“Far be it for me to oppose orders from Joint Headquarters, especially considering who are issuing them,” Abbas commented. “But I have to say, the data must have been extremely important. This is risky as all hell ....”

  Abbas wore his wedding ring—made out of solid white gold, adorned with a piece of jade—on his ring finger. When he felt anxious, he found a new way to channel it: fiddling with his ring.

  “I agree, Commander. I don’t know what Joint Headquarters is thinking. Especially with our fleets as depleted as they are,” his aide, Alice Black, concurred.

  Imperial surveillance was stricter than he expected. Abbas was forced to split his fleet into small squadrons, fanning out to search for Rear Admiral Tep. Two hundred ships were all he could afford to command directly, the rest divided into impromptu squadrons.

  Just two days in, he had already received dire reports from his aide.

  “Six out of the thirty-five squadrons have been destroyed. It seems that the Empress herself is hunting us,” Alice reported. “What do we do, Commander? At this rate, we’ll be completely annihilated.”

  Abbas pinched his forehead with three fingers. Retreat was not an option. So small a force for so tremendous a task ... whatever Rear Admiral Tep took with him must have been extremely valuable and dangerous.

  “Give me intel on her forces,” he said finally. “I’ll formulate a plan after that. Before that, order all squadrons to avoid any engagement.”

  Yue ... I’ll come back from this alive. I promise.

  “I wonder what these people are doing,” wondered Empress Katharin from her flagship, the Regalia.

  “This is highly irregular, Your Majesty,” said Commodore Vokel, Katharin’s aide. “Too many for an infiltration, too few for a direct attack. There seems to be no sense to their action.”

  “No sense indeed,” Katharin concurred. Her war gears were turning in her head, and no logical conclusion could be produced. “Unless there is something they know that we do not. Worry not about their motive. Focus on destroying them. But capture their commander alive.”

  As part of reforms, the Royal Fleet was separated into two: the Royal Fleet itself numbered thirty thousand, under the Empress’ control; the other half was renamed the High Fleet, commanded by Marshal Karl. The Empress dispatched four squadrons of six thousand ships each, leaving six thousand for herself.

  It was the third day of the expedition. More reports came in, each more alarming than the preceding one. “Three more of our squadrons have been destroyed,” Alice said. “Also, five others are down to half-strength.”

  “And the enemy?

  “This is where I have good news,” Alice continued. “The Empress herself is leading six thousand warships. She seems to be heading our way.”

  “... assemble all our ships,” Abbas said. “It’s time to try and repeat our last duel.”

  Katharin and her fleet idled near a fixed star as soon as she recognised Abbas’ gathering of his ships. “Well, that saves us the effort,” she said, humming an order for the remainder of her fleet to gather as well.

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  The Republic struck first. With a supernatural speed and aggressiveness that became his signature, Abbas launched a blitzkrieg on the Empress’ fleet that caught her off-guard. And with an equal steadiness, Katharin arrayed her fleet against him as her vanguard absorbed the initial blow. Both sides withdrew temporarily.

  Imperial ships fanned out in a wide formation, goading Abbas’ ships forward. “Hold position,” Abbas ordered firmly. “Do not fall into their provocation!”

  “Commander, enemy reinforcements are closing in,” Alice reported. “Twenty four thousand ships in total, separated into four detachments of equal size. We have to win this battle before they arrive, or we’ll be crushed.”

  “How far are they? Give me the time distance.”

  Computers ran countless algorithms at once, producing a single answer: “the closest enemy is an hour away.”

  All the while Imperial forces continued to thin their formation to envelop the Republic’s cowed ships. “Good ...,” Abbas muttered. “Deploy forces to attack the wings of the enemy formation. In the chaos, we’ll attack the center.”

  That’s the best thing I can think of right now. If only you’re here, Yue ....

  Following orders, the Republic struck the Empire’s wings. “Your Majesty, our wing squadrons are under heavy attack. Shall we reinforce them?” Vokel asked.

  “That’ll play right into his hands,” Katharin said. “He’s trying to take me hostage again, you see.”

  “But what will we do? If we don’t impede him, our flanks will be destroyed.”

  “Have them retreat slowly alongside the entire fleet. Time is on our side after all. But also ....” In several intense seconds, Katharin relayed her plan to the entire fleet.

  The entire Imperial fleet withdrew slowly. “Damn. She’s figured me out,” Abbas commented. He was exerting every last bit of mind left in him to come up with a new solution when an Imperial squadron in the center of its formation seemed to malfunction. The entire Imperial retreat stopped as engineer ships rushed to the aid of the malfunctioning squadron, which in turn prompted several squadrons to come forth and guard the engineer ships.

  Concentrating every single ship he could muster, Abbas hurled a frontal assault at the disarrayed Imperials. The Empress’ ship’s golden hull seemed to be in sight.

  “Go!” Abbas commanded, all gung-ho. If the commanding officer had looked dejected, there would have been no hope for his dwindling fleet. And for a while it was as if the hearts of Battlefleet Tristan’s crew had been revitalized by a sudden jolt of energy. Sowing death and destruction in their path, they were as werewolves of legend, ready to seize the red-hooded girl ....

  Two minute. Two minutes was all that it took for the Empress to masterfully retreat her fleet temporarily, trapping Battlefleet Tristan between numberless column of great ships. The ‘malfunctioning’ squadron was in fact working properly, playing its role in the Empress’ opera.

  “I guess retreat was an option, after all,” Abbas said. “Alice, I want you and as many personnel to evacuate the Quetzalcoatl. Especially you. I need you to return to the Republic and explain things to the Joint Headquarters.”

  “Commander ... you!”

  “Form the spindle formation. We’ll break through!”

  Evacuating most of the crew, the Quetzalcoatl led from the rear, holding the line for the rest of the Republic’s warships as they tried to escape. Led by Lieutenant Commander Alice Black, a mere three thousand ships fled into black space. The Quetzalcoatl, and a handful of escort ships, failed to escape. Everywhere was strewn the destroyed blue-and-white hulls of Armada ships.

  The Empress, against all reason and decorum, decided to lead the boarding party herself. This was against the advice of, quite literally, every single member of her crew.

  “Your Majesty, even though the enemy commander has surrendered, if he or his men knew it is you who are coming, they might have an idea to kill you,” Vokel argued. “Your life is too precious and this situation is one of such high risk and yet produces very little gain. Allow us to detain him and then you can speak with him safely.”

  “I want to do this, Vokel.”

  Flanked by lines of Imperial soldiers, Katharin boarded the Quetzalcoatl. Paying no mind to the few remaining Republic soldiers, she headed straight to the command room. Abbas stood tall, fiddling with his ring one last time, in front of the Empress.

  “So, it is you,” she said. Her eyes went from up to down, scanning Abbas’ frame. “Vice Admiral Abbas al-Salem.”

  “And you are the Empress of the Empire of Grand Arcadia, Katharin, I take it?” he replied.

  “That is so,” Katharin replied. “We have much to talk about later. Guards, detain him. Put him under house arrest in the Throneworld.”