The scant few warships of the task squadron that Abbas led fled back to Republican space, now commanded by Lieutenant Commander Alice Black. Hounded by Imperial patrols and hunting squadrons unleashed by the Empress, she nevertheless succeded in preserving her fleet’s structure and reporting back to Joint Headquarters. She had something special that Abbas trusted her to deliver: complete records on the Quetzalcoatl’s orders—the ship’s black box, so to speak.

  Within a few days, Joint Headquarters was almost in full panic mode, culminating in an angry Yue storming a meeting between the Republic’s two living marshals. It was said her fury was so terrible, that the guards outside the meeting room made way without resistance. The two marshals’ implicit approval of her attendance probably played a bigger part than that tale.

  “What is the meaning of this!?” she roared, hurling her fist fearsomely at the table. “A fleet straight into Imperial space? You sent my husband on a death trap!”

  “We didn’t,” Marshal Popov said pointedly. “The analysis of the black box has just been finished. Someone replicated our codes and sent an order for him to pursue Rear Admiral Tep. Rear Admiral Tep doesn’t even exist. Nor is the flagship Retep.”

  “This is almost too crazy to believe,” Marshal Tang said, fixing her eyepatch. “Who could’ve done this? The only possible answer is the Empire, isn’t it?”

  The thought was too terrifying to bear. Could this signal that the Empire finally had technological superiority such that the Republic's defense systems were now hopeless before it? How could they fight if they couldn't even discern true orders from the fakes?

  And if not the Empire, who on this galaxy could've done such a thing? And for what reason?

  "Whatever the case, our strength is at its nadir right now," Marshal Popov emphasized. "I'll notify the Intelligence Department to investigate this matter immediately."

  "And what about Abbas?" Yue groaned.

  For once nobody seemed to be able to mouth out the response that everyone knew. Unless the imperial government agreed to a hostage exchange, there’d be no way for Abbas to return home. Yue’s small eyes, glittering like gemstones, widened in horror.

  “Hek!”

  It felt as if a storm of acid was brewing in Yue’s stomach, clawing at her innards. She just barely managed to grab a brown bag to vomit into. Her legs became weak, and then all turned to black. “Yue! Medic, come here quick!” shouts erupted, but Yue couldn’t hear them.

  Yue woke up a few hours later to the silence of an army hospital room. As a high-ranking officer, she had been afforded the best care, with a doctor and a nurse personally waiting on her. Her room was spacious and clean, with no other patient. Though she couldn’t care less about that.

  “Did I lose consciousness?” she asked the old doctor, gazing at the white ceiling and feeling the cool breeze of the air conditioner on her skin. Her usual uniform was gone, replaced by a patient’s bedgown.

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  “You did, Admiral,” the doctor answered. “You tumbled and hit your head. The cause was stomach acid triggered by extreme stress. That was very dangerous. Both for you and the baby. I’m glad you’re safe.”

  “The ... the what? The baby?”

  “Admiral, you have been pregnant for six, maybe seven weeks,” the doctor said. “Please rest here. We will conduct tests thoroughly and prescribe you supplements. You have been overworked and your health, though in no serious danger, is somewhat worrying.”

  “I’m ... pregnant?”

  There was a silence so still the air itself felt frozen in place. The doctor and the nurse exchanged glances as Yue stared at them—or perhaps merely at a general direction where they were.

  "I didn't know that," Yue said emptily. “I suppose I have been busy. Never had the time to check.”

  It must have been from before Abbas went to the frontier. I guess the timing makes sense.

  "Oh! Then we should be informing the husband," the doctor said happily.

  "That won't be possible," Yue replied. "Can you give me some privacy, Doctor?"

  "Of course, Admiral," the doctor said, intimated by Yue's blizzard.

  "What a fucked up world ...," Yue groaned to herself, throwing her weight against the hospital bed, her fingers pinching her forehead. "I wonder how you're, Abbas. You should be here and we should be celebrating ...."

  "I see. I'm happy for her. Though the circumstances are very unfortunate," was Marshal Tang's response to the news.

  That statement was double-edged. Aside from Yue’s personal circumstances, her pregnancy—and sickness—during the Armada’s greatest administrative crisis was another blow to its recovery efforts.

  One bright point was the speed of the Intelligence Division. They had identified a group of three men who sent out that false order from within Joint Headquarters itself. Unfortunately, when apprehended, they decided to commit suicide. Further investigation had been ordered.

  Yue was in no mood to eat her dinner that night. “I have no appetite,” she said, pushing her tray away.

  “Admiral, if you do not eat, your condition will only grow worse. Especially considering your pregnancy,” the old doctor said.

  Yue relented, and started sipping from the tasteless soup. I suppose being bad at cooking is the prerequisite to work at hospitals, Yue thought to herself.

  The taste of the soup was made bitter when Lieutenant Commander Alice Black came in with a basket of fruits.

  “Admiral, as Vice Admiral al-Salem--your husband—‘s aide, I came to visit,” she said, saluting firmly before putting the basket on a nearby table.

  “Ah. Our very lucky lieutenant commander. Do you get another promotion for this?” Yue asked with a malicious, twisted smile. “Do you actually like this? Running like a rat—“

  The fearsome anger seized her. “Why did my husband have to sacrifice himself for a disgusting, filthy rat like you!? And you dare come here, as if taunting me? Listen, girl, your protector’s no more. Blown to space dust. And if I have my way you’ll join him soon.”

  Yue was even reaching for her side pocket, where her pistol was usually kept. Nobody could discern whether it was a deliberate, intimidative maneuever or if she was so furious that she had intended to shoot Alice. Nevertheless, each sentence was like a bullet flying mercilessly at Alice.

  “... no, Admiral,” Alice, despite having her heart punctured, replied, “Vice Admiral al-Salem ordered me to lead the fleet back and bring back the flagship’s black box. He ... is a hero, Admiral.”

  “He did? That’s just like him,” Yue said. “He did the same for me at Ventii, too. I’m sorry, Lieutenant Commander.”

  “It’s nothing, Admiral. I’ll take my leave now. Please rest—for his sake, too.”

  Alice left. Her heart was aching too, but there was no way she could express it so openly in front of Yue. Unknown to one another, both spoke the same words in their hearts.

  “I miss you, Abbas.”