders and expected them followed. Seconds followed them and made others follow them- never faltering, never showing anything but complete and utter confidence in the Captain, in the flight, and in the fleet. Her curse was confirmation that everything was going sunward and they were as good as dead. Just like that the damn broke. The bridge crew¡¯s brands flared the red of disloyalty as everyone started talking at once. "Plaking cowards" "Everyone knew it was a trap" "They''ve doomed us all" He opened his mouth to tell them to shut up before their brands triggered and burned them to death¡­ nothing came out. They were right. Every one of them. Lord Sol Lot Eringar had spent 700 years building the Eringan clan into the largest, most powerful of all the dragon clans. Sol Eringar had been among the first to see that humans, who reproduced at nearly 20 times the rate as Dragons, could be used to bolster fleet numbers. He had transformed a race of servants into a race of warriors using the Brands. And those warriors had pushed back the encroaching Elven, Fae and Dwarven forces. It had taken his hatchling 10 years to squander his legacy. Titus was barely old enough to change his form- a mere 300 years- and was so obsessed with proving that he was old and wise that he routinely confirmed that he was young and stupid.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. And when a trusted intelligence agent had reported a meeting between the three allied races, Titus had thought this the perfect opportunity for Eringar to lop the head off of the snake and solidify his slipping status in the clans. It was a trap. Everyone knew it was a trap. Everyone except the Lord Eringar. And now he had squandered the bulk of his force, abandoning his fleet without even the most basic retreat plan, leaderless. In a fleet that was built on loyalty, discipline and absolute obedience, where independent thought was punished swiftly and brutally, this was a death sentence. ALL of the dragons were leaving. Admiral Tol Jared, whose ship he had first served on, Captain Miras, whose crew the Stone Guardian had once pulled out of a besieged crash site on Gallo''s 6.... all of them. They were all abandoning the much larger human fleet to save themselves. It would not save them. There weren''t enough Dragons to stand against the allies for long. The clan was doomed. His brain twisted in upon itself, focusing on one truth. Dragons rule. Humans serve. That was the rule. The rule branded into his skin. The rule they all lived by. But that rule had failed. That rule had doomed them all. Forfeited everything. Deep inside of him, something broke. Then the rest of him broke, splintering into thousands of pieces. His brand seared his whole body. The black ancient script glowing red and going into white. His crew had stopped talking, and he realized that was because he was screaming. Cap was dying! Second frantically searched the bridge for signs of Fae sorcery. How had they gotten through the safeguards? In all her years of serving by his side, Cap had always known what to do. He had led them through death time and time again without so much as a grimace. Now, with his crew on the verge of Brand suicide, with the universe disintegrating around them all, he did the best thing he could do. He went crazy. He jerked and pitched to the floor, a blood curdling cry ripping from his throat. It was a scream full of pain and fear and despair, and it was getting worse. HIs brands were starting to glow white as the heat from them continued to intensify. The stench of burnt hair and clothes reached her nostrils as the brands started to burn the Cap¡¯s body. Tampering safeguards, designed to prevent anyone from changing the brand. "Auto dock" she roared as she leaped to the Captains side, "Helm find a way out of this death trap. Tactical, assume formation control. Sensors, get me a sit rep. The auto dock had scanned Captain by the time she made it to his side. "His internal organs are shutting down." The ship¡¯s computer reported, "he will be dead in approximately 5 standard seconds." "Adrenaline. Now." "The amount needed to achieve resus-" "Authorization override second in command alpha gamma 478" she ground out and slapped the panel on his chair. A syringe flashed out and plunged into his chest. Wish I had earned a name. It was a stray thought, and silly. If you want a name, just pick a name. He had a name, didn''t he. Or a¡­designation? Reality fluxed and thought swirled together and coelessed into¡­. Stone. He was Captain of the troop transport ship Stone Guardian, and he had work to do. ¡°....just let him plaking die, sir. It will be better than burning alive, which is what we are all going to do. By the way, Sun and Moon Guardians are failing and will both go straight into the Goddess¡¯ cunt about 1 standard minute before we do. 45% of our ships have been worm food for the fates-damned Grave-lord and the rest are as good as so¡± ¡°COMMUNICATIONS!¡± Captain croaked out of a throat that felt like all of the water had been drained out months ago and replaced with sand. The bridge activity paused again, ¡°Yes, sir?¡± ¡°Communicate. Less.¡± Second pulled him up to his feet, ¡°Second, report.¡± ¡°Well sir, I would not put it quite in that flowery language, but Communications summed it up pretty well.¡± ¡°Sounds bad,¡± he fell into his chair and started tapping out a battle plan, as he did he craned around the bridge, then keyed his mic, ¡°Drop troopers, get geared up and prepare for battle, Captain Griffin, please report to bridge.¡± ¡°Yes sir it is. I know you think you need to keep the troopers busy sir, but getting them all dressed up to die seems a little mean.¡± ¡°Thank you for the feedback, Navigation, now start getting me a fleet wide reverse thrust attack vector plan, speed to flank.¡± ¡°Sir?¡± The bridge activity was still paused. Captain sighed and then stood up, ¡°Okay, listen. Things are really bad. The worse I have ever seen them.¡± They waited in silence until the Second cleared her throat, ¡°But?¡± ¡°There is no ¡®but¡¯; this is a plaked up situation and I can see no version of this where we live. Guess what? That does not matter.¡± He heard the door open behind them, ¡°Captain Griffin, what do we do?¡± Her steely gray hair pulled back in a severe bun, the old trooper commander snarled out, ¡°We serve sir.¡± ¡°How do we do that, Captain?¡± ¡°We fight, we kill, and we die, sir¡± He scanned the room, ¡°Get back to your jobs. Communications, get me a fleet wide channel. Tactical, I need a threat and vulnerability assessment of the approaching Elven-Fae fleet. Find me the closest Elven ships.¡± ¡°You want the weakest, sir?¡± ¡°Negative. I want the strongest.¡± He finished his battle plan and sent it to the other Captain¡¯s hand held, ¡°Grif take a look at this¡± ¡°I have the fleet wide channel sir.¡± ¡°Great, patch it to my chair¡± he winced as a babble of panicked voices blared out of his arm chair. He immediately thought of how he had so effectively shut his own crew up mere seconds- was it only second- before, ¡°Comms, blast that channel with the loudest static package you have,¡± then, in the moment of stunned silence that followed their speakers blaring with screeching static, he spoke to the remaining fleet. ¡°This is the Captain of the Stone Guardian troop transport ship. If you want to die crying in terror, keep doing what you are doing. If you want to at least take some enemies with you, then follow the battle plan I am sending out to your ships right now and slave your ship¡¯s nav to mine.. Fight well, die clean.¡± He ended with a drop trooper slogan, since if they did what he wanted them to do, everyone would be some kind of drop trooper before long. ¡°On the way up here, I heard you caught fire¡± The Captain of the Griffin drop troop platoon perched on his chair arm and waved at his battle plan ¡°apparently it roasted your brain.¡± ¡°Sure as Toberus felt like it did,¡± He stood, ¡°Get your people ready and in position.¡± He then turned back to Navigation, ¡°Got my vectors yet?¡± Even Nav, knew there was a time for sarcasm and a time for none, ¡°Yes sir.¡± ¡°Overlay it with the report from tactical and put it into the system.¡± He watched and the two plans combined and were then merged with the battle plane, with the Stone sending out orders to the other ships in the fleet. His chair chirped at him and he stood again, ¡°Okay, this is going to be our last one, so let¡¯s hit the nail on the head. Helm.¡± ¡°Sir¡± ¡°Flip and burn. The rest of you get ready to die.¡± Second tapped him on the shoulder and then gestured at his body, ¡°Oh, and if someone could find me some pants, that would be great.¡± Chapter 2: Ambush The ragged remnants of the Dragon Fleet hurtled towards Kal Amore Station the troop transport ships, now the bulk of the fleet, began to form into something resembling a formation. What could they possibly hope to accomplish? The twin anvils of the station and Dwarven fleets stood ready to receive them. The hammer of the Elf and Fae fleets closed in, promising death. Ambushes were boring. Darius Elmagdamari sat in his Command Chair on board his station, watching his staff and the station¡¯s computer coordinate supporting fire with the dwarven fleet, watching his Elven brethren on the assault force get to have all the fun. But even they had to be bored out of their minds, ¡°You know Evie, I think we should go out for Gentak tonight. There is a new place in the west habitat wing that I have been dying to try out.¡± His tactical officer and lover, Everet, glared at him and then aggressively pushed a button that launched a salvo of rail gun fire at the approaching fleet. ¡°I thought that we had discussed the fact that you need to use proper rank and names while addressing your staff, Darry. I wish you¡¯d take this more seriously. And Gentak food makes you gassy.¡± ¡°Um, that would be Commander Darry, I believe, lieutenant. I assure you that I am taking this situation as seriously as I need to. The enemy is almost dead and poses,¡± he made a show of checking the threat assessment, ¡°Exactly 13.5 percent risk to my station. Besides,¡± he looked at ambassador Kiln Botre ¡°It is not like any orders I issue to our Dwarven allies will be followed.¡± Kiln was middle aged for a dwarf- about 257 standard years- and Darius had known him for a quarter of his life. He shrugged apologetically at his friend, ¡°My people are thick headed at the best of times. I do not think that in the middle of dealing a fatal blow to an enemy fleet would be a good time to test out the strength of your command.¡± ¡°You see,¡± Darius threw his hands up, ¡°You are coordinating the attack and the dwarves won¡¯t listen to anything I tell them to do anyway. There is nothing for me to do except watch the light show.¡± An alert popped up on his command screen just then and he sat up- watching, ¡°Ah, looks like someone out there finally decided to give a shit.¡± The Eringar fleet had executed a flip and burn, which was driving them away from the station and planet and back towards the onrushing ships. The station¡¯s guns fell silent as the enemy exited the engagement zone. While Darius was glad to see the threat counter drop from 13.5 to 6.8, he was still puzzled by the formation they were assuming. ¡°Ambassador, what are we seeing?¡± Kiln had spent 23 years as the ¡°guest¡± of Lord Sol Lot Eringar, and was considered the alliance¡¯s leading expert on Dragon tactics. Kiln studied the formation ¡°It looks like the standard drop ship screening formation, with the warships out front in a screen and the drop ships clustered in groups behind them.¡± ¡°Okay, that makes a lot of sense, but I am puzzled as to one minor detail in this case, Kiln.¡± ¡°You mean why is it ass-backwards?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°No idea¡± Captain Stone remembered the last time he had thought that life about what was fair or not was important. He had been 6 or 7, and had finished second in the barracks foot race after the winner had elbowed his nose. He had complained that he had almost won. He still remembered the barrack master¡¯s harsh voice before the club had slammed into his head, ¡°Almost counts for nothing boy. Not in war, and not in life. You¡¯ll never get anything done if you bitch about almost.¡± The allied trap had been almost perfect. They had only made one mistake when planning out the hammer and the anvil: they had placed the overlapping fields of fire right on the edge for both forces, counting on the Dragon fleet to continue falling into the waiting arms of the dwarves and Kal Amore station. But the Eringar fleet was burning Edgeward, away from the sun, taking themselves out of the engagement zone of both the station and the dwarven fleet. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. As the drop ships assumed the head of the formation, dumping all of their power into engines and forward shields, the crews joined the troopers in their own battle suits reported to their positions. Second tapped Captain on the shoulder, ¡°You know I was wondering why no one had ever tried this type of thing before.¡± ¡°Oh yeah?¡± ¡°Yeah, and the answer is that because it is plaking stupid and going to get a bunch of us killed.¡± He grunted, not taking his eyes off of his fleet monitor. The Elves and Fay were ignoring the drop ships coming towards themand firing at the much more formidable destroyers and dreadnoughts, who were spinning up their Ether drives. The drop ships were sitting ducks, and of no great strategic importance in a naval battle. Each warship taken was one more nail in the Sol Eringar coffin. Some of the ships had Ether drives on them and were already leaping into Etherspace, disappearing in flashes of light. Goddess but his brands burned. They had still not dimmed to the customary black, but glowed a new color- gold. It was playing havoc with his suite¡¯s HUD. He tried to calm down and keep his thoughts on the plan. A proximity alarm glowed on his HUD. The enemy ships were almost ¡°above¡± them, Their torpedoes and missiles were still swooping down on the battleships, most of which had abandoned their feeble attempts at escape and switched power to their rail guns, shooting the projectiles out of the sky. They were doing pretty well, but not for long- once the Allied fleet closed to rail gun range their sheet numbers would overwhelm the battleships. The dwarven fleet had started burning out of the station¡¯s shadow and would soon be within range. It would be a massacre. Captain exhaled and looked at Second, ¡°Thanks, by the way, for saving my life.¡± She grunted, ¡°Pumped enough adrenaline into you to kill a star.¡± The proximity alarm started beeping, and was almost louder than his heart as she pressed the claristeel of her helm against his, ¡°This is the craziest thing you''ve ever done. I love you. Stay alive for me.¡± Love was forbidden amongst humans- all types of familial connection was punishable by death. ¡°I love you too.¡± he said and then for the 2nd- or 3rd?- time that day, his world exploded. Drop ships have to maneuver in atmo, so their thrusters are much more powerful than the average space ship. Their armor is also a lot thicker in order to withstand bombardment from the much bigger and more powerful planetary rail guns. Still, it is one thing to know that a drop ship is manuverable., and quite another to see it spin into the path of an oncoming battleship. And a completely different thing to see it happening to scores and scores of them. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Darius leaned forward in his chair. Collision alarms were going off across the fleet. . ¡°The drop ships rammed the warships, sir.¡± Dav, his sensor specialist said, unhelpfully. ¡°Ok, I can see that but why.¡±. ¡°Humans do not die easy.¡± Kiln murmured . ¡°Sir, I am picking up ship movement behind Hammer group.¡± Dav reported as maybe a flight and a half of dreadnoughts- the dragon ships that had spun up their Ether drives quicker than all the others, flashed into existence behind Hammer and started firing railguns, torpedoes, and missiles at a select number of ships, focusing their fire without any apparent rhyme or reason. The bulk of the Dragon warships had increased their speed and were almost upon the Elven ships that had collided with the troop carriers. Maybe the drop ships had just meant to slow the oncoming ships down? But if that was the case, why had the war ships attacked instead of escaping. Kiln was humming. Kiln only hummed when he was nervous and when Kiln was nervous it usually meant a lot of things were going to die. ¡°Ambassador?¡± Darius asked with a raised eyebrow- keeping one eye on the station¡¯s threat assessment of the battle. So far it agreed with him: the humans had only delayed the inevitable, and would soon all be dead. ¡°There is a human drop trooper saying¡± Kiln shook his head, ¡°Better to die looking the enemy in the eye¡± ¡°What a lovely rhyme.¡± Darius grinned, but he noticed that Evie was frowning, ¡°Oh now what is your problem?¡± ¡°I am picking up explosions on the hulls of our ships¡± ¡°Secondary impacts from the drop ships?¡± ¡°Maybe but¡­¡± Now Darius was frowning, and a cold feeling had started at the base of his spine. ¡°Pull up the collision data and put it on the main viewer.¡± The collision played, ¡°Focus on the lead ship and play it again¡± ¡°What are you looking for?¡± He irritably waved a hand and barked, ¡°Again Lieutenant!¡± The cold feeling in his spine grew as he watched the lead ship- the Stone Guardian, strike the Sure Destruction and the front part of the ship crumpled into the Sure Destruction... and stayed there. If suicide was the goal, why not overload their engines. He spun, ¡±Issue commands to those ships not impacted, tell them to---¡± and that was when the Elven and Faye ships of the allied fleet began firing on each other. Chapter 3: Victory The Stone Guardian hammered into the enemy ship, layers of hull colliding and melting away. Throughout the ship, corridors in front of the impact points were packed with bodies. The ship had been vented of all atmosphere and everyone was maglocked to the floors, walls, and ceilings. As the ships struck, charges at the front of the impact points fired to clear away any existing debris and the maglocks all released, throwing the assault teams forward. Heat washed over him as he fell through fire and death, into the enemy ship. He struck a bulkhead and spun, feeling a moment¡¯s disorientation as he went from vacuum into the Elven ship¡¯s atmosphere, where gravity was once again a thing. He hit the floor turned it into a roll, blades springing from the hands of his suit to decapitate the two luckless elves that had happened to be walking down the hallway he fell into. Then he let his instincts take over, slinging his assault weapon to his shoulder as his fire team dropped in around him. They fought their way to the bridge, killing the crew and the ship along the way. Elven ships were not made- they were grown. They were living things that the elves formed bonds with, and they fought their own battle against invaders, shooting out limbs to spear a leg, or swallowing troopers whole. But a human in a suit of drop armor was a force unto its own. The ether coursed through him and his suit, filling his brain with the battle rage, sharpening senses, and improving his reflex. Cap crashed through the doors to the bridge, ducking the barrage of fire that cut one of his squadmates in half. Without thought he whirled around the bridge, shooting and cutting and killing. It was over in milliseconds, and he stood in the middle of a blood spattered bridge, the rest of his squad coming through the door. That felt wrong- they had been right behind him Surely it had been longer than that. ¡°Plake¡± someone murmured into the now silent bridge as they looked at their Captain standing in the middle of the carnage. Cap spun and thrust his hands into the nearest console, seeking to capture and subdue the ship¡¯s mind. It met him, snarling and furious. The blood of it¡¯s lifemate was splattered all over him. It was a brutal, but short battle. The ship struck with the ferocity of a wounded animal, flaying his mind, ripping at him. But, as great a beast as it was, it was wounded, tired- dying. He subdued it easily and within seconds was directing its guns into the sister¡¯s and brother¡¯s of its fleet, seeking out softspots that it knew on instinct. Shredding through engine cores and shields and armor. Other ships joined him as other fire teams took them over and mastered the ship''s minds. It was far from over, but the battle had turned: his human battleships joined the captured ship formation and his crew fed them targeting data from the elven ship¡¯s information core, the elves had led the assault, so he had more of their ships, but he saw some dwarven and fae vessels in their ranks as well as they turned their fire power on the allied fleet. Captain Stone¡¯s lead Dreadnought, the Drake, was now in comms range and was sending him sensor data. It had worked. They had lost over 15000 souls doing it, but the Elven and Faye fleet had lost a lot more than that. The commander of the decoy fleet that had been sent behind the enemy line to keep them busy had taken the initiative and closed with the rest of the Allied fleet. The surviving ships were burning hard for the station. His com chirped- it was the Drake. He ignored it and opened his assault team channel, ¡°How we doing?¡± Drop troopers were a reserved lot- stoic and not prone to show emotion. In the close confines of his helmet, his eardrums nearly burst at the cheers and jeers that came back. ¡°Your the craziest son of a whore that ever crawled out a cunt Cap!¡± ¡°Goddesses bloody slit that was amazing Cap! We are five by five.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s plake up another one Cap! Golden Captain boys and girls!¡± ¡°Who needs plaking battleships boys!?¡± ¡°Hell of a plan Goldie!¡± They had been dead to rights, with no chance of survival. Now, they were waiting for a pickup and watching their side mop up the pieces. The Captain of the Stone let the thrill of survival wash over him along with the aftereffects of the adrenaline. The joy thrilled through him, sending a rush along his spine. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Captain Griffin walked onto the bridge, ¡°I owe you a drink Captain Stone.¡± He smiled sadly at her, ¡°I wish I would be able to collect on that, Captain.¡± She nodded gravely. They both knew he was dead. Red brands meant disloyal thoughts. White meant disloyal actions. Nobody had ever seen gold ones before, but he was not optimistic about his chances. The Drake hailed again, this time a double chirp for urgent. He sighed and told his HUD to put it on the viewer. Captain Drake was an old weathered sailor with a permanent scowl, although Stone thought the corners of his mouth were a little higher than normal. ¡°Captain Stone, we are nearing your location and ready to receive your strike team. I have a long range cargo hauler standing by.¡± Stone nodded, ¡°Very good Captain, we would be obliged for the pick up. Why is the hauler standing by?¡± Drake cocked his head, puzzled, ¡°Fleet command was already informed of our victory sir, and is currently enroute. I thought it best if you were... elsewhere when they arrive.¡± Stone nodded very carefully not saying what could not be said, ¡°Thank you very much Captain Drake, but I am still in command of the fleet. I may not relinquish said command until I am dead or until the Lord Eringar relieves me. I would appreciate it if I had the use of some quarters on the Drake to prepare to relinquish command back to my lord.¡± Drake¡¯s eyes widened in surprise and his brand glowed a very light red, ¡°Please sir, get on the ship. We are all alive because of you. To allow you to die now would¡­¡± Stone shook his head, ¡°This is my choice, Captain. We fight, we kill and we die,¡± he recited softly, ¡°We can¡¯t choose who we fight, we usually can¡¯t choose who we kill, but now I can choose how I die. Don¡¯t take that away from me Captain.¡± Drake nodded, ¡°Pickup in five, sir¡± and cut the comm. Stone realized the laughter and celebration had stopped and the troopers and crew of the Stone were looking at him solemnly. His assault team channel had been open. They stood there in silence for a while, until Communications held his fist up to fist heart. The solute of a Dragon to a Dragon. A gesture forbidden to human hands. One by one all around him, fists went to hearts. He grinned returned the gesture, and then the Drake was there, docking with the captured vessel Griffin stepped up next to him, ¡°I am sorry sir. About Second, I mean.¡± He nodded and the memory that he had been keeping at bay hit him- the memory of seeing her transponder winking out on his hud. She had been leading the assault on engineering, and it had been hard going. "Wish she had lived to see this" Grif said He nodded again, looking at the hundred or so burning enemy ships, "It is a pretty sight" She chuckled and their suits were close enough that he could see her head shake, "You haven''t figured it out yet, have you?" Cap frowned, "Have you decided to start speaking in riddles in your old age?" She sighed, "Sir, the Drake is a Dreadnought." She said, as if that explained everything. He was too tired for this shit. He opened his mouth to tell her to speak clearly. And then closed it again. The Drake was a Dreadnought. He had just given orders to a Dreadnought captain, and they had been followed. He had been giving orders to Dreadnought Captains, destroyer Captains, all of them. Without a second thought. Dreadnoughts were the highest ranking ships, and thus the Captains of those ships outranked all others. Because of the Brands, it was impossible for anyone of a lower rank to issue orders to a higher rank: there was no warning or pain. They just died. Griffin held up her closed hand, "What is regulation 345?" He answered automatically, "Do not split your forces when outnumbered" She put up a finger, "What is regulation 4627?" Again he answered automatically, even with his brain trying to wrap itself around the previous answer, "Drop troopers are forces dedicated to planetary and stationary body assault. Use as anything else other than ship security is prohibited" "And just to make sure you are paying attention: what is regulation 121?" "Naval officers and staff shall not, under any circumstances, participate in ship to ship boarding actions" he felt like a starship had exploded next to him all over again. Three Fleet regulations that he should not have been able to ignore. But he had. The inside of his helmet glowed a soft gold as his mind whirled. No one should have been able to follow those orders. But they had. He thought about that, thought about the glowing Brands of his staff as he had laid out his battle plan. He thought about the entire fleet of ships that he had seamlessly and effortlessly taken control of, without any argument. "Captain, what did you think of my plan?" Griff grunted, "I thought is was a desperate, stupid, and horribly misguided plan." And her Brand flared red. Her eyes tightening was the only indication of the crippling pain she must be feeling. The pain of insulting a superior life form. A dragon. "Well. Plake" the Brands didn''t give a Goddesses tear about things humans said to other humans if they weren''t giving out or accepting orders. There was only one race of beings for which the Brands activated if the lack of due respect was detected. Griff nodded, "They are going to take you apart and put you back together a thousand times to figure out what you are." He sighed ¡°We serve, Captain. Always.¡± But from now on, as the Goddess as his witness, he would choose how he served. The architect of the Ambush at Kal Amore Station stepped onto the The Drake and went to a quiet room to await his fate.