Babylon 5 A Fighting Chance --- A Babylon 5 AU

[Harlock]

9


Cyrus Colony.



“Time?”

“At most ten minutes.” Neroon answered. “Sensor buoys are already down.”

“How swiftly is the evacuation proceeding?” Branmer asked.

“Most of our key personnel are already clear. Unfortunately we’re not going to be able to evacuate our supply dumps.”

“Have the Ingata destroy them.”

“Understood.” Neroon grunted. “We only just refilled them after the last attack.”

“Fortunes of war Alyt. Better burnt to ash than held by humans.”

Neroon could see little fortunate in this battle. They were alive but had lost more than half their number and many ships that did survive were heavily damaged. The fleet that returned to Cyrus was battered and scorched, their hulls scored black by weapons fire and missing great chunks from their flanks. Most had damage to the poorly protected drive fins harming their mobility, several had been struck by massed pulse fire or missiles and were gnarled and torn. A couple were still burning, their crews too depleted to repair the damage.

They were a sorry sight, a defeated force and the humiliation was not done yet.


“The main batch of transports are clear.” Neroon reported sombrely. “We only have six left, they should be at the gate shortly.”

“I want all ships ready to jump.” Branmer said. “We’re in no position to take on the Earth fleet.”

“Our second fleet is standing by at the border to block any human attempts to cross into our space.” Neroon reported. “The Council is with them. They have requested your presence.”

“I’m sure their invitation was not so polite.”

“No Shai Alyt.” Neroon shook his head. “I think they will blame you for this.”

“It is the nature of government to shift blame. We lost because Earth gained an advantage and exploited it. We did the same thing earlier in the war, we inflicted a defeat which no doubt shook humanity to the core. They accepted the losses, adapted, and struck back hard. I only hope we do the same thing and do not allow wounded pride to dictate our strategy.”

“Will they appoint a new Shai Alyt?”

“Almost certainly.” Branmer nodded. “Sineval wants the job, but it will be over Coplann’s dead body. No, I’d expect they will give it to Shakiri.”

“Shakiri is more clever than Sineval.” Neroon agreed. “But he is still a Windsword and he has an uncompromising interpretation of honour. I do not think he will distinguish between warrior and civilian as you have.”

There was a gentle chime, both officers looking up at the curtain of images surrounding them.

“It appears our time is up. Withdraw by flotilla, launch missiles on the way out to slow the humans down.”



EAS Charlemagne.


“We’re in position Admiral, Captain Maynard reports Minbari forces are scattered and retreating.”

“Jump in with the lead elements.” Admiral Ferguson ordered. “Dreadnoughts front, jump in as close as we dare. We’ll try and bring some down before they bolt.”

This time the caution and need to weigh up the enemy were no longer needed, Ferguson knew what he was up against, he knew what the enemy could throw at him and he knew it wasn’t nearly enough to stop him. It was time to be bold, to hit the enemy with fury and firepower and try to finish off his wounded opponent. His fighter squadrons had done their bit, today he’d let his battleships draw blood.

The heavy warships surged forward, receiving their coordinates from Maynard’s scout mission. Each Dreadnought went in with a pair or corvettes for safety, the rest of the EA fleet close behind.

“Make sure the enhanced ships go in first.” Ferguson reminded. “Jump them straight into the action.”


The transition was quick, the Dreadnoughts knew where the Minbari were and jumped within a few hundred kilometres, their guns already tracking before they even left the vortex. Minbari missiles were launched to meet them, tremendously powerful weapons but few in number, barely target practice for the Olympus corvettes which swiftly went to work.

“Contact forward, Minbari in sight!” Commander Kawoo picked the three closest ships as the EAS Warspite blazed out of hyperspace, the brutal looking warship fully prepared to live up to its appearance.

“Lock main cannons, fire as they bear!” Captain Black replied sharply. “All ahead flank, do not let them run!”

The Minbari were powering up to jump but with the EA ships jumping out almost on top of them the few moments they needed to activate their drives, create a vortex and cross the event horizon gave Earth a free shot. It was a very brief window, but fortunately for Earth there was no ship in service that could fill such a fleeting moment with more hurt and pain than a Nova with a target in its firing arcs.


The Warspite unloaded into the nearest ships, engaging a battered Sharlin and three Frigates. It wasn’t even a contest, the semi automatic rail guns went through the Minbari ships without even slowing down, carrying thousands of tons of debris with them as the exited their targets. She put nearly a hundred rounds through the Minbari ships in less than three seconds, at the end of that time there was nothing resembling a warship left.

Not to be outdone the EAS Nemesis was also neck deep in pieces of blue hull, blasting pulses in every direction in a spectacular display of violence, wreathing the ship in flames and shimmering crystal fragments. Two dozen Dreadnoughts turned everything in range into scrap in just seconds. The pure scale of the destruction was extraordinary, the speed with which a further forty ships were simply erased from existence was genuinely blood chilling.

Further out the remaining Minbari ships made the jump, deploying countermeasures as the remaining Earth ships arrived to decoy the volley of missiles Ferguson fired at them through the red tumult. It was a gamble, the Minbari were using a different beacon and were at extreme range for hyperspace, none of the missiles hit and Ferguson wasn’t about to chase them over the border.


“They were ready for us.” Commander Austin exhaled. “Looks like they evacuated most of the colony too.”

“A shame, but I suppose this isn’t the moment to complain.” Ferguson said. “We hit those ships hard, I doubt they’ll be back in action for months. Deploy in guard formation, if I were the Minbari I’d start launching spoiling attacks straight away.”

“Sending out the orders sir.”

“Then tell the army to move in, if there are Minbari still down there we’ll have to weed them out.”

“The Normandy was holding a few minutes behind us, I think they were crawling the walls in there expecting to hit Jericho.”

“Now they’ll get their chance on Cyrus.” Ferguson shrugged. “Break them out and get them planetside.”

“Admiral.” The communications officer interrupted. “Sir, I have a signal coming in from Geneva. It’s the President.”

“And I thought only bad news travelled fast.” Ferguson chuckled. “I’ll take it in the briefing room, keep me informed of any changes Commander.”

“I suppose this counts as a victory.” Austin observed. “People are going to be happy.”

“I think we’ve earned it.” Ferguson agreed. On the main plot the sensors showed clearly the debris field left behind by the Fourth Fleet weeks earlier, the cold graves of thousands of his friends and colleagues. “But we’re still nowhere close to being even.”





Earth


“The initial reports are better than we could have hoped for. Far better.”

Vice President Karl Durban lay the file down on his table with a deliberate whack, the soft card jacket making a suitably satisfying sound. It was perhaps the first report he’d read that hadn’t darkened his mood, the first indications of an upswing in fortune.

Naturally Durban wasn’t about to break out the champagne just yet, but it did offer a ray of hope in an otherwise bleak future. Durban had been one of Earth’s best spies, one of only a handful to outwit the legendary Centauri Secret Service in the field before eventually finding himself promoted to Chief of the Earth Intelligence Agency. Under his stewardship the EIA fashioned itself into an even more formidable instrument of human security, it’s track record in the Dilgar war speaking for itself.

Not long afterwards Durban had followed in the footsteps of many Intelligence Chiefs and stepped into politics rather easily winning nomination to sit in the Senate on behalf of his native Australia. He’d risen swiftly to the cabinet until selected by President Levy as her running mate and later Vice President, a role he saw as practice for the Presidency itself.

Assuming of course there was an Earth left to preside over.


“We achieved a better than even loss ratio, even our most optimistic assessments believed we would still suffer in the face of the Minbari.” He remarked to his quest. “The Joint Chiefs are ecstatic.”

“They should allow themselves a little relief, this victory will certainly be great for morale and will boost our reputation abroad.” The guest agreed. “But we both know the odds of us winning this war are still against us.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not.” Durban considered. “Now we can see them we can hit them.”

“And they can still hit us too, from greater range with greater accuracy. We won these battles because we achieved complete tactical surprise, the Minbari had no idea we could do this, they weren’t prepared. Next time they will be.”

“I think so too.” Durban manoeuvred towards the point of this little meeting. “Which is why we need to make sure that our fleets have every advantage. Like you.”


Akira Hamato managed a very, very faint smile, about the closest anyone outside his close family ever witnessed as a display of emotion.

“For a spy master you are not very subtle.”

“Only when I need to be. You knew exactly what this meeting was about long before you stepped on the plane, why try and hide it?”

“You have plenty of flag officers, good competent officers.” Hamato spoke flatly. “Ferguson is doing a fine job commanding the fleet, Denisov is also available after giving up his desk job. Why talk to me?”

“Because you have a name people know and respect.” Durban returned plainly. “You built a reputation in the Dilgar war, you fought hard battles against the best commanders the galaxy had seen. People who had crushed all resistance, annihilated thousands of ships and relentlessly conquered the League. Yet you beat them.”

“Not entirely.”

“No, not entirely.” Durban accepted. “Which brings us to the point.”

“When I resigned after the war it was not on good terms. I’m surprised the government let me keep my pension.”

“You did make a bit of a scene on galaxy wide media. You can’t expect the government to tolerate that sort of insubordination.”

“It was perhaps fortunate my daughter persuaded me not to commit Seppuku.”

“I expect it would have been hell to get the stains out of the carpet.”


The former Admiral remained silent for a moment, clearly contemplating this new sequence of events. For him the Dilgar war had been a betrayal, even with the Dilgar victory at Balos it was obvious they were broken and cracking. They could not sustain a war any further, if Earth had rearmed, regrouped, replaced her losses and hit back four or five months later it would have been a straight run to Omelos. But doing so would have condemned hundreds of thousands of soldiers to death on Balos under the Dilgar siege. Hamato was prepared to make that sacrifice for final victory, President Hauser and the Senate were not, especially with a very appealing Dilgar armistice before them.

“The President may have changed, but most of the cabinet voted for the armistice. Why would they want me back?”

“Because you remain the best Admiral we have.”

“Admiral Ferguson…”

“Is a great commander and will remain Admiral of the Fleet.” Durban affirmed. “But everyone knows he’s as good as he is because you taught him the game, along with almost all our other senior officers. They are products of the Dilgar War Navy, and that Navy was built in your image. They still call you the Father of Earth Force, you made the modern military, you and Denisov. The Nova Dreadnoughts, the new generation Furies, the doctrine that goes with them, this was yours.”

“The fleet has moved away from my doctrine, after I left the senate retired most of the missile cruisers and rail gun ships I wanted.”


“They’re being reactivated.” Durban smiled slightly. “Along with any prototype, limited run ship and half serviceable wreck we can stick a cannon on. The Joint Chiefs are partying right now but they know this is going to be a war to the knife, worse than the Dilgar. What’s happening now makes the mobilisation we had for the Dilgar look like a school trip. We have ships, we have skilled officers, we are training crews, but we need someone to be the face of the new Navy.”

“And you are looking at me?”

“It isn’t just public relations, though that is a big part of it. No one is going to be happy serving on a ship dragged out of mothballs or sent into battle still smelling of paint and grease, but they’ll be a hell of a lot happier if they know they have an Admiral like you calling the shots.”

“And from a practical point of view you need someone with experience training and organising an untested fleet.”

“Precisely.” Durban nodded. “The standing fleet isn’t a worry, they know their stuff, but the secondary fleets are either raw recruits or reservists who have been out of the loop too long. In a perfect world we’ll never need them, the front line units will handle everything. But you know as well as I do that losses are going to skyrocket in the next couple of weeks and we’ll need to throw more ships into battle. You can give them a better chance of making it home again.”


“What does the President think about this?” Hamato asked. “She was Hauser’s protégé, I can’t see her being too thrilled.”

“President Levy understands the necessity.” Durban replied. “She’ll take anything which gives us an edge.”

The old Admiral grew slightly more dour, which was something of an achievement.

“Speaking of dealing with the devil.” He dropped his voice. “I’ve heard rumours.”

“Still have friends in high places?” Durban snorted. “The Old Boys Network was always the best source of intelligence.”

“Don’t derail the discussion.” The Admiral pressed. “Did you make a deal with Deathwalker for these advanced sensors?”

“No.” Durban answered.

“No?” Hamato repeated.

“You asked a question, that is the answer.”

“I know you were a spy, and that you are a politician, but I want a better answer than that.”

Durban leaned forward, his eyes suddenly animated. “Alright, yes we did make a deal with the Dilgar, no, it wasn’t Deathwalker but only a fool would suspect she didn’t have her hand in it. No, I don’t give a damn if she is pulling our strings because this deal might save our species.”

“I see.”

“With all due respect Admiral I know this game a lot better than you do, there is no way this deal came our way right when we needed it most without some sort of price tag.” Durban grunted. “There’s a lot more at work here, but I officially don’t care. At this point if Deathwalker wanted to put a leash on my neck and make me beg for treats I’d do it if it gave our navy a chance to win this war, because before the Dilgar showed up we were losing hard.”


He crossed his arms, bleeding off his temper.

“I don’t care if you approve or not, I will handle the Dilgar and their schemes, you get back in uniform and get our second line forces into a fit enough shape so they aren’t just lambs to the slaughter.”

“Alright.” Hamato said without further discourse. “But I know the Dilgar, they are playing us.”

“Almost certainly.” Durban agreed. “But just like you built the fleet, I built our intelligence network. Trust them to do their job as well as we trust your people to do theirs.”

“Very well.” Hamato inclined his head. “What is my next move.”

“I already have a ship waiting to take you to Proxima.”

“You must have been very confident I would accept your proposal.”

The Vice President half smiled.

“I didn’t get to where I am without knowing how to read a person. You are a man of duty, even when that duty seemed to abandon you, you did not abandon it. Your fleet will be waiting for you along with all the information and clearances you’ll need. Welcome back to the Force Admiral.”

“One condition. I want to pick my own Captain.”

“Someone in mind?”

This time Hamato really did smile.

“One name suggests itself.”




Somewhere in Minbari space.



“Summoned, I stand before the Nine.”

Branmer didn’t flinch, whatever was about to happen he was utterly resolute in his choices, fully accepting of the consequences. The Council was going to crucify him and he would let them, compared to the alternative of losing the lives of everyone in his fleet this was a tiny price to pay.

“Branmer of the Family Mir, Star Riders clan.” Jenimer began, his voice bearing the authority of his rank. “You are called to answer your actions. Also present is Neroon of the Star Riders who will serve as witness.”

Neroon was far less comfortable, positively seething with rage at this apparent injustice.

“Branmer, by your own report you admit to losing more than half of your fleet.” Jenimer continued. “You also accept that you withdrew from all human territory we had previously seized, and further allowed some of our installations to fall into human hands.”

“The last is not accurate, I ordered the facilities destroyed.” Branmer clarified. “The rest is accurate, I offer no denials.”

“Do you wish to speak in your defence?”

“My report has all the relevent information. I have nothing further to say.”

“Shai Alyt?” Neroon frowned angrily, the older Minbari subtly shaking his head. It was not the time or place for an argument.

“Then the Council will decide what is to be done.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Morann scoffed loudly. “Branmer has failed spectacularly as a war leader! This is what happens when priests lead fleets!”

“It is not as if your choice did much better.” Coplann shot back.

“At least he had the common decency to die with his ship, not flee for home!”


Neroon started forward, again forcing Branmer to check him from laying into Morann and causing more trouble.

“It is customary for Minbari Warriors never to flee, to fight and die if necessary despite great odds.” The Shai Alyt spoke up. “But I ask what good is a dead soldier when we need living warriors? What use is a ship destroyed in a hopeless fight when it can be saved, repaired, then used again in a more advantageous battle?”

“You dare question our traditions priest?” Morann growled. “You dare belittle our honour?”

“What you call honour I call short sightedness.”

Morann began to turn a deep shade of red, Neroon glaring at him, daring him to lose his temper.

“This is preposterous!”

“Retreat is not dishonourable if it is not done out of fear.” Branmer clarified. “Withdrawing from battle is a strategy, no more or less honourable than a flanking attack or forced march. It is a tool to be used, a mere tactic, it has no greater significance than that. If it serves a better purpose why should we refuse to embrace it?”

“You are talking heresy!”

“Then perhaps heresy is needed!” Branmer declared loudly. “Perhaps it is time the Warrior Caste removed itself from the cycle of being bound by traditions and looked beyond itself. You may speak of tradition, but tradition does not deflect plasma fire or vaporise enemy ships!”

“Neither does running away!”

“No, but it does preserve our strength so we may return another day with more ships and just as importantly more veteran crew than we would otherwise have.”


“Neroon.” Jenimer shifted his focus. “You are a respected warrior, a student of Durhan, there is no one here who would question your credentials.”

“Alyt Neroon's ability is not in question.” Morann stated quickly. “It is Branmer who…”

“If I may continue.” Jenimer chided. “Alyt Neroon, in your assessment did the Shai Alyt make the correct decision?”

“The situation was against us.” Neroon looked around the circle, the illuminated figures silent as he spoke. If anything this was more intimidating than facing a thousand Earth Dreadnoughts. “The enemy struck with massive force on favourable terms. Somehow it appears they have broken our stealth systems.”

“How is this possible?”

“I do not know, but it is fact, I witnessed it myself. Given the enemy strength, their superior position and numbers, if we had stayed we would have been wiped out without significantly weakening the human fleet. It would have been a total defeat.”

“So you admit Branmer failed in his position?” Morann demanded.

“There is no warrior who could have won that battle.” Neroon returned forcefully. “And there is no warrior who could have extricated as many ships as the Shai Alyt did from that disaster. Instead of accusing him of incompetence you should be praising him for showing such insight and control of his forces!”

“Then perhaps it was not incompetence. Perhaps it was cowardice.”


“Enough!” Jenimer banged the tall staff of the Council leader on the metal floor, the sound deafening in the chamber. “Dukhat would not tolerate such insults, do not assume I will either! Neroon’s testimony is accepted.”

“If I may make one more comment?” Neroon addressed Jenimer.

“Speak.”

“I was not convinced Shai Alyt Branmer was the best choice for the role. When I was assigned I was sceptical of following a scholar rather than a veteran warrior. However I have learned that this is not a war of simple warriors but one of thinkers and scholars. As Valen was both scholar and warrior I say do not judge Branmer by what was lost but by what was preserved.”

“Would you follow him again?” Jenimer asked. “Even after this defeat?”

“To the surface of Z’Ha’Dum and back.”

“So noted.”

Jenimer stepped back towards the circle of light that marked his place in the circle.

“We will vote. Those who wish to retain Branmer as Shai Alyt, be known.”

Most of the lights went out, only Coplann and Delenn remained illuminated along with Jenimer himself.

“The Council has decided. Branmer of the Family Mir you will step down from the post of Shai Alyt.”

“I accept the judgement of the Council.”

“We must now decide upon a new Shai Alyt, and what punishment if any to assign you.”


“Given the lack of judgement shown by my fellow Satai,” Morann glared at Coplann. “I suggest the new Shai Alyt be from the Windsword clan.”

“The first Shai Alyt of the war was too, do you remember him Morann? He managed to lose the Black Star!” Coplann sneered. “Do not act as if your clan has a spotless record.”

“Rather than turn this into yet another chapter in the rivalry between your to clans,” Delenn interrupted. “Is there a leader from one of the other warrior houses we can summon?”

“Only Althain of the Nightwalkers commands the respect and power necessary to lead.” Branmer answered. “And sadly Althain is a master of ground combat. What is needed is a leader who has studied space combat.”

“The Star Riders nominate Alyt Neroon.” Coplann announced.

“Neroon is acknowledged as a worthy warrior, but with respect he does not have the experience needed for a task of this importance.” One of the Worker class stated. “In time perhaps, but if the situation is as dire as it seems we need a skilled and experienced leader at once.”

“Sineval would be…” Morann began.

“If you wish to continue walking you will stop yourself from finishing that sentence.” Coplann sneered.

“Then I suggest Shakiri.” Jenimer offered. “As I understand it he is a skilled warrior well learned in the art of starship combat, he is not so… inflexible shall we say, as Sineval, but he is still a Windsword. Does this meet your approval?”

Morann nodded. “The Windswords approve.”

Coplann also nodded, less enthusiastically. “The Star Riders reluctantly approve.”

“Any objections?”

None of the Council made comment.

“Then Shakiri will be promoted to Shai Alyt.”


“Very well.” Morann accepted. “What is to be done with Branmer?”

“It would be unwise to cast aside such a source of wisdom.” Coplann defended his kinsman. “While he may not lead our fleets he has skills we need. He should not be sent back to the temple.”

“You suggest a lesser role for him?” Jenimer inquired.

“With recent losses we are being forced to reactivate many of our older ships. As you know the Warrior Caste forms the main offensive element of our combat strength, but each of the three castes has its own forces used for patrol and defence. We have begun taking these workers and religious caste crews from their lesser roles and placing them into the reactivated ships where they will form a reserve.”

“But while these crews know how to operate their ships they do not have the knowledge of warfare we possess.” Neroon recognised Coplann’s plan. “They would require a teacher, someone both warrior and scholar.”

“Someone who had already made the transition from one of the other castes into being a warrior.” Jenimer nodded. “A wise use of resources. Shall we assign Alyt Branmer to administer the training and organisation of our reserve forces?”

Only Morann predictably objected.

“Then it is done. Branmer will assume command of the reserve fleet. Neroon, you will join Shakiri as his aide.”

“With respect I prefer to stay with Alyt Branmer.”

Jenimer frowned.

“Shakiri is now Shai Alyt, serving with him is a clear way to gain fame and glory.”

“But not wisdom. For that I must follow a different leader.”

“As you wish. Leave now, turn to your duties. We will summon Shakiri and see where the universe leads us next.”

 

[Harlock]

10



Quadrant 7

Narn/Drazi border



The Narn Colony was relatively sparse, a single domed outpost with a token population. The military outnumbered the civilians by a significant margin with the space station above heavily armed and filled with soldiers and fighter bays offering only scant facilities to travellers and traders. It didn’t matter much, beside the military no one really came out here.

The reason could be summed up in one word. Drazi.

Relations between the Narn and Drazi had been strained for a long time ever since first contact when the expansionist and aggressive Narn had bumped up against the stubborn and equally aggressive Drazi. While both sides avoided full scale war border skirmishes were a frequent occurrence with neither side displaying a clear superiority, the only real movement on the border came when the Narn seized a handful of worlds and outposts from the Drazi at the height of the Dilgar war, an act which backfired slightly when the Dilgar struck a captured world regardless of ownership and massacred thousands of Narn.

The Narn government had swept that under the carpet at the time in return for technology and resources from the Dilgar who were happy to oblige. It was an open secret that the Narn had collaborated with the Dilgar and sold them a lot of weaponry including mass driver components taken from Centauri depots. As an added insult the Narn had not returned most of the outposts taken from the Drazi at their moment of greatest weakness, an act of treachery that sent the average Drazi into an apoplectic rage.

Quadrant 7 therefore remained fairly barren, the site of simmering tensions and countless minor battles. It was therefore not unusual to see a Drazi fleet arrive in combat formation, several squadrons of Sunhawks swooping around to approach the Narn station dominating the approaches to the colony.


But this time no gunfire rose to meet the Drazi strike ships, nor did the Narn cruisers move to respond. Most of the Narn ships were sluggish elderly assault cruisers but loitering on the far side of the station were a pair of gleaming and garish G’Quan class heavy cruisers, the new pride of the Narn fleet. Ships of that type rarely deployed away from the Centauri border, their presence was just one more indicator of unfolding events.

The Drazi fleet settled into a wary holding pattern near the station, the Narn keeping an equally wary eye on them. Neither side had weapons armed but they maintained a combat posture ready to break into violence at the first sign of trouble. A single shuttle exited the Drazi flagship, the closest thing the Drazi fleet had to a cruiser and still dwarfed by the G’Quans on station nearby, and landed in the civilian bay.

Neither side really trusted each other, meetings like this were rare and usually ended in at the very least punches being thrown. The last attempt at a summit had cost the Narn three cruisers and nearly triggered an all out war, subverted only by Centauri manoeuvres necessitating the Narn navy stay on the border.

For the two governments to meet face to face in spite of all the mistrust, the bad blood, the shared penchant for rapidly losing their tempers, it was a sign of how seismic events in the galaxy had become.


The Drazi commander arrived with only two guards, a pair of warriors flanking him and surveying every inch of the journey. Both guards were clearly veterans, their bony heads notched from gladiatorial bouts and front line combat service. They walked as if they knew they could take this station alone if they had to, and perhaps they were right.

Between them walked the focus of this meeting, an individual the Drazi had elevated to near legend. Warleader Stro’kath was everything a Drazi should be, a man who preferred to let actions do most of his expressing and had proven a very fluent communicator. He was regarded as the saviour of his people, the man who had turned back the Dilgar and liberated Drazi space. He had taken on politicians and his own incompetent superiors and he had cast them down in true Drazi style, by hitting them until their eyes bled.

With his war record, his untarnished reputation as a fighter and his surprising eloquence and insight when it came to diplomacy Stro’kath commanded respect and obedience like no other. A rare achievement indeed for a race as divided and argumentative as the Drazi.

To meet him the Narn had sent their own rising star, someone who could also speak with eloquence and who could navigate the treacherous waters of diplomacy with confidence, but also somoene who wouldn’t really be missed if Stro’kath decided to just stab him. Given their topic of conversation that was a very real possibility.


“You are G’Kar?” Stro’kath wasted no breath on pleasantries.

“I am.” The much taller Narn introduced himself. “On behalf of my government I welcome you to this facility and…”

“Why don’t we just get on with it?” The Drazi pushed.

“Very well, direct to the point I see.” G’Kar smiled broadly. “Your reputation proceeds you, shall we?”

They stepped out of the docking bay and entered a drab corridor. While the station had simulated gravity it was clearly built on the cheap. Even Earth Force stations were more welcoming than this.

“I have a lot of things to do.” Stro’kath growled. “The only reason I am here is because your government said it involved my missing fleet.”

“Yes, the ships you were sending to aid Earth. They would have been very useful I am sure.”

“Do you know something about them?” Stro’kath put a hard edge in his voice. He wasn’t young, by Drazi standards he was in advanced middle age, but he was still an incredibly intimidating presence by anyone’s standard.

“I wish I did.” G’Kar offered, remaining entirely calm as he reached their destination.

“Then if you have nothing to tell me why am I here?”

“Because it wasn’t the Narn government that wanted to speak with you.”


Only one person was waiting in the conference room, standing behind a long table with the same confidence of command Stro’kath possessed, the ease of a person who had faced death on a massive scale and survived. Stro’kath’s two guards instantly tensed as they saw the dark blue of a Dilgar uniform, the old warleader subtly indicating they should stand down. It wasn’t a trap, it was certainly a surprise, but it wasn’t treachery. Not this Dilgar.

“Supreme Warmarster Dar’sen.”

“Warleader Stro’kath.”

Both of them stood at the opposite ends of the table motionless, eyes locked, weighing up the situation. G’Kar fidgeted slightly beside Stro’kath keenly aware that the Drazi leader was carrying more knives and blades than a decent sized kitchen. Putting a man who made his name killing Dilgar, the race that had tried and nearly succeeded in exterminating his species, in the same room as the current leader of that same race constituted a gamble of explosive proportions.


G’Kar wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, but recognised the potential benefits to his career if things went well.

For his part Dar’sen was calm, his face more lined and hair going white. It had been a long time since he had led forces in battle, like Stro’kath they were old soldiers now running their respective nations seperated from the blood and fire which had made them. Of all the Dilgar Dar’sen was generally seen as the superior warrior, most considered him a better fleet commander than even Jha’dur though he lacked her more devious qualities. He had fought with far less resources for far longer than Jha’dur had and never needed to resort to terror attacks or mass murder to achieve his goals, and his chief opponent in that time had been Stro’kath.


“I have said that I would kill anyone in this galaxy to have a chance to stand face to face with the hero of Omelos.” Stro’kath finally said. “That my greatest wish, the one thing I still want in life, is to face you in single combat to the death.”

G’Kar slowly began to back away.

“I was the last Warmaster to be inducted into the nobility by the Emperor.” Dar’sen answered calmly. “By the old code if you challenge me to a duel I must accept.”

“I have fought thousands of opponents, most of them I barely remember their names or faces. But you are the only one I never truly defeated. You are the only fight I never finished, and by far my favourite.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Dar’sen flickered a smile. “You were always a challenge Stro’kath, never boring.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” The Drazi grunted a laugh. “I will fight you, I know you are a trained duellist, I know that our battle will become a legend and I know that it will be my last fight. Even if I win I will never fight again in honour of that contest. But it will not be this day.”

He pulled out a chair.

“I am Drazi, I cannot deny it is in my nature to seek out battle with a worthy enemy and I know of none more worthy than you Warmaster. But I must also look to my duty. I came here for answers, looking for the truth about my lost warriors. If you know anything then I ask you to speak truthfully.”


Dar’sen sat down, Stro’kath doing the same and a very relieved G’Kar finding a spot between the two of them.

“Truthfully.” The Dilgar spoke. “I don’t know. I had ships in the area with orders to intercept your fleet and encourage them to turn back home.”

Stro’kath kept an even expression.

“Why?”

“Because if your ships had joined Earth at that time they would have been massacred. Sadly it appears they were anyway.”

“And if my ships had refused and tried to continue on? Would you have fired upon them?”

“My commander had orders not to.” Dar’sen said simply. “While there they detected debris, wreckage from your fleet. It appears they were destroyed.”

“So your fleet observed this but was not responsible?” Stro’kath narrowed his eyes. “While I trust you, I do not trust the others of your kind. Do you believe the word of your subordinates?”

“I’ve seen the data recordings.” He fished out a data crystal from his pocket and slid it over to Stro’kath. “it’s all on there, my ships didn’t fire.”

“So who did do it?”

“We detected Minbari ships in the area and assumed them at first, but it turns out they were just as surprised.” Dar’sen stated. “To destroy that many ships so swiftly and absolutely, if it wasn’t the Minbari I don’t think any other power has the capacity.”

“Who else is there?”

“I don’t know, but they clearly don’t want Earth to receive help and are willing to kill thousands to make sure of it.” Dar’sen informed. “And this is where we find ourselves holding something in common.”


The Drazi tilted his head in interest.

“We have not widely publicised this.” Dar’sen continued. “My government has been supplying technology to Earth. We gave them the means to defeat Minbari stealth and helped them fight back.”

“Something they have been doing well.” Stro’kath approved. “I am surprised though, Earth was the decisive factor in breaking your Empire. Why would you help them instead of celebrating their deaths?”

“Because while they did destroy the old empire they also delivered the new one. Earth forced the armistice on the League, made everyone sign the ceasefire and kept the Dilgar as a living race. If not for Earth we would have been exterminated, we both know this.”

“It is true.” Stro’kath admitted. “In our mind the war could only end in the bombardment of Omelos. The crimes of your people could only be paid for in blood.”

“Earth disagreed.” Dar’sen returned. “And so here I sit, leader of a small but proud nation trying to stand up again. But you are right, we aren’t helping Earth just for the sake of it, we want closer diplomatic ties.”

“Understandable.” G’kar stepped in. “The Dilgar are still pariahs. Apart from my government nobody has any real dealings with you.”

“For a time we accepted this, but the lack of trade and development is starting to bite. We can’t grow as a nation unless we return to the galactic community, but the stigma of the war prevents this.”

“Most of your people were monsters.”

“Most of my people are dead.” Dar’sen returned. “Those who aren’t are not monsters. They were hand picked to carry on our race in a changed galaxy, they are a new breed of Dilgar, children of a new philosophy. My philosophy. You know me Stro'kath, you know what I stand for. That is the world I am trying to make.”


“I sympathise, I faced similar difficulties trying to change how my people saw themselves during the war. Make them into better soldiers to defeat you.”

“And you succeeded.” Dar’sen agreed. “Now I’m trying to do the same thing, I think Earth is the key to that, they are the only ones to offer us the chance at being something better. But now there is a possibility they could be destroyed, and worse it seems anyone who helps them may be a target. That’s why we are meeting here, in part because the Narn are neutral and have contact with both our nations, but also because the Narn by selling weapons to Earth may be under threat themselves.”

“Whoever attacked your fleet is clearly trying to influence the war in favour of the Minbari.” G’Kar concurred. “But we don’t know who or why.”

“I have people looking into it.” Dar’sen informed. “But in the meantime we need to do something. I for one am not going to change my policy on helping Earth, but we are not strong enough to risk losses like the Drazi have suffered.”

“Whoever attacked us will pay.” Stro’kath promised. “It is not just an act of war, it is an attack on our honour, a denial of our chance to repay our debt to Earth.”

“We both owe Earth a debt.” Dar’sen agreed. “Which is why we should work together to pay it.”

Even with his usual mastery of playing politics G’Kar was taken by surprise at that one.

“Work together?” Stro’kath missed a breath. “Dilgar and Drazi?”

“Why not?” The Warmaster asked simply. “Are you going to let the war dictate our future? The Dilgar Imperium that committed atrocities against you is gone, those responsible dead mainly at your own hands. Those who remain are my people. Yes we fought each other, but it was a fair fight, an honourable fight. You have said that time and again yourself Stro’kath. You hated the butchers in my race and I don’t blame you, but you respected the fleet I led and built. Now I am asking you to respect my new command.”


“You are asking the impossible.”

“Have we ever violated the armistice?” Dar’sen demanded. “Have we crossed your borders? Raided your worlds? Have we ever broken our word?”

The Drazi exhaled.

“No.”

“There have been some who have wanted to, some see the hostility that is still directed at us and ask why shouldn’t we fight? Why shouldn’t we launch pre-emptive strikes at our enemies? Why not weaken them to preserve our borders? I know at least one of my commanders wanted to destroy your expeditionary fleet herself.”

“Herself?” Stro’kath growled. “I can guess who you mean.”

“I keep those people in check. It is not easy, even with the monsters mostly gone we are still a war like race, we are still a nation bred for battle and many of us see war as our first choice to solve disputes. When your fleet vanished almost the entire council wanted to exploit it, to hit you when you were weak, establish a buffer zone. But I gave my word. I signed a treaty. So instead I am here to ask for your help.”

“I respect you Warmaster, a title you have earned.” Stro’kath nodded. “But there is too much blood. We will never be allies.”

“That isn’t what I am asking.” Dar’sen stated. “All I ask is that your government recognise the sovereignty of the Dilgar Imperium and sign a peace treaty with us. Not an armistice, a peace treaty.”

“That would mean giving up our claim to the worlds your nation owns.”

“It would.” Dar’sen nodded. “But it would also stabilise your border with us and free up warships to send to Earth.”

“And in turn my government has authorised me to agree to Drazi demands to return several disputed colonies and agree to a fixed border.” G’Kar added. “Which again should free up ships for you to send elsewhere.”


“The Dilgar I can understand.” Stro’kath considered. “If we recognise you the rest of the League will be obliged to do the same. If the stubborn Drazi have agreed to this the others will be shamed into doing it too. But what do the Narn gain from this?”

“As the Warmaster said by associating with Earth we suddenly find ourselves on the same side facing the same enemy.” G’Kar clarified. “Your fleet was lost in Narn space yet we detected nothing. That could just as easily been one of our fleets, we would have no defence.”

“There’s more than that.”

“There is also the Centauri.” G’Kar sneered at the very mention of the name. “By normalising relations with the Drazi we can redirect ships toward Centauri space. We know you and the Centauri don’t get on, we should be united in our hatred!”

“We don’t hate the Centauri. We don’t like them, we fight them about as much as we do you and we’ve been killing them since your people were still farming. But we don’t hate them.”

“Never the less if the Centauri think we are moving closer together it will upset them. That was reason enough for most of the Kha’ri to approve. The rest were moved by the practical benefit of demilitarising our border, at least to a degree, so we can focus on our true enemy.”

“Ultimately we all want to see Earth win this war, or at least survive it.” Dar’sen observed. “For practical reasons and in our case as a matter of honour. If we do chose to continue offering direct support we may come under attack, if we are wanting the same thing and facing the same threat we should do so together even if It is behind closed doors. I’m not expecting miracles, I don’t expect to see a Drazi and a Dilgar shaking hands in my lifetime, but to make ourselves vulnerable to attack because of the past is foolish.”

Stro’kath stood.

“After reading the latest news from Earth perhaps this is the season of miracles.”


The Drazi Warleader extended his hand, the bony plates and strong tendons probably quite capable of crushing whatever bones were placed in their grasp. Dar’sen did not hesitate despite the obvious risk, standing and extending his own hand in the human custom.

“If any other Dilgar had tried to speak to me I would have ignored them, or beaten them until they cried.”

“And if it had been any other Drazi I would have expected a knife in the back as soon as I turned around.”

They shook hands firmly but respectfully, two equals divided by history but united in vision.

“My people adopted the custom of a hand shake after the war. It has symbolism, power.” Dar’sen remarked. “it was the gesture that birthed our new nation.”

“I remember shaking hands upon meeting Admiral Ferguson of Earth, a warrior who should also be stood with us.” Stro’kath added. “He called us the best of enemies.”

“Perhaps not forever.”

“Maybe.” The Drazi accepted. “I will sign the treaty. We will have peace and I will mobilise a force in case we are attacked. I intend to continue helping Earth, if we can count on the security of our borders we will try again.”

“And with the treaty signed my government will offer open aid to Earth following your example. Weapons, supplies, technology. If we both give aid whoever destroyed your fleet will have to deal with two nations. Three if the Narn step up their game.”

“The Kha’ri is prepared to do so.” G’Kar smiled. “This is a historic day, who would have imagined it would ever come to pass?”

“Extraordinary times.” Dar’sen agreed whole heartedly. “This may drag us into a war.”

“If war comes it is for the right cause.” Stro’kath smiled. “Standing with our old friends from Earth. In the end Warmaster I still wish to duel you, to know finally who is better, but before that day if the chance comes to fight side by side with you I will be a very happy Drazi.”




The summit meeting broke up amicably, Stro’kath leaving with an unusually pleasant disposition. Dar’sen also withdrew, heading home on his flagship which had been hidden behind the colony at the time of the Drazi arrival to avoid provocation. The station gradually went back to normal, very few of them recognising exactly what had transpired within its walls.

“That went better than expected.” G’Kar fell back into his seat within the now silent conference room. “We have so many jokes that begin ‘A Drazi and a Dilgar walk into a room’ that all end the same way. Broken bones and blood stains.”

“The Drazi are not unreasonable.” A voice emerged from a side door. “They are argumentative, irascible, prone to acting without thinking, but present them with a clear opportunity and they will jump like any other species. Especially if they have a leader who can see beyond the obvious flaws of his nature.”


Jha’dur sat down in the seat vacated by her fellow Warmaster, resting her hands on the desk.

“Peace between Dilgar and Drazi though?” G’Kar shook his head. “I thought I’d take afternoon tea with the Centauri Emperor before I saw that.”

“It isn’t a treaty between nations, it’s an agreement between two men who respect each other.” Jha’dur answered. “This could only be done by Dar’sen and Stro’kath and only because they trust each other. Ironic that the greatest of adversaries should get on so well, I doubt I would have had such a pleasant conversation with Admiral Hamato.”

“You’re not worried some lower Admiral or Captain will ignore this?”

“Not at all. On the Drazi side Stro’kath has given his word and no one in his nation would dare break it. It’s a sign of the reverence they hold him in, as I said no other Drazi could have done this. Even if they had wanted to only Stro’kath has the sort of power and respect for the Drazi to set aside their nature and obey him without question.”

“And your people obey Dar’sen in the same manner?”

“Not the same blind obedience, but he is respected enough for people not to question him. Besides, anyone who does jeopardise this arrangement will draw my ire.”

“An unhealthy circumstance as I understand.” G’Kar chuckled.


“To function as a nation we need international relations. We need to have normal diplomacy, acceptance.” Jha’dur stated. “It will take generations, nobody disputes that, but the hardest part was always going to be making that first step and opening the door for the first time. The war between Earth and Minbar gave us a common ground we could use. Dar’sen was wise to use it.”

“I had thought all this would be your idea?”

Jha’dur smiled.

“My idea was a bit easier, destroy a few thousand Drazi ships, blame the Minbari, offer to help them get even. Turns out somebody did that for us and Dar’sen suggested simply exploiting the truth.”

“So who did actually destroy that fleet?”

“I have no idea, but a few leads. There are some powers out there who seem to have helped the Minbari before and may be doing so again. It needs more investigation.”

“I never thought the Minbari needed much help.”

“Neither did I, but according to ISN they’ve taken quite a beating.” Jha’dur smiled. “Which is a little bit delicious. Is there anything more satisfying than seeing someone get what they deserve?”

“Careful, half the galaxy would say the same for you.”

“They’d be right too, I don’t deny it.” She shrugged. “But I’m a long way from finished yet.”


“So the Drazi sign a peace treaty with you, then what?”

“It legitimises the existence of the new Imperium, recognises our borders, our right of ownership over these worlds.” Jha’dur said. “And if the Drazi do it, the most vehement of our enemies, the rest of the League will too. The Abbai have sought this for a while but could never push it through against Drazi opposition. That is no longer an issue.”

“So you become a legally recognised nation, set up embassies, formal relations, perhaps trade?”

“I doubt the League will have much to do with us, but after recognition they can no longer try to prevent us trading with you or the Centauri. This is going to make us a lot richer and more independent, and of course you benefit too.”

“That was the deal.” G’Kar nodded firmly. “We play nice with the Drazi, help you gain your recognition, and in return we receive the same sensor technology Earth has.”

“A small price to pay.” Jha’dur accepted. “If the Minbari come for you now you can fight back. Of course it isn’t the Minbari I’d be worried about.”

“Our phantom fleet thrashers.”

“Well put.” Jha’dur smiled briefly. “But until we know more we can’t let fear dictate our actions. I’d say that was what our mysterious opponent wanted. I don’t react well to people trying to intimidate me. I’ve been told I have a problem with anger management sometimes.”

“I can’t imagine who would actually have had the courage to say that to you.”

She smiled again.

“We’ll speak again G’Kar after the various announcements. While this war the humans are fighting was unexpected it does help accelerate our plans.”

“Do you think they can win?”

“I’m not sure, but what I am sure about is that whether Earth survives or not they will take the Minbari with them. The Minbari need to make peace or at the end of the war they’ll find their homeworld an irradiated waste ground. One way or another.”

“You think Earth would do that?”

“Of course they would.” Jha’dur chuckled. “That’s why I like them so much.”

“I’m not sure if they’d appreciate that compliment.”

“It doesn’t matter. We need to position ourselves to benefit from however this war ends. Either with a strengthened Earth or a crippled Minbar. I’d prefer the former, but if it is the latter we can still profit G’Kar. We just have to be a little bit clever about it.”





Cyrus System


Two weeks after liberation



“We’ll rotate Tennant’s people out on the next supply run.” Admiral Ferguson rubbed his eyes as if to physically remove his weariness. “They’ve been deployed for over a month now, they need some real grav time. Have him take his fleet back to Durani for a week of shore leave.”

“He’ll insist on staying.” Commander Austin mentioned glumly. “You know what Joe’s like, he won’t want to miss the fun.”

“He’s no good if his crews are weakened by prolonged exposure to zero gravity and lack of rest. Make sure he knows it’s an order. Eighth Dreadnought group can replace him for a week.”


Ferguson no doubt expected the same thing was being said about him. The Charlemagne had been deployed since the war began over three months ago now and his own crews were approaching the limits of their expected endurance. They could fight for longer of course if they had to, they could stay out here permanently if that is what Earth Force required, but with things apparently quiet it was a good time to swap out some of the more tired crews for fresh ones.

Back home there was already a big push for negotiations to restart in the hope that the Minbari had now realised this wasn’t some cheap easy massacre but a true war. Earth had demonstrated clearly that they were not easy victims anymore and any attempt by the Minbari to reach Earth was going to be mired in blood and bodies. This time their own.

President Levy had set probes to transmit the offer of talks into Minbari space so the message was clearly heard. David Sheridan had also made it known throughout the League, Narn space and the Centauri Republic that Earth was open to a peaceful settlement and no further lives needed to be lost. So far no other nation had reported contact with the Minbari, even the brief line of communication provided by Representative G’Kar had dried up after the ambush on Epsilon Outpost.

The Minbari had gone very quiet, and while the more optimistic members of the Government believed they had knocked the fight out of the alien species Ferguson was far more wary about events.


“Anything on the latest scout reports?” The Admiral continued, his body aching after several hours of filing reports and shuffling timetables. He promised himself half an hour in the centrifuge afterwards to restore some feeling to his legs.

“Probes had nothing, and the Minbari still have a strong presence in hyperspace. If we try push a manned recon through it’ll get bloody.”

“Plus the President doesn’t want us to provoke the Minbari if they really are wavering.”

“Think they are wavering sir?” Austin asked.

“I doubt it, they’re licking their wounds, gathering their strength. We haven’t seen the last of them which is why we need to keep ourselves fresh.”

“I understand Admiral Hamato has been reactivated.” The Commander mentioned. “He’s taking over second line command which frees up General Denisov to relieve us.”

“Akira always put his duty first, even ahead of his own career.” Ferguson grunted. “Stubborn old bastard, but he knows his stuff. We’re lucky to have him.”

“Yes sir.”

“Are we still in orbital synch with the moon?”

“Yes sir, we’re orbiting Cyrus at the same rate as it’s moon. Should keep us sandwiched between the two bodies and secure two of our flanks.”

“Shield us from long range fire too. If I was a Minbari I’d be launching raids and trying to snipe us at range. If we can think of it so can they.”

“With respect sir, I don’t think they really see things like we do. Their tactics seem, well, a bit simple really.”

“They are, but we can’t rely on them always being simple. Plan for hard fight and be happy if it turns into a cake walk.”


There was a chime on his monitor fixed into the wall a few feet away. Despite being an Admiral’s cabin the quarters were still tiny, the price one paid for serving on a Dreadnought.

“Admiral, Conn.” The voice announced. “We just had some unscheduled jumps on the edge of the system. About a dozen.”

“Any transmissions?”

“Negative sir, we’re deploying scouts.”

“Set actions stations.” Ferguson ordered, grabbing the back of his bolted down chair and swinging for the door. “I’m on my way up.”

He was in the Control Room in less than a minute making the journey with practised speed despite his age. He pushed himself into the commanders chair and tightened the belts as he looked over the computer screens attached to the arm rests.

“No further contacts.” The sensor officer reported. “Whoever jumped in took cover behind one of the outer planets.”

“Civilians?” Austin asked.

“Unlikely.” Ferguson shook his head. “Who’s out there?”

“29th Frigate group.”

“Tell them to keep their distance.” The Admiral warned. “They are to double back at once if they encounter resistance.”

“Yes sir.” The Commander relayed on the order. “All fleet ships report ready, Furies are on the racks and ready to launch.”

“Get the alert fighters up, hold the rest until we know it’s not a false alarm.”


On his word Starfuries began to launch, leaving their parent ships in steady rows before breaking into loose combat formations, the classic four ship element dating back centuries. The various combat groups also began to disperse, standard procedure when facing Minbari. Earth scientists were working on a way to inhibit jump points so the Minbari could not use them as a weapon to gouge through Earth Force formations but until that time fleets simply had to spread out and keep their fingers crossed. At least now with the new sensors Earth Force could return the favour.

“Scout group reporting.” One of the officers called. “Minbari fighters sighted.”

“Fighters don’t jump in alone.” Ferguson grimaced. “Pull those ships back a safe distance, tell them to standby for further orders.”

“Aye sir.”

Ferguson looked over the map of the system, Cyrus wasn’t a huge place but the Minbari ships were still well outside even their impressive firing range. They were however close enough to scan his fleet and relay jump co-ordinates to their allies.

“Launch all remaining fighters.” He ordered. “All ships will move ahead flank speed, clear this area.”

“Admiral, tachyon distortion!” The sensor officer called. “Jump points, multiple, fifty plus!”

“Where?”

“Five light seconds sir.”

“Really?” He paused. “That’s well out of range…”

space illuminated for a few moments as dozens of jump points opened far beyond the EA positions, each vortex allowing a group of tall Minbari warships to enter. The fleet was a little more balanced than previous forces, there was less emphasis on the heavyweight Sharlin cruiser and a more even distribution of types and roles. They took the time to form up in a standard combat formation and promptly halted.


“Minbari fleet confirmed, about eleven hundred ships.”

“Twice what we faced at Jericho.” Ferguson mused. “What are they doing?”

“Nothing sir, holding position.”

“The Minbari don’t have any weapons that can hit us this far out do they?” Austin checked.

“Not even close.” The Admiral replied. “Cut velocity to one quarter standard, turn us about to face them.”

The fleet wheeled in formation, the block of grey metal facing off against the waves of blue crystal separated by a vast expanse of blackness.

“So what’s their game?” Ferguson considered the data. “No element of surprise, with that many ships I doubt he left any in reserve to jump us. Why commit forces but leave them so far from effective combat range?”

“Maybe he’s trying to provoke us to come after him?”

“Maybe, he’s in open space, we can’t use terrain to mask our approach. He can exploit his range advantage no matter what direction we move in from. He’s probably got scouts in hyperspace to warn him if we try a jump point attack, give him time to disperse.” Ferguson nodded. “But he's got to be pretty damn optimistic if he thinks we’re just going to sail neatly toward him like a damn shooting gallery.”

“Our new sensors have a pretty effective jamming mode.” Austin noted. “It should disrupt his long range fire quite a bit.”

“It would, plus we have our older countermeasures, chaff, decoys. But even so it’s a long way to go. We could make it into range and probably have enough ships to win, but that’s a lot of Minbari. It’ll cost us a thousand ships to get in close.”

“Fighter strike?”

“They’ll be waiting for it, see how he hasn’t launched his own fighters yet?” Ferguson noted. “Same story, it’s like advancing over open ground into a nest of machine guns. We got past that in World War One.”

The older Admiral shook his head.

“No, we’ll make him come to us. Force him to abandon his position.”

“How sir?”

Ferguson smiled broadly.

“Murphy.”



Beta Durani


John Sheridan snapped a clean salute as his wait finally ended, he and a small group of other officers standing opposite the entrance to the docking bay on Beta Prime. They had been waiting four days for their new assignment, told only to expect their new commanding officer within the week. They hadn’t been told who that officer would be and found themselves rather pleasantly surprised.

Admiral Hamato answered the salute formally. “At ease.”

“Commander John Sheridan reporting as ordered sir.”

“Very good Commander, this is your command staff from the Lexington?”

“They are sir, finest officers in the fleet.”

“Their actions against the Black Star and her would be rescuers speak for themselves.” Hamato agreed. “The Lexington is still in dry dock, I know that you were all eager to return to her after her refit but fate has opened a new door for you. I am assigning you to my command, you will be the bridge staff on my new flagship. It may not be exactly what you were expecting but I trust you will all take to this assignment with the enthusiasm and skill you displayed aboard the Lexington.”

“We will sir.” Sheridan affirmed, Lieutenant Commander Carroll looking slightly less sure.

“I have confidence you will. Commander Sheridan, walk with me. Everyone else retrieve your gear and be prepared to leave at sixteen hundred hours. Dismiss.”

They did as instructed, fading into the network of corridors and the mass of blue and grey uniforms thronging the station.

“I have been assigned command of our reactivated fleet, an appropriate post for one of my talents I am told.” Hamato started walking, Sheridan following. “or perhaps for one so cursed.” He chuckled gently.

“There were rumours you were back in uniform sir.” Sheridan spoke respectfully, carefully not to tread on some invisible line. He only knew Hamato by reputation, an innovative and utterly determined leader who had been the only being to beat Deathwalker. He was stoic, said little, but by all accounts was an exceptional officer to serve with. Sheridan was naturally keen to make a good impression.

“Almost everyone who served in uniform over the last twenty years is being recalled.” Hamato stated. “Those fit enough anyway. It is going to be my task to reacquaint them with military life before throwing them into the furnace.”


They stepped into a lift, Hamato selecting the command deck level.

“A lot of these crews will be rusty but at least they have served before, that makes them more effective than conscripts.”

“So we just have to jog their memories a little?” Sheridan wondered.

“Exactly.” Hamato confirmed. “Some have seen combat but there are quite a few who had left the force before the Dilgar War. We will have to try and balance our crews so they have a good mix of experience and skills.”

“How old are some of these people sir?”

“Varies, some will have only served one tour and resigned just before this war, others will not have set foot on a ship in twenty years. We will also have a number of Belt Alliance personnel and civilians with experience in merchant ships.”

“That’s quite a mixed bag sir.”

“It is, and forging them into a unit will not be easy. However they are all volunteers, they want to be here. With time we can make them as effective as the first line fleets and three times as good as the conscripts that will come after us.”

“Has the President authorised a Planetary Draft?”

“She’s waiting for a response regarding peace talks.” The lift stopped. “If she doesn’t get it she’ll sign the draft into law and give the Joint Chiefs free reign. At that point it will be all out total war, same as we fought against the Dilgar. No half measures, just an all out fight until one of us breaks.”


They exited the lift and made their way towards the command deck for Beta prime located just under the docking bay as was standard on EA stations.

“I’m assigning Captains but I will need your help.” Hamato continued. “Not many have command experience, I have a team sorting them into a shortlist before I conduct interviews. The Frigates and Corvettes I’ll assign based on their records, but I want to sit down and talk to an individual before I give them a Cruiser or Dreadnought.”

“Makes sense sir, it’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Admiral Denisov managed to pulls some strings and gave me a solid core to build on. Our main battlegroup are all veterans of the Dilgar War most of whom served under my direct command. We can be sure that they at least know their business.”

“How is the rest of the fleet set up sir?”

“I have a hundred dreadnoughts and three hundred cruisers, they are older models but still effective. After those I can put a thousand Frigates, four hundred missile ships and another thousand corvettes into action. We have the crews and they are being given training but we need to make sure they have competent officers to lead them.”

“Understood sir.

“And then we need to make sure those officers are updated on modern fleet doctrine. The Captain of the Enterprise for instance last saw action in the Narn skirmishes twenty five years ago.”

“The Enterprise sir?”

“She’s brand new.” Hamato smiled a little. “You’ll see all of our command squadron is brand new.”


They finally arrived at the control room with its slowly spinning vista on the universe.

“Take a look.” Hamato gestured. “You can’t miss the Enterprise.”

Sheridan did as instructed, peering out to see the biggest block of metal he’d seen that wasn’t a station.

“She’s a Poseidon?”

“Poseidon class Supercarrier.” Hamato affirmed. “They rushed her out without even painting her. We also have the Soryu due in tomorrow and the Illustrious next month, all fully stocked with nearly a hundred Furies each.”

“Very impressive sir.”

“You should be able to see another vessel to the side, bit smaller.”

“I see her sir.” Sheridan observed the classic Earth Force flying brick, this one with a rotating section. “The one with the gravity section?”

“That is going to be your new command, the Agamemnon.” Hamato informed. “Denisov assigned all six of the first batch of Omega class Destroyers to this fleet. They’re fitted with the new heavy lasers equal in raw power to Minbari weapons. I trust you’ll get the best from her.”

“Absolutely sir.” Sheridan grinned. “Looking forward to taking her out for a run.”

“Before you do you’ll want these.” Hamato took something from his pocket. “A ship as powerful as an Omega can’t be run by a Commander.”

Sheridan took the items, opening his hand to see the gold triangles and bars of a full Captain.

“Congratulations Captain.” Hamato allowed a rare full smile for the occasion. “Better go gather your belongings. Report with your crew to the Agamemnon for a shake down, take her to her limits and test her capabilities.”

“Yes sir, thank you sir.”

“Only what you deserve Captain, bean counters back home should not deny a man his rank because they don’t like the salary jump. We’ve got busy days ahead, dismissed Captain Sheridan.”




Somewhere in Minbari space.


“They are not Warriors.” Neroon said simply, his eyes running up and down the line of men and women standing roughly to attention in the hall.

“They do not have to be.” Branmer answered. “Not everyone who fights is a Warrior.”

“No. But it helps.”

Branmer’s new orders were not exactly a disgrace but it was clear he had simply being shuffled aside in such a way that the Religious Caste did not feel insulted. It was politically convenient to bury him here far from the front lines tasked with turning the rear echelon units of the Minbari fleet into something resembling a combat force.

In truth it was not as bad as he expected, he did at least have some decent raw materials to work with. He’d been pleasantly surprised to find a respectable force of fifty Sharlins waiting for him, half from the Worker Caste and the others from the Religious Caste. They were older than those of the Warrior caste, their hulls bearing a slight green tinge over their blue base colour while Warrior ships tended towards purple. Never the less they were superbly maintained and fully operational, it was a good start.

He walked into the hall with Neroon keeping pace beside, the young warrior holding to his oath of loyalty despite Branmer’s fall from grace.

“Alyts of the Worker and Religious Caste.” Branmer spoke loudly enough for his voice to carry between the fifty mixed commanders. “I have been given the task of reorganising this fleet from a patrol and defensive force into a combat group. This means that instead of remaining within our borders operating in small groups we must learn how to fight as a single large unit anywhere in the galaxy.”

He regarded them carefully as he spoke, watching them for reactions, subtle displays of their inner thoughts.

“This will not be as easy as it sounds, you have been trained to operate alone, never far from help knowing that if you found something too dangerous the Warrior Caste could be called in to take command. We will not have that security anymore.”


Neroon also watched their faces, pleasantly surprised by their lack of nerves.

“It will become our task to seek out danger, to actively place ourselves into battle.” Branmer continued. “And we will not be defending our possessions but working to destroy the enemy. While many will tell you destroying threats is a form of defence do not be fooled, for while they are correct in the grand sense what we will be asked to do is very different from what you have known. It is difficult to reconcile the shift towards aggression, for that is the path of the Warrior, but I will show you that there are many different types of aggression. We will learn to attack, but we will also learn control. We will focus our aggression, master it, command it, and then use it to our advantage.”

He nodded with a smile.

“Discipline. That is something you all know already, something that is key to the labours of a worker or the meditations of a priest. Something which many of our Warriors lack. Discipline allows you to pick the right moment to unleash your aggression, lets you know when and where to attack or defend, when to give chase and when to hang back.”

He could sense they were with him, that they followed his meaning.

“Battle is passion and fury, war is cold and controlled. The Warriors are trained to win battles and they do it well, but it is my goal to show you how to win wars, and for you to teach those who follow you.”

He stepped back.

“Instruction will begin tomorrow. Today I want you to view the records of my last battle at Jericho. I want you to identify the key moments in the battle, analyse the decisions as you would an engineering challenge or a historic document. You are designers and scholars, learn from the battle and formulate a plan of your own to use if you were there. That is all for now, report back here tomorrow.”


Branmer turned aside and left, Neroon ever following his lead.

“First impressions?”

“They were quiet.” Neroon answered honestly. “A Warrior company would have cheered you.”

“They were too busy thinking about what I said, weighing the consequences, the requirements, how it will shape their lives. Exactly what I want.” Branmer smiled. “They are planning ahead, analysing the future, trying to decide how their actions will shape things and if it is appropriate.”

“While I agree that rushing in without thinking is usually a bad idea, thinking too much can be just as disastrous.”

“Which is why you will need to instruct them too, to show them some of the better qualities of a warrior. Teach them to be decisive but not reckless. Thought without doubt.”

“It could take a lifetime.”

“We will have to improvise.” Branmer chuckled. “At best we have several years, when the Shadows move we’ll need every ship and crew. At worst, if Shakiri does something unwise, those people could well be leading the defence of Minbar itself.”

“A truly disturbing thought.” Neroon grunted a laugh. “Still Shakiri seems to be taking a more cautious approach to battle.”

“Cautious? He’s sat on his arse!”

“That is one way of seeing it.” Neroon smiled.

“He’s giving the initiative to Earth, letting them dictate the tempo of the war. I can see his theory, he wants to tempt them into making a mistake. I just hope that in so doing he hasn’t made one himself.”

“Whatever happens the Warrior Caste will fight valiantly, human casualties will be immense.”

“I have no doubt of that, but they can replace entire fleets if they have to. We’re already recruiting priests and builders to back up our main fleet. It is not a good sign Neroon, pray Valen these precautions will never be needed.”

 

[Deleted member]

This is truly an amazingly well-crafted rewrite. I'm very happy to see it! Bravo!

 

[Spartan303]

This is truly an amazingly well-crafted rewrite. I'm very happy to see it! Bravo!

LC is one of the best authors I've read on any of the boards bar none. Truly one of the masters of Fanfiction.

 

[trekchu]

“Take a look.” Hamato gestured. “You can’t miss the Enterprise.”

Sheridan did as instructed, peering out to see the biggest block of metal he’d seen that wasn’t a station.

“She’s a Poseidon?”

“Poseidon class Supercarrier.” Hamato affirmed. “They rushed her out without even painting her. We also have the Soryu due in tomorrow and the Illustrious next month, all fully stocked with nearly a hundred Furies each.”

My inner history geek is cacling at this.

 

[Porkchopper]

Glad to see more of this so soon. I always had a soft spot for the Drazi the only ones in cannon who tried to help Earth.

 

[Harlock]

11


Cyrus Star System


It had taken nearly a week but finally Fergusons reinforcements arrived to join the fleet, six jump points opening a safe distance away heralding a small task force of capital ships and their escorts. Great care had been taken to disguise these vessels and mask their true purpose and capability. A casual observation by the enemy would reveal them to be nothing more than standard Nova class Dreadnoughts, a formidable but not unusual vessel. The truth was something different.

“Admiral, General Knox is requesting deployment orders.” Commander Austin relayed across, pressing the small communication headset to his ear. “He has six units ready to engage immediately.”

“Have him deploy in line abreast behind the Dreadnought force.” Ferguson replied as he put aside his reports and notes and brought himself up to speed for the coming action. “Keep the dreadnoughts in staggered formation, Knox can fire through the gaps in the fleet.”

“Aye sir, fleet is deploying.”

“Bring all units up to first degree readiness, launch all fighters and prepare to receive the enemy.”

With Minbari ships standing off in the system outside weapons range the EA ships were already wary and it did not take long to close air tight doors and bring weapons from hot standby to fully operational. Ferguson's status board lit up as each vessel checked in, the blocky formation turning from blue to green signalling every unit was prepared.

“All fleet units will standby on my orders.” The Admiral resolved. “General Knox may commence operations at his leisure.”


The six new dreadnoughts deployed into their assigned position under the curious watch of both their human allies and the distant Minbari. For a few weeks now both sides had been locked in a staring match across the Cyrus system with neither the Earth or Minbari fleets in a position to commence an attack. Their strength was roughly equal and while Earth could claim to have a more flexible fleet the Minbari still held the proverbial high ground having vessels with superior range and accuracy. It was a stand off with neither fleet willing to cross open space under the guns of the other.

This was where General Knox came in with Earth's solution to breaking the stalemate. While the ships he brought were Nova class hulls they had been heavily modified with their cannons, hangar decks and internal stores removed and replaced with a single spinal rail gun of immense proportions.


The cannons were planetary defence weapons shoehorned into a dreadnought hull with considerable difficulty and expense. They were slow, vulnerable to any hostile unit if caught alone and very few in number designed primarily for bombarding enemy starbases and ground based fortifications. However they also fired a solid lump of metal the size of a freight train at massive velocities with greater range and power than anything beside the largest nuclear missiles and unlike those missiles the solid projectile was virtually impossible to deflect or destroy.

They had never been used in action before and were not built to fight warships, fortunately the new sensors and targeting systems that allowed Earth to beat Minbari stealth also gave these immense weapons the capacity to engage moving targets such as, for example, Minbari war cruisers. The designers had named these titanic weapons 'Murphy Guns' after the proverbial guru of bad luck. They had taken Murphy's primary law of 'No plan survives contact with the enemy' and altered it to 'No plan survives contact with this giant frickin' gun' and used that as their mission statement. Now finally it would be put to the test.


The six siege ships now dropped their cover, switching power to their spinal cannon and bringing the targeting systems online. They had assumed position behind a screen of regular dreadnoughts, the commanders of the fleet watching with malicious glee as the power readings spiked. The leading vessel in the formation would take the first shot, the EAS Gustav, to gauge the effectiveness of the experimental weapon and feed data to its sisters.

The first of the massive bullets was winched up and settled into the breech mechanism, the zero gravity within the vessel helping considerably. The electromagnetic rails arced as they were fed massive quantities of power, the entire ship humming as the decks shuddered and vibrated. At the bow within the fake hangar opening the muzzle of the gun made final adjustments, locked it's targets and made ready for the final order. The engine room set the engines for a sudden automatic burn to try and counter the recoil at the moment of firing, all hoping that the weapon did not explode, melt or simply break free of its cradle and rip out the heart of the ship.


The tension was palpable, the entire Earth fleet waiting poised for what promised to be a spectacular event one way or another. The targeting system beeped ready, the capacitors kicked in a final boost of power, and as soon as the gun matched itself to the sensor readings it fired.

Even at emergency burn the recoil pushed the ship back snapping the crew forward in their seats, the restraints digging uncomfortably into their shoulders and waists. The compression systems did their job, the gun remained attached to the firing vessel and returned forward ready for another shot. The burst of energy was impossible to hide, lighting up every sensor system in the region as the silver streak of the round crossed open space toward its target.


“What happened?” Shakiri glared at the flash from the distant EA ships mapped to the holographic curtain of the command deck. “What was that reading?”

“It was a muzzle blast, unknown weapon, projectile is incoming!” His second warned. “Very high speed!”

“Track it's course, then...”

He was interrupted by a spark on the hologram beside him, a Sharlin suddenly jerking backwards scattering debris behind it in vast quantities. It stood motionless for a heartbeat and then exploded as its reactor consumed it.

“That was the Firenn, direct hit.” His Captain warned. “Reading more sensors locks, Earth force ships are firing again, five more incoming!”

The rest of the siege ships now engaged mirroring the success of the lead vessel. Four found their targets and struck them directly, the fifth was a glancing hit but even so the sheer force of the kinetic impact scraped off a third of the mass of the unfortunate Minbari ship and carried it away.

“The Burning Spear is on fire and out of control, more incoming!”

“Can we return fire?” Shakiri demanded to know.

“Not at this range Shai Alyt.”

“Then it appears we have but one choice.”



It took considerable effort for Ferguson not to grin like a maniac, the elder Admiral required to maintain a professional air in front of subordinates at all times. The rest of his bridge crew fortunately had no such appearance to maintain and burst out in cheers with every Minbari ship shattered.

“Four more hits!” Austin slammed his hands together, ecstatic to be giving the Minbari a taste of some pay back. “Knox is opening up a hole in the centre of the enemy formation, he hopes one of the ships in the middle is the enemy flagship.”

“If we can snipe the commander it will help.” Ferguson nodded. “They are starting to take evasive action, it won't do much good, Knox may need to switch to cluster rounds.”

“He's already alternating shell types.” Austin confirmed. “He reports twenty rounds per gun remaining, after that the gun barrels will be wrecked and need replacing.”

“The Minbari won't know that, right now their Commander is working out how long he can endure having his capital ships sniped before his fleet is useless.”

Another set of Minbari ships vanished in flame and fractured crystal.

“He has three options, the first is to retreat which is the most sensible.” Ferguson considered. “Withdraw and return later with a better balanced force, but he won't do that, no Minbari warrior would flee from battle. He could disperse, go full evasive, break up his fleet but that would allow us to move in, concentrate our conventional ships and destroy him piecemeal. Which leaves one option for him. Attack.”

“That seems to be confirmed sir, I have movement across the Minbari lines.” Austin nodded. “They are assuming attack positions, a frontal assault.”

“And that is textbook desperation.” Ferguson exhaled, shaking his head at his opponent. “Have General Knox maintain fire and then withdraw to a reserve position. Dreadnought group will hold fast and standby for broadside fire, we'll let them break against this metal wall. All other units move to the flanks and engage the Minbari as they advance. They will come straight for the Murphy guns, straight down the centre relying on speed to save them. It won't.”


The Minbari were on the move, exactly as Ferguson had predicted. Unable to weather the attacks and with no idea how limited the EA ammunition was they chose to attack and remove the source of their torment. Shakiri brought his fleet up to attack speed, ready to utilise the formidable engine power of his forces to close the gap quickly and minimise his exposure to human weapons. Unfortunately this was exactly what Ferguson wanted.

As the Minbari made their move he too redeployed, the wall of dreadnoughts turning broadside on to face the Minbari advance, cannons swinging out and flank missile silos popping open one after the other exposing nuclear tipped hypervelocity missiles to the enemy. It was a solid line of dark grey and blue, the classic iron wall of Earth force that had blunted virtually everything that had ever been thrown against it from Narn missile cruisers to Dilgar Dreadnoughts and everything in between. Only the Minbari had ever taken such a formation head on and won, but that was before Earth could fight back and even then the pure volume of fire had blasted several warcruisers. It was time to see what happened when the irresistable force of a Sharlin grand assault ran into the immovable object of a human dreadnought wall.


But while Shakiri was gambling on one tactic Ferguson was not so unwise. He deployed his escorts above and to the left of his his main defence, the two flanking forces advancing along the path of the Minbari advance. Their orders were to simply rain down fire from the left and from above intersecting at ninety degrees and catching the Minbari fleet in a three dimensional crossfire. His cruisers and frigates could not match a Nova for firepower of course but they could still hurt a Minbari capital ship and were a threat to the smaller escorts Shakiri had brought with him, and they were present in significant numbers.

All the while the Murphy guns maintained a steady fire picking off important looking ships at range. Ferguson assigned his Starfury units to protect them, his main concern being the Minbari fighters swarming ahead and tearing up the defenceless siege ships. It was a bit of a risk not to send the Furies forward to whittle away exposed guns and propulsion systems among the Minbari ships but given the amount of firepower waiting to be unleashed it was probably wise to keep his airwings as far away from the cauldron as possible.


“Minbari are coming into range.” Austin warned. “General Knox is withdrawing.”

The Minbari began to engage, their first salvoes slicing through a trio of Novas. The jamming suites prevented the Minbari from exploiting their accuracy at this range but simply weight of fire was going to cost human lives.

“All dreadnoughts hold fast.” Ferguson ordered. “We'll get our chance very soon.”

Knox was still firing as he withdrew earning back some vengeance, a salvo of cluster shells wiping out a Minbari frigate wing as they were pelted with submunitions hitting at insane velocities.

“Flanking forces report Minbari are in range.”

“All cruiser and escort units, commence firing, guns only.” Ferguson ordered. “Time to main contact?”

“Forty seconds until they come within our range.” Austin replied sharply and professionally, filtering and relaying information as soon as it crossed his console. “Cruiser forces are engaging.”


The Hyperion wings began their part of the plan hailing pulse cannon rounds down on the passing Minbari ships. Shakiri had ignored them, writing them off as a minor threat and now he was starting to regret it. The EA ships burned holes in the Sharlin cruisers, massed fire from six vessels turning one into a flaming wreck as it passed under their guns. Rail guns on the escorting Artemis frigates added to the violence as explosions and tracer fire peppered the advancing force.

The Minbari simply soaked up the damage and pushed on. Shakiri did not alter his plan, he kept his focus on the siege ships even though they were by now no longer the main threat. His flanking ships were being melted away, his frigate and light cruiser units unable to respond due to lack of orders. Many Minbari commanders knew it was a mistake, they desperately wanted to break formation and engage the human cruiser units, it was indeed their entire reason for existence. But instead of being released to hunt in their wolfpacks and tie up the human light units they were instead kept in tight with the Sharlin formation and suffered for it.

In his mind Shakiri believed he was right, that it was better to mass his fleet into one great hammer to smash the human battle line and destroy the siege ships, that he would crush both forces at once in a single glorious attack. None could stand before such a force, who was there who could check the unleashed might of the Warrior caste in its full fury?


“All in the valley of death rode the six hundred.” Ferguson whispered to himself.

“Sir?”

“Nothing Commander, just reminding myself that blindly following orders into suicidal attacks isn't exclusively a Minbari trait. We have guns on both flanks, guns ahead of them, they are in the mother of all kill boxes and they are still advancing. Is that bravery Commander? Or desperation?”

“They're boneheads sir, that tells me all I need to know.”

“Doesn't really matter. Dreadnought group standby for salvo fire.”

The iron wall now made ready, the ranks of heavy guns making their final adjustments. With such a huge target and with so many ships preparing to fire there was no question that tens of thousands of Minbari were about to die. The only question was whether they would collapse before the momentum of the attack carried them through the dreadnought wall.


“Make sure all weapons are set for pulse mode.” Ferguson checked, a final dreadnought falling to Minbari fire as the range counter turned green. “Commence firing.”

There was no one in the Earth fleet that did not appreciate the spectacle of nearly two hundred dreadnoughts engaging at once. It was the ultimate example of what Earth Force brought to the battlefield, pure, unsophisticated, overwhelming firepower. The fleet simply filled space with highly energised particles, a mix of the older blue coloured rounds and newer orange pulses showing which ships had been upgraded. The leading elements of the Minbari fleet flew into them and stopped dead, entire squadrons and flotillas knocked out of the sky and transformed into smoking ruins. More ships advanced, more fell, but it did not stop the Minbari advance in its tracks. The follow up vessels pushed forward, navigating around the wrecks, enduring the barrage for a few moments before succumbing. Each successive force pushing further forward and still retaliating, still claiming Earth warships with calmly executed return fire despite the maelstrom engulfing them.


This was the critical moment. Ferguson was fully committed, as was Shakiri, the Minbari advance was slowing down but still forcing its way forward and still claiming human ships. One side or the other had to break, either the Minbari ships crumbled or Ferguson's ships burnt out their guns and slackened their defence which would let the Minbari get close enough to break through.

“Weapons capacity at ninety percent and falling.” Austin warned. The rapid salvoes fired by the dreadnoughts were horrificaly destructive but also exceeded the limits on the cooling systems placing a direct limit on their use. All the Minbari had to do was endure for a few more seconds and they could still win despite their losses.

Ferguson of course had no intention of allowing that.

“All units, nuclear launch authorised, saturation strike.” He gave the order with as much venom in his voice as he could manage. “Launch them all.”

His fleet had few pure missile ships in it, not many had survived the initial one sided battles, but the majority of EA ships maintained a healthy missile armament of their own and could bring a lot of warheads to the field. Both the dreadnoughts at the front of the battle and the flanking cruisers and frigates let go with everything they had, a classic mass attack with everything timed to impact simultaneously. With the Minbari so focused on the attack, with their sensors clouded by the volume of gunfire, with their escorting ships badly mauled and out of proper position, with the entire force concentrated together in a packed formation Ferguson's ships found themselves with the optimum target.

This was not an innovative battle, there was no great new strategy or radical manouevre, it was an almost text book battle with a main line of Dreadnoughts, cruisers and frigates on the flanks, Furies on CAP duty and a well timed nuclear strike to tip a wavering enemy into collapse. It was the classic Earth Force strategy, human kinds signature space battle, and it worked. It was tried, tested and when employed by a competent Admiral and well trained crews the results were utterly devastating.


The Minbari broke. Their forces evaporated and boiled away, hammered by gunfire or slammed by the shattered debris from their brethren. The heart of the formation was transformed into a furnace of radiation and plasma, their defensive strategies too weakened or too slow to stop the missile strike. Eighty percent of the Minbari fleet was lost in the space of thirty seconds and in the face of certain death Shakiri also broke.

“Jump points.” Austin noted. “Surviving ships are withdrawing.”

“Keep firing.” Ferguson ordered. “Don't make it easy for them.”

Several more Minbari ships succumbed to gunfire as they made their escape, a couple of hundred vessels making it to hyperspace where they would be long gone by the time Earth Force could follow. Ferguson let them go, he didn't have the supplies to chase them over the border anyway.

“Enemy forces have withdrawn, the Cyrus system is ours.” Austin grinned.


“Get a signal off to Command, inform them Minbari fleet routed with heavy casualties, we have secured the border and all Earth Alliance territory has now been liberated. We request resupply and are prepared to advance into Minbari territory as soon as practical.”

“Aye sir.” Austin went to work. “Are we really ready to attack sir? Invade Minbari space?”

“If the politicians have the will power we have the firepower.” Ferguson nodded. “But I don't know, it'll be brutal but so far the Minbari have given us no indication they want to surrender. We might have to if we want to end this.”

“Message away sir.” The Commander informed.

“It'll be a week or two before we are rearmed and ready to go anyway, set defensive stations, deploy piquet ships and stand down the fleet.” Ferguson concluded. “Good day's work everyone, lets tend our wounds and be ready for the next round.”



Minbari Space.



“I did warn you.” Branmer said with an utterly neutral expression. It was the closest he had ever got to yelling 'I told you so!' as loudly as possible and it was only a life time of priestly training that compelled him not to.

“At the time the Council was correct.” Coplann chose his phrasing carefully. “However it seems circumstances have changed and Shakiri is no longer favoured.”

“Shakiri was well read in the art of war.” Neroon spoke up, ever beside his master and obviously enjoying the vindication heading their way. “Unfortunately nobody ever won a battle by sitting down and reading about it.”

“Shakiri had the relevent seniority and position to assume command.” Coplann continued, clearly not comfortable. “But I am forced to agree that his experience was… lacking.”

“He understood the concepts of winning battles but not how and when to apply them.” Branmer sighed. “He is a fine fleet commander, but he is not ready to be granted a position of full command. He needs someone to make the decisions for him, to give him the orders which I am sure he would execute superbly. He is in no way fit to be the one issuing the orders, his vision is too, shall we say narrow, for it?”

“Narrow is not the word I would use.” Neroon savoured the pained look on Coplann's face. “Buffoon I think works better. Perhaps complete moron sits better still?”

“I remind you he is still your senior officer.” Coplann cautioned.

“And I remind you he just lost our last standing fleet!” Neroon spat back. “And the only reason he is still my senior officer is because he did not have the courage or honour to die with his men!”


“Enough now.” Branmer quelled the rising tensions. “What is done is now done. How many ships did Shakiri save?”

“Not enough, and most were damaged.” Coplann winced visibly. “Maybe fifty can be made operational in the next week, the rest will take months to repair.”

“Valen's name.” Neroon spluttered, laughing with incredulity of the news. “The entire fleet of the Warrior caste reduced to fifty ships? You expect them to hold the border against thousands of battle hardened human war vessels?”

“No.” Coplann raised his chin. “I expect you to.”

Branmer nodded slowly.

“Are you asking me to become Shai Alyt again?”

“The Council has granted you the position, it is already done.”

“I see.” Branmer considered for a moment. “I refuse.”

Coplann froze, his brain clanking to a halt, unable to process the data. Even Neroon seemed moderately surprised.

“But... the Council... your duty...”

“I refuse, unless my condition is met.” Branmer continued. “I will have free reign to prosecute this war. I will not have to make constant reports, the Council will not interfere, and the Caste elders will swear loyalty to me directly on their honour.”

“You ask for a lot Branmer.”

“So does the Council Satai Coplann.” The former priest grunted. “You ask for a miracle, I simply ask for the impossible.”

“The Council will ensure you have what you want.” Coplann agreed.


Branmer gave a curt nod then headed for a console and pressed a few controls, the holographic curtain descending around them and turning dark as it brought them an image of space.

“I have been training the defensive units, the fleets of the worker and religious castes.” he announced, pointing to a fleet of ships practicing against each other. “Teaching them how to act aggressively but with control.”

“Their formations are sloppy.” Coplann cast a warriors eye over the fleet. “Their spacing is uneven, and they are not moving in synchronisation.”

“All of which is irrelevant, this isn't a parade, it’s a war.” Branmer dismissed. “I don't care if they are not equally distant on the same line as each other provided they maintain interlocking fields of fire and flank cover.”

He pressed a few buttons.

“Watch, a simulated flank attack by human cruisers.”

Coplann observed the fleet responding, detaching frigates to intercept.

“Simulated missile strike.”

Again the fleet altered, spreading out with escorts and fighters racing forward to lay down a barrier of point defence fire.

“Dreadnought attack, Starfury assault, hyperspace ambush.” Branmer cycled each scenario and each time his fleet responded. “What is missing?”

“I don't know.”

“Orders.” Neroon answered for him. “All warrior caste fleets need set direction, a pattern to follow. Upset the pattern and we have trouble reacting, we tend to wait for direct orders from above. It is what doomed Shakiri's fleet.”

“My forces do not need that, I have taught them to react to unexpected developments, to act without requiring permission.” Branmer explained. “Yes they are rough around the edges, they are not so fast to act as warriors or as disciplined, but they are much more flexible and they are far better at reading a battle than most of the Alyts you know. I'd take these ships over five times their number commanded by someone like Shakiri.”


Coplann nodded with acceptance.

“You taught them to fight as humans fight.”

“I taught them to fight how we used to fight, back in the days of Valen.” Branmer clarified. “Which is not dissimilar. Valen emphasised flexibility, moving not like a sword and shield but like a river. Melting away so attacks found nothing, parting before the enemy to avoid damage, and gathering like a flood to sweep the land clear before us. Always changing, always adapting, ready to become what we needed to become.”

“When we cannot shape the enemy to our ways, we must shape ourselves to theirs.” Neroon affirmed. “Fight as they do, exploit their weaknesses, make their strengths our strengths.”

“Is this fleet ready?” Coplann asked. “We still need time to retrain warriors to man the mothball fleet, to turn them from infantry into starship crews.”

“I need two more months, sadly we don't have two months. Tell the Council they will be ready to deploy immediately.”

“Very good, once our...”

“But I will not be defending our borders.” Branmer interrupted. “We will attack.”

Coplann frowned, Neroon suppressing a wide smile.

“I don't think that is wise.”


“I am Shai Alyt and have full authority to conduct this war as I see fit.” Branmer reminded. “We need to seize the initiative, strike hard while Earth regroups, while they won't be expecting us. You cannot let Earth dictate this war to us, we have to be the ones deciding where and when to fight, they have to react to us not the other way. We don't have the strength to hold them and if Earth learns that fact we are going to be in trouble.”

“The Council will not like this.”

“They will like humans invading Minbar far less.” Branmer retorted. “We need time to build our forces, ideally we need a decisive victory that cripples the Earth fleets and makes invasion impossible. I will take our fleet to Beta Durani, their main supply and staging area, and there I will do what I can to prevent invasion and give us a favourable negotiating position.”

“What do you mean negotiating position?”

Branmer frowned, then shook his head and walked away, Neroon following close behind with an equally unimpressed glance leaving Coplann to digest the conversation. He was a warrior and part of the Council but he was no fool and knew deep down Branmer was right. He had his loyalty to the Council and his loyalty to the people of Minbar and until today they had been one and the same. Now he wasn't quite so sure.

While it pained his warrior heritage to admit it, he needed to talk to Delenn.

 

[Harlock]

12


Earthdome

Geneva



“Ambassador Mollari, I hope this isn't an inconvenience?”

“Of course not Madam President.” The Ambassador to the Great Centauri Republic smiled what was no doubt a genuine expression of satisfaction but which looked forced, painfully so. With the narrowing of the eyes and the drawing back of thin lips over sharp looking teeth there was something just plain unsettling about the man. It probably wasn't intentional, maybe it was a common Centauri attribute, something subtle that reminded people that while they looked very similar these were aliens, not humans.

Londo took the offered seat in the Presidential office, the early sun streaming in through the windows.

“It is my duty to be on call for our friends here on Earth.” Londo continued. “Especially in these difficult times.”

“I'm glad to hear that.” Elizabeth Levy settled behind her desk commanding the space with an authority born from confidence that had been waning in recent months. The good news from the battle fronts had done her much good, and while she was still leading a nation at war the hopelessness of the initial months had now gone.

“May I first offer the congratulations of the Republic on your recent battlefield successes.” Londo chipped in. “Many of our generals were quite surprised, you have encouraged us to rethink our position regarding the Minbari.”


“A lot has changed, I'm sure you agree Ambassador.” Levy acknowledged. “however our overall policy of finding a negotiated settlement has not. This is not a war the people of the Alliance sought and it is not one we wish to continue unless we must. The Minbari have been deaf to our continuing requests to open negotiations as equals, even after our recent demonstrations.”

“By all accounts the Minbari are tremendously prideful, it is likely these defeats have stung them greatly.” Londo related. “They are not used to losing.”

“That may be but the Centauri as I understand it had some diplomatic contact with them?”

“Some, mainly border trade recently. We did once have an Ambassador in their territory but... well, it is a long and awkward story.”

“My reason for summoning you Ambassador is to ask if the Centauri could use their contacts too clearly tell the Minbari we wish to negotiate peace. By whatever means it takes Ambassador.”

“I can speak to my government, something like this could well be in our abilities. Not easy of course, but certainly worth our efforts.”

“That is most...generous of you Ambassador, you have my thanks.”


“There was another matter, I was going to raise it later but as I am here now if you would permit me Madam President?”

Levy cocked an eyebrow. “Please Ambassador, what can do you wish to say?”

“You probably know as well as we do that the Minbari use some form of stealth technology, your ships had trouble with this at the star tof the war.” Londo began. “But you seem to have overcome this obstacle, something no other group can match.”

“No even the Centauri as I understand it.” Levy nodded. “Despite having a few centuries worth of head start.”

“Yes, well, not for want of trying.” Londo smiled that sharp grin again. “My government would be particularly interested in learning how this was done.”

“Yes, I imagine they would.”

“Naturally we would offer something in return, technology of equal value.”

“Such as?”

“Artificial gravity, advanced weapons, rather large piles of money, the Centaurum was fairly flexible on the price. You can more or less name what you want.”

“That is truly very generous, this technology must be very important to the Centauri.”

“Our intentions are open here Madam President, this will allow our fleets to face the Minbari navy on reasonable terms. It is incredibly valuable.”

“A shame you were not so generous earlier in the war.”

“As you say Madam President, things change. Personally I deeply regret my government's decision not to be more helpful earlier, but my hands are tied by the Centaurum. Now however they are eager to make a deal.”

“We will consider it, in the mean time can you forward our request to your diplomatic people. I am sure brokering a peace deal to end this war will be just as appealing to your Emperor.”

“I believe so, the Emperor Turhan seems to be favouring diplomacy in his reign, this would certainly help him establish a reputation. I will keep you informed Madam President.”



She shook hands and allowed Londo to leave. A few minutes later when the coast was clear her next two guests were ushered in, representatives of the Narn Regime and Dilgar Imperium.

“Ambassador G'Kar, Warmaster Dal'shan.” she welcomed. “The Centauri Ambassador has agreed to pass on our request for negotiations. What are your thoughts on our chances?”

“Not favourable.” G'Kar grunted with unrestrained disdain. “The Centauri are creatures of habit and their favourite habit is deception.”

“You don't think they will pass on our offer?”

“Oh they will, but they will drag their feet, draw the process out.” G'Kar explained, leaning forward for emphasis. “The Centauri are afraid Madam President, afraid of the Minbari yes but so was everyone. Now though they are also afraid of you. You have done what no one in a thousand years has done, you stopped a full invasion by the Minbari fleet. This is unheard of.”

“The Centauri have direct experience of Minbari power.” Dal'shan continued. “Centuries ago when the Centauri were new to space travel they became rivals of a larger empire called the Garmak. The Garmak made the mistake of challanging the Minbari, they didn't believe the legends of invincible blue warships and thought the Minbari were hiding behind a smokescreen of lies and tall tales. It took just a few weeks for the Minbari to crush them, and when the Minbari left the Garmak empire became the first real conquests of the Centauri Republic.”

“The Centauri are obviously wary of the same thing happening to them, indeed I expect they probably planned to expand into your territory just like they did to the Garmak after the Minbari vacate it for them.” G'Kar scoffed. “Hopefully that will not now happen.”

“But the Centauri will remain wary, they will look at Earth as a direct rival, more so than in the past.” Dal'shan warned. “And for that reason they would prefer to see the war drag on, for both you and the Minbari to exhaust themselves so you are no threat to the Centauri, at least not immediately.”

“You cannot trust them to handle this Madam President, it is that simple.”


“I assume you have a counter proposal?” Levy asked.

“I do.” G'Kar confirmed. “I know a handful of Minbari, they are not part of any particular caste, they are some form of scouts or watchmen, I'm not entirely sure. I think that even after recent events I can contact them, and through them get word to someone within the Minbari hierarchy.”

“It is less certain than the direct diplomatic contact the Centauri have, but more trustworthy.” Dal'shan related. “And there are many in the Minbari government who also want to see a peaceful end to this and who disagree with the war.”

“Why have these people not tried to end the war before?”

“They have difficulty being heard over the cries of the warriors.” G'Kar stated. “But with less warriors around making noise...”

“I see. And I suppose our previous attempts at contact have not inspired confidence.”

“No, but I am convinced they are still willing to try again, we just need to keep offering them a way to speak with us.”

“The Earth would be grateful for any help either of you can offer.” Levy nodded. “If this does work Earth will remember those who helped her in her hour of need.”

“The Kha'ri respects the strength your people have shown, and of course we do not wish to see you harmed by Centauri treachery.” G'Kar stated proudly. “We know all too well how the Centauri treat those they fear.”

“Likewise the Dilgar will remain supportive of Earth.” Dal'shan promised. “In the spirit of reconciliation we will have more sensor packs to ship over and several of our top soldiers have requested permission to join the struggle. We would like to attach them to your forces as volunteers.”

“I can talk to the Joint Chiefs about it, but if they are willing we can certainly find a place for them.”

“Then with permission we should start right away.” G'Kar stood. “And I sincerley hope this cooperation between our nations will endure for a very long time.”



President Levy poured herself a glass of water as the aliens left, savouring the cool drink as she relaxed, barely reacting as a final guest joined her on what was turning out to be a very busy morning.

“Go ahead Vic, what do you think?”

“That they all want something and aren't shy about it.” The Director of the Earth Intelligence Agency spoke with customary plainess. “Technology for the Centauri, an alliance for the Narn, same for the Dilgar.”

“Suddenly everyone wants to be our friend again.” Levy sighed. “Will they help us?”

“G'Kar is our best bet, he came through for us before, he'll do it again if the Minbari are ready to listen.”

“Think they are?”

“I think so, but the dynamic has changed. Londo is right when he says we gave the Minbari a good kick in their pride. Suddenly this war has more meaning for them, not just avenging Dukhat, this is a real fight now, a real challenge. They're going to react differently.”

“But if they see us as an equal then a negotiated peace is no shame for them?”

“Depends how they define equal, they might still hate our guts and want to hurt us more than save themselves. This could send them on some sort of national kamikaze course, or maybe it knocked some sense into them. We don't know, my people still can't get much on the Minbari.”


“Still nothing new?”

“With the border open we're going to try recon flights again, but we can't beat Minbari encryption, we haven't found much useful from prisoners as Minbari field officers have very little data given to them, and the chances of infiltrating a Minbari world is pretty much zero.”

“So they could be at breaking point, or just catching their breath.” Levy frowned. “We need to open a dialogue, so far we're keeping our forces stable but we still haven't made good on our initial losses. We're mobilised for war but our resources are not infinite and even if they were I won't send millions of our men and women to die over a war started over a mistake.”


“I'll keep my people on it, but for now I suggest supporting G'Kar. Keep Londo happy but don't rely too much on the Centaurum. Both sides are only in it for themselves, but where the Centauri benefit from weakening us the Narn benefit by keeping us strong and friendly. That makes them easier to deal with in the future.”

“And the Dilgar? What do they want from us?”

“That is a more difficult question, I'd suggest playing it straight for now, they have been very helpful and are obviously wooing the Narn's beside us. I'd say they were looking for strong allies for the future, and we're top of the list.”

“If they keep delivering help to us they might just get their wish.”





Hyperspace

Minbari Warcruiser Valen's Reckoning



Branmer valued quiet, he needed it, his days were so full of reports, orders, problems of every description it was essential to just stop for an hour and meditate. It cleared his mind, swept away the clutter and let him focus on the critical elements of his job. Save the Federation from conquest.


It was a fairly dramatic concept, the idea of Minbar falling to a foreign power was inconceivable to most, but then again so was the idea of the Minbari war fleets being wiped out in open war. Things had a nasty habit of changing and as a general rule Minbari society was entrenched and had difficulty dealing with rapid and destructive change. They were not well equipped for the pace of current events, the full details of recent defeats were being suppressed but even with the Council's control of information it wouldn't last forever. When people learned the Warrior caste were no longer invincible it could shake the very foundations of Minbari civilisation. The whole race could lose faith in itself and all it had been taught.


Right now Branmer couldn't afford to speculate too much on the seismic changes that were coming, he needed to keep his mind on the task at hand. While he did not believe the humans could take Minbar they could make the job easier for the Shadows when they inevitably appeared. Naval losses were already shocking and left the Federation vulnerable, if the war did not end soon those losses would only increase. Branmer was in no doubt that this war would decide the fate of Minbar, that if it went badly they could end up exterminated instead of humanity. While most Minbari saw the war with blinkered vision as just combat with humanity, Branmer looked further ahead, his mind five, ten, twenty years in the future and what events today would mean for then.


“Shai Alyt?” Neroon spoke with unusual quietness. “I hope I am not disturbing?”

“Never, sit down.”

The warrior did as instructed, Branmer's eyes remained shut.

“My meditations were almost complete for today, you should try it, helps show you the important things.”

“I was never one for remaining still and silent.” Neroon shrugged slightly.

“No, perhaps not. But you are more insightful then most of your peers. You can see the fundamental truths that elude others.” Branmer considered. “You cut straight to the heart of the matter, focus on the core truth without any of the distractions piled on top.”

“I believe in being direct, and I do not believe in turning a blind eye to incompetence and vanity even when it comes from those I should admire.”

“Like the Clan elders?”

“They demand respect simply because they hold a position. They confuse respect for their rank with respect for themselves as individuals.” Neroon remarked with a tinge of hostility. “Most senior warriors are masters of the duel, and while it is honourable hitting people with pikes is no preparation for naval warfare.”


“I agree, but with no recent wars there has been no way to earn glory and prestige in space, one can only make a name for oneself on the duelling field, is that not so?”

“It was, but no longer.” Neroon replied. “Now we have many leaders who have tasted battle from the command room of a warship, it is they who should be our new clan elders, following you Shai Alyt.”

“Why?”

“Because our future enemies cannot be defeated by blades and pikes alone. Those who specialise in such weapons cannot lead us against the humans and win, what chance do they have against the greater enemy?”

“You have learned well Neroon, you understand why we need change and how we must adapt. The ending of this war will not mark peace for us, our work will just be beginning.”

“I understand. Though we should win this war first.”

“Speaking of which, have we been detected?”


Neroon shook his head.

“We're far enough off beacon to avoid the human warning sensors, we're also deploying our own temporary beacons as we advance. If Earth does see us and shuts down their network we should be able to reach our target and return home.”

“Good, we don't want to share the fate of the first fleet that made it this far.” Branmer winced slightly, being lost in hyperspace was a fate no one relished. “How long until Beta Durani?”

“About two hours. The humans will pick us up as we close in, I'm afraid the area is too heavily developed and too well guarded to sneak past.”

“By that point it won't matter, we are committed Neroon, it is important we win something back for our people and give them a victory. If we don't it could send cracks through the Federation that will never heal.”

“I never thought it would come this far, our main fleets all but wiped out, our reserves not fully mobilised, the humans could fly direct to Minbar if they wished.”

“Ironic that we now are in a position not dissimilar to humanity a few months ago.” Branmer chuckled darkly. “Fate has a Narn sense of humour.”

“Then our duty is clear, destroy the main human base in the area, weaken their fleets, and undercut any attempt at invasion.” Neroon spoke firmly. “The fleet is untested but unwavering, I know they will fight well.”

“They will.” Branmer finally opened his eyes and pushed himself to his feet settling his mind and hardening his demeanour in preparation of battle. “Bring the ships up to alert, I want us engaging the second we arrive. We cannot rely on the lazy tactics of the past, to quote our opponents this is war to the knife.”




Beta Durani System

Main EA Transit point for the theatre

EAS Agamemnon.



“Order Athena to stay tucked in on our flank, we have to wheel into formation together.”

There was a slight tilt in the deck as the destroyer turned sharply, the heavy mechanisms that kept the habitat sections spinning meeting some resistance as external forces worked on the structure. The Agamemnon swung around in a manoeuvre that belied its size, a ninety degree turn that would have embarrassed a cruiser a quarter of her mass. As she did so the Athena, the second of six Omega class ships in service, mirrored the manoeuvre and dropped into formation beside the Agamemnon, both vessels making a few simulated shots against computerised targets.

“That did it.” Sheridan beamed. “Nice work people, few more drills and we'll have these attack patterns adapted and ready for use across the fleet.”


For the last few weeks Sheridan had been doing his part to bring Earth's reservists back up to fighting standards. Under Hamato's command the fleet had gone from recalled veterans and fresh volunteers to a respectable and talented unit. Like the crews their ships were a mix of recommissioned older units and brand new models fresh from the yards which made integrating them into a single cohesive force difficult to say the least. Fortunately Hamato had proven to be quite creative when it came to organising task forces and by this point he had the entire force working together expertly.

Sheridan's role had been particularly challenging, as commander of the Omega group Sheridan was responsible for six pre-production Omega class destroyers, revised and improved models of the prototypes lost during the first days of the war.


The new warships were formidable and employed a significant leap in capabilities over the main line units. They were tougher than Nova class dreadnoughts but faster and more agile than cruisers. Their laser and energy mine launchers gave them greater range than any other EA ship but the assorted pulse cannons still allowed them to deliver a crushing barrage at closer ranges, though not so much as the Nova.

Sheridan had spent his time taking the ships to their limits, seeing what the designs could do, and then developing tactics to take advantage of them. Mostly it was an update of frigate and corvette formations playing to the speed of the Omega and operating as a super sized wolf pack rather than matching the lumbering wall or iron used by the Nova class. Both he and the crews had been itching to get to grips with the enemy and had been more than a little disappointed to have to watch the victory at Cyrus on the news instead of participating. Fergusons fleet would need to rotate back for supplies and rest soon which meant they would be going forward to the lines. They would soon get a chance to prove themselves.

Very soon.



“Captain, I have a priority signal from the Soryu, Admiral Hamato sir.”

“Better patch him through.” Sheridan flicked the small communication panel on the bulky arms of his commanders chair. “Sheridan here.”

“Captain, cancel all drills, we just picked up a Minbari fleet on approach.” Hamato spoke quickly but measuredly, displaying no panic but definite concern. “We have less than ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes? How the hell did they get that close?”

“It doesn't matter, take position beside my carrier group.”

“Yes sir.” Sheridan turned to his navigation officer. “Bring us into position, flank speed. Commander Carol, action stations, bring all fighters to alert one.”

“Aye sir.”

“Admiral, can I ask how many ships we're dealing with?”

“At least a thousand, this is a full scale attack.” Hamato replied. “They've evaded Ferguson and it seems obvious their target will be the mid range base.”

It made sense, Beta Prime and its associated repair docks and cargo clusters was the main supply and refit yard for the front, without it Earth's tempo of operations would decline sharply.

“I guess we didn't destroy all their ships after all.”

“An oversight we're going to have an opportunity to correct. Assume position and await further orders, I don't like where this is going Captain, this is an unusual strategy for the Minbari. Be on your guard.”


The Earth ships took position very quickly in a clear demonstration of their new found skills. Their basic formation was fairly standard, dreadnoughts at the core, cruisers and frigates on the flanks, carriers to the rear. It was a safe formation that Hamato could work from to confront whatever emerged from hyperspace.

Sheridan dropped in beside the Soryu, one of three Poseidon class carriers under Hamato's command. The vast warships carried nearly a hundred fighters and a vast selection of missiles to support the front line ships. While not really meant for direct combat they still mounted energy mines and a pair of long range lasers identical to those mounted on the Omega class. They were very tough and flexible units with the less obvious advantage of housing the most sophisticated combat information centre humanity had yet put into space. Hamato was already nestled in amongst the sea of data readouts, map projections and specialists waiting to see what the Minbari were going to do.

For his part Sheridan waited. The Omega group was Hamato's ace card to play at the critical moment and not before. They moved into position just in time, the fleet forming a barrier between the gate and the station, a steel net to catch the incoming Minbari.



Warcruiser Valen's Reckoning


“We have crossed the Beacon Shai Alyt.” Neroon intoned. “All ships are prepared.”

“Then our time has come. Initiate jump, fire as soon as you match bearings and achieve lock.”

“Yes Shai Alyt.”

“All ships will set flank speed and maintain it until contact, range will not save us, only fury. Take us into battle my friend.”

On the word of their commander the Minbari fleet made the jump. These were not the proud battleships of the Warrior caste, uniform in formation and decoration, they were a mixture of units launched over the last several hundred years. Ships which hadn't seen battle since the Garmak incursion flew in formation with modern vessels crewed by an eclectic mix of acolytes, apprentices and former cargo ship crews. The fleet possessed some Sharlins which naturally formed the core of the force, but most capital ships were of the older Sharaal class, a vessel very similar in appearance but smaller and armed with older fusion cannons instead of the feared Neutron beams.

Most of the fleet were frigates and light cruisers, a much higher percentage than the stately warrior caste battle lines. With relatively few capital ships Branmer had no choice but to fight an entirely different type of battle, one better suited to his smaller ships. While these lighter units had far less protection than a Sharlin they still packed a formidable punch, enough to be a serious threat to any Earth ship.

Shakiri had made the mistake of letting Earth dictate the battle to him, Branmer wasn't going to follow suit. The Minbari could not afford another defeat, he had to win, he had to take risks, he had to be aggressive. He had to fight like no Minbari had fought since the time of Valen.


The Minbari fleet emerged well ahead of the gate, almost at point blank range with Hamato's forces. Branmer had guessed the EA position and he hadn't been far wrong, his ships found their gunsights immediately filled with grey human steel.

“All ships, launch torpedoes!” Branmer called across the void. “Engage by sector, advance!”

Before they finished exiting hyperspace the Minbari fleet opened fire, a rippling wave of antimatter torpedoes fired off simultaneously, thousands of weapons hurtling towards the EA lines in a tactic ripped straight from the Earth Force rule book.

If the human crews were surprised they overcame it quickly, interceptor batteries burning into life sweeping a lattice of pulses across the bulk of the Minbari weapons. For whatever failings Earth force had technologically point defences were not one of them, the interceptors working furiously despite the short range and high speed of the projectiles.

Inevitably no system was perfect and several Earth ships were annihilated by the antimatter warheads, armour peeling away and internal structures turned to molten metal and gas.

Most missiles were stopped, which was fine by Branmer, the missiles were just the prelude.



EAS Soryu


“Enemy ships right on top of us! They're closing fast!” Commander Patel bellowed. “Second wave of missiles!”

“Keep hitting them, I want fighters forward right now!” Hamato grimaced. “Flanking units move up, I want a kill box established immediately!”

He looked at the display with a grim nod of appreciation. He had been expecting a closing battle, the classic approach of two fleets from long range to point blank. Instead the Minbari had jumped out at virtual point blank range and it was clearly deliberate. Even more worryingly they were going all out as soon as they arrived, saturating the EA lines and advancing at speed. This Minbari officer had thrown away his range advantage and chosen instead to go for impact, it was completely unexpected and against a lesser commander it could have thrown the defenders into chaos.

But Hamato knew his business, the Minbari were using a variation of human tactics and Hamato had been the man to help create Earth Force doctrine. He knew the missiles were as much a distraction as an attack, designed to force an opponent onto the defensive, to unbalance them, to make sure they did not get the first strike in. While his ships were defending themselves from missiles they could not engage the fast incoming enemy fleet units. Damn good trick, Hamato was forced to give credit where due.

“Carrier groups, ripple fire all nukes. Show these people how a saturation strike is done.”

“yes sir, plotting firing solution.”

“I want fighters up front clearing away hostile craft, throw in corvette groups three and four too, blast a way through their fighter screens so we can get some strike birds in to hit their main ships.”

Hamato narrowed his eyes, the Minbari had surprised him but he'd be damned if he let someone take control of his battlefield.

“All fleet units will open fire at will, all weapons free, hold nothing back. The Minbari want to go head to head with a dreadnought wall let them.”


Earth Force struck back and did so with fury, the cruiser and dreadnought groups laying into the Minbari. At this range the Nova squadrons didn't bother with their lasers and switched straight to pulse cannons giving them much greater punch. Salvoes of blue and orange pulses lashed like a hurricane in the face of the Minbari attack, joined by missiles launched from the Earth side in direct response to the affront of a Minbari fleet trying to use a human tactic.

Branmer knew this was coming and had prepared for it, he had his best protected cruisers up front, the bulky Troligan class armoured cruisers to absorb as much damage as possible. They were ugly and ungainly vessels unloved by most warriors but they were also spectacularly tough having being designed to close the range with Shadow vessels and survive several hits from their weapons. Even so in the face of concentrated fire from the EA dreadnoughts they weren't going to last long.

As they advanced they were backed by an assortment of frigates and escorts that went to work on the EA missile barrage. Like Hamato Branmer knew the missiles were as much a distraction as a direct attack, to counter that he used his escorts to screen his major warships letting their superlative point defences slice the human missiles out of the sky with irritating ease.

Branmer had learned, he had observed his enemy and he had learned how humans fought. He knew he would face massed missile strikes, he knew he would face a dreadnought wall and he had planned accordingly. His armoured cruisers took the brunt of the gunfire, the EA ships ripping them to pieces but buying time for his main force to get into position. His escorts dealt with the missiles, finding themselves preyed upon by human cruisers and fighters but once again preserving his core units from the human strikes.

Earth had played its hand as Branmer knew they would, it had cost him good ships and good crews, but it had not stopped him. Now it was his turn.

“Cruiser squadrons, flank speed, do not stop, do not slow down. Break through the human fleet.”


He unleashed his warships, and while mostly older models they still possessed a ferocious punch. The surviving Troligan cruisers peeled away as the cruisers took the lead blasting with every available weapon. At this range there was no question of missing, both sides were equally vulnerable with the older and smaller Minbari designs having no advantage in protection over the human warships.

The cruisers hit the dreadnought wall head on, the quickly narrowing space between the two sides witness to some of the most intense exchanges of energy in memory. Both sides were entirely on the offensive, every gun was blasting at the enemy with nothing reserved for self defence. The Novas were spitting fire at an almost automatic rate, an utterly ridiculous amount of charged particle pulses raining from each ship as gunnery officers overrode safety measures and kept pouring on salvoes.

The Minbari were just as fierce, the multiple beam cannons lancing and slicing, finding their targets and effortlessly parting Earth force armour. Crystal was shattered by the storm of pulse fire, massive warcruisers spun like toys as they were whittled away in orange and yellow infernos. They were too large and too close to take evasive action so didn't bother, in several cases ships were forced to plough through the glowing remnants of their sisters before meeting the same fate.

For all their losses the Minbari were not alone, dreadnoughts broke and fell apart as they were dissected by green beams. Those in the immediate path of the advance barely lasted a few seconds, pierced by dozens of beams simultaneously. Units further out kept hammering the Minbari and received fire themselves, ships losing half their weapons, their flanks turned to glowing metal, yet still fighting on with whatever systems remained.


It was absolute carnage, a close range brawl where the scale of the destruction meant no vessel could survive enemy attention for more than a few seconds no matter which side they were on. A few of Branmer's precious Sharlins were destroyed in the furnace, though most were screened by the Sharaal class ships which were unfamiliar to EA Captains and often mistaken for their more modern sisters.

Earth Force held firm but the energy and inertia of the Minbari fleet was simply irresistible. Where Shakiri had battered his fleet against the EA dreadnought wall and was destroyed Branmer carried through. He had done it on a carpet of dead bodies and burning ships but he had done it none the less and Beta Prime now lay ahead of him.


“Enemy fleet has broken through!”

“I see it Commander.” Hamato said perfectly calmly, observing the wedge of red dots passing his line of blue ones. “Redirect fighters, dreadnoughts will maintain fire and form for attack. I want wolf packs to head off the enemy and defend Beta Station.”

“Yes sir, on it.”

“This is not over, understand this clearly, we are not done yet.” Hamato resolved, flicking open a comms channel. “Captain Sheridan, your turn.”


The dreadnought wall simply rotated their guns and kept firing as the Minbari passed by, scoring more kills and accepting more losses. The Troligan cruisers that had peeled away now fell in behind Branmer's main units to once again soak up the fire from the dreadnoughts, their crews expertly changing positions with no micromanagement from above. The EA dreadnoughts closed the gaps in their formation where units had been lost, turning away from the shattered ruins of their lost brethren to pursue the Minbari. Unfortunately the dreadnoughts were painfully slow, there was no way they could intercept the Minbari before they reached the station and most of their fire was spent on the lesser ships Branmer was screening his main force with.

As this ferocious exchange went on the fighters were having their own duel almost unnoticed by the struggling titans around them. The Minbari fighters were still piloted by the warrior caste though the nature of their role meant they were far more flexible and open to new ideas when compared to the more mainstream clans. They accepted Branmer without question and fought bravely for him, accepting the challenge of fighting Earth Force without stealth with dark glee.

The Nial and older Tishkat fighters were not as agile as Starfuries but an edge in speed and they had learned new tactics to exploit that. While the EA fighters gave good account of themselves it was a much harder fight than previous battles and the Furies were having a hard time clearing a path for the bomber wings.



“Omega group, engines to flank, form on me.” Sheridan set to work, pushing back on his seat and setting his jaw. He'd watched the Minbari break through and knew this was not going well, however Earth still had a formidable presence on the battlefield and was far from out of the game.

“Minbari fleet is heading straight for Beta Prime.” Carrol warned. “Estimate contact in ten minutes.”

“They can outrun our dreadnoughts but not our other ships, and not us.” Sheridan observed. “Bring us up on their right flank, we'll focus on their capital ships, try and thin them out and slow them down.”

The destroyers began their counter attack, picking up speed as their powerful engines and reactors trained at their limits. Branmer's older ships had the disadvantage of less efficient drive systems than the latest warrior caste ships, and his eclectic mix of cruiser and frigate designs had frequently been constructed as escort and support ships without the need for high speed gravitic drives. While the Novas were being left behind Hamato's cruiser units were inching closer and in the distance the dark shapes of rail frigates and corvettes were looping around to cut off the enemy advance.


“Multiple human warships on our flanks.” Neroon warned. “They're engaging.”

“Maintain course.” Branmer confirmed his orders. “We can fight a running battle with cruisers, fighter status?”

“Heavily engaged but staying close, they have a discipline I didn't expect.”

“My faith in them was well placed. We need our escorts to provide a screen against missiles, we can't put them on anti fighter duty. Our pilots are the only thing keeping us from being bombarded by fusion bombs, we need ten more minutes.”

A unit of Hyperion cruisers drew up alongside, the spindly design catching Branmer's interest for a while. There wasn't much beauty to it but he could see it's function. The design was primitive, even compared to other human ships it looked outdated, but they still had respectable firepower. Was it not a ship of this type that had sent Dukhat to the next life?

The human ships opened fire as they flew parallel to the Minbari fleet, Branmer's ships shooting back with deadly affect. One by one the Hyperions fell out of formation, some disabled, others torn to pieces by direct hits. He watched them float into the distances spewing flames to be passed by fresh ships taking their place in greater numbers. Minbari ships began to fall behind, the humans deliberately targeting the weakly protected drive fins. It was a good tactic, Earth didn't need to destroy his ships, just slow them down enough so the dreadnoughts chasing him could catch up and immolate any stragglers.

Branmer watched with pride as his fleet adjusted, reorientating to defend against a flank attack using the tactics he had shown them. They reacted smoothly and decisively, the mark of true soldiers validating everything he had worked for. Whatever the outcome he was honoured to be part of this fleet.



“We're coming up on target.” Carrol called. “Cruiser units are taking a beating.”

Sheridan winced at the sight, the Hyperions were dishing out plenty of damage but they simply couldn't take the sort of hits a dreadnought could. They were being shot to pieces at an alarming rate, their path littered with burning wrecks, disabled ships and escape pods.

“We need to take some of the heat off those ships, bring us down on a scything attack, set target plots accordingly and engage at will.”

The six destroyers shifted like liquid metal, turning and flowing into their new vectors, main weapons twisting and tracking, missile bay doors popping open with brief gusts of cold air. While Earth had beaten the Minbari jammers the enemy ships were still capable of deploying conventional ECM to create a blanket of interference around them. While Sheridan could cut through it his ships had to get in close which was going to be a hair raising experience.

Ahead several Hyperion task groups were parallel with the Minbari broadside on exchanging salvoes of fire like some ancient battle in the age of sail. The cruisers were pushing themselves to their limits, engines roaring furiously, their escorting frigates and corvettes keeping pace a little more easily. Both sides were suffering but the Minbari seemed to have the upper hand.


“Target lock, forward guns engaging.”

The Destroyer group cut across the battlefield at a sharp angle unleashing their heavy laser armament as the closed, the powerful beams spearing through the closest Minbari warships. The Agamemnon raced through first, cutting a Minbari frigate in two as she focused her laser cannons on a single point. After her the Athena, Ariadne, Churchill, Alexander and Apollo all followed suit, each ship claiming a victim with their initial strike.

The turned sharply away below the cruiser line avoiding their fields of fire unloading broadside missiles and a hail of shots from their secondary turrets into the Minbari ranks before moving away and letting the aft batteries score a few more hits.

“Bring us around for another run, change our speed and vector, keep them guessing.” Sheridan ordered. He was relieved his ships had performed as expected, as a brand new design there was always uncertainty but in this instance the Omega class had just validated itself.


“Minbari fleet is shifting formation, I read heavy cruisers moving to block our path.”

Sheridan checked the read outs, a cluster of intimidating warcruisers were moving back and taking up a position on the flank. The Minbari had cleared recognised the Omega group as a threat to take seriously and were ready for his next strike. The cruisers moved quickly and decisively, cutting a quartet of Hyperions to ribbons in an instant as they tried to contest the area.

“That's our new target.” Sheridan gritted his teeth and accepted the challenge. “Hit them with lasers first, then switch to pulse cannons, maximum charge.”

“Copy that, intercept course plotted.”

“Reset formation for direct assault and execute.”

The six Omegas shifted from line formation into a circle and accelerated towards the Minbari. The waiting warcruisers broke off to meet them, changing course and advancing head on. Even at range Sheridan could see they were not Sharlins but still represented a significant enemy.


The Omegas fired first, outranging the elderly warships, but where their main guns had easily pierced the lighter Minbari ships these cruisers were a tougher proposition. The red beams cut across the forward hulls leaving vicious burning scars, punching through the outer armour but failing to slice through the main belt. The EA ships shifted their targets, the beams dancing back and forth to strip away weapon emplacements and sensors, snapping off the exposed drive fins and boiling away the outer surfaces of the cruisers.

Moments later the Minbari fired back, a mix of fusion beams and antimatter streams that slammed into the EA ships with exceptional fury. The Agamemnon shuddered as several tons of armour was blasted away, deep scars forming on her gravity sections. The new armour held against the Minbari weapons, the older guns not having the armour piercing abilities of the newer neutron weapons, but they were still dangerous if they could score more hits.


“Switch to pulse cannons, barrage fire!”

The destroyers continued to hurtle for the Minbari ships, altering their attack profile and hitting them again. This time the effects were more dramatic, the orange pulses detonating on impact to crack and gouge the Minbari armour. The warcruisers had fared quite well against lasers but the shock and explosive effects of the pulse weapons were a different story. They continued to fight but quickly succumbed to the pummelling. First one, then another, and finally the entire group ceased fire as they were reduced to misshapen and gnarled hunks of metal and crystal. Glowing pieces of coral against the black.

“Enemy task force down.” Carol reported. “We have damage to habitat sections and secondary sensors, number three missile bay is out of action.”

“We can live with that, set us up on another attack, keep up the pressure.”



Branmer kept one eye on the distance readouts to Beta Prime, the large station had already launched a significant number of fighters and had been reinforced by several frigate units. Alone it wasn't much, but Branmer did not like the idea of being caught between the station and chasing human warships.

“I have readings from the station Shai Alyt, I'm detecting a minefield, defence platforms and numerous fighters.” Neroon warned. “Even with the primitive weapons our enemy uses the station is exceptionally well defended.”

“So I see.” Branmer nodded. “This is close enough for us, detach fast attack squadrons, all other units hard about.”

On his word the Minbari fleet once again completely altered its formation and mission, turning fully around and decelerating hard catching the pursuing cruisers by surprise. They reorganised themselves from an advancing enemy into a solid defensive line in about thirty seconds, a feat of skill and discipline even the EA would have trouble matching.

“Battle line drawn up Shai Alyt, we're facing the human dreadnought forces.” Neroon reported. “Fast frigate squadrons are proceeding to attack the station.”

“We'll delay the human fleet here, buy some time for the strike units.” Branmer affirmed. “Be ready to jump on my order, we don't want to be here for a second longer than necessary.”



“I don't see what happened.” Commander Patel frowned angrily. “The Minbari main force just turned around, their forming dead ahead of us, standard barrier configuration.”

“Not all of them.” Hamato grimaced. “Several units are burning for the station, they're picking up speed, they'll easily outrun our cruiser and frigate packs.”

“What do we do sir?”

“We have no choice but to engage the main Minbari fleet, we can't go around them.” Hamato shook his head. “Cut engines, all dreadnoughts assume battle formation, open up the A-arcs and standby for broadside fire.”

“Yes sir, forces responding.”

The change in strategy had thrown the EA off for a few moments, the cruiser units flying past the Minbari core fleets and struggling to turn around, their elderly thrusters having nowhere near the agility and performance of the old Minbari ships. Branmer had been playing Earth, hiding his true capabilities. Now he had released his fastest ships and caught the EA pursuit out of position. It would take time for the cruisers and frigates to turn around and engage him and for those few vital minutes he could focus entirely on the EA dreadnoughts.

“All fighters will focus on the Minbari frigate groups, intercept them immediately.” Hamato ordered. “Send in the bombers.”

“We haven't cleared the fighter screens yet sir, casualties will be high.”

“Send them in anyway, we need to stop those warships.”

“Understood sir.”

“And get Sheridan over there, see how fast these new ships really are.”



The Earth fleet pressed on, the dreadnought groups unleashing their fury against the Minbari warcruisers which responded in kind, both forces determined to annihilate the other for the sake of their homeworlds. Neither side could afford a defeat here and the crews knew it, the need for victory pushing them to suicidal levels of bravery.

EA Badger class bombers now began their attack runs, wings and bays loaded with nuclear missiles. While similar to the regular furies the badgers were two seaters and significantly heavier with a longer fuselage packed with heavy weapons. They were formidable against light warships but too slow and lumbering to deal with most fighters, especially Minbari craft.

Reserve Starfury squadrons went in with the bombers as close escorts, the advanced units weary from constant battle doubling their efforts to tie down enemy warplanes and give the Badgers a chance. The Minbari of course knew what was happening and were prepared, the modern Nials continued to engage starfuries while the older generations of Minbari fighters broke off and intercepted the bombers, tangling with the escorting furies on the way.

Space around the Minbari fast frigates deteriorated into a vicious fast moving battle as squadrons pressed forward, regrouped, then attacked again. The bombers suffered grievously, their heavy armour all but useless against Minbari weapons, but never the less they pressed their attack runs and began to score hits knocking down a pair of frigates in the bright flash of a nuclear impact.


The Agamemnon cruised past the edges of the Minbari cruiser line spitting fire, ripping through a Torotha class light cruiser like paper, the surprised ship too focused on the EA dreadnoughts to notice the distant Omega. This was the role Sheridan had imagined playing when he had seen the abilities of his ship, picking off targets in the enemy fleet while the main battle raged.

“Captain, priority orders, we are to break off and intercept Minbari frigates heading for Beta Prime.”

“Acknowledge orders.” Sheridan nodded, switching his thoughts to the new challenge with practised efficiency. “Alright helm, take us about, we've got some catching up to do.”

“Omega group responding, altering course.”

The warships circled back around, firing a few more volleys as they reorientated and began to advance. The battle beside them was once again a cauldron of energy weapons, the Minbari fleet holding a curved front as hamato pushed forward from several directions, pinning them with his dreadnoughts and attempting to turn their flanks with his cruisers.


“Contact Starboard! Sharlin class!” Carol yelled. “Two vessels, they are locking on!”

“Evasive port! Come about and engage!” Sheridan barked quickly, instantly recognising the threat for what it was. Two Sharlin cruisers had emerged from the cover of their sisters taking Sheridan by surprise, the two capital ships a serious challenge for his task force.

“Incoming!”

“Brace for contact!”

The lead Sharlin hit the Agamemnon as she turned, the green beam slicing down the forward quarter of the ship. The improved armour performed amazingly well, it saved the ship from being cut to pieces, but the impact still cored through the outer hull and triggered a series of internal explosions that puffed out flame and shining debris.

“Heavy damage to the forward decks! Major fire registered in the hangar bay!”

“Vent those decks before the fighter munitions cook off!” Sheridan shouted above the alarms, the entire ship shaking violently as the rotating sections fought to maintain gravity. “Load energy mines! I want a fleet strike!”

“Energy spike, she's firing again!”


This time both Sharlins aimed at the same target, the second ship in line. The green beams caught the Ariadne and worked back and forth across the hull, systematically stripping away the armour and piercing the heart of the vessel. The Ariadne disappeared in a sheet of flame, several chunks of debris pelting the Agamemnon with a deafening clang.

“Get us close! Energy mines?” Sheridan gripped his chair, fingers like claws.

“Ready!”

“Fire!”

The bow launchers opened up with the technology recently acquired from the Narn, the weapons replacing the massive plasma cannons of the Nova class. At this range the mines didn't have time to burst at a preset distance, instead they and four others fired from the Apollo and Churchill slammed into the lead Sharlin directly and consumed it in bright white light, the antimatter warheads eating the crystal hull.

From the glare of the dying warcruiser the Agamemnon emerged at full speed, trailing fire from its wounds with its hangar bay a tangled mess of torn metal. It did not pause or hesitate, its forward guns slamming pulses into the second Sharlin at point blank range, the weapons alternating modes to stutter between beam and pulse shots in a continuous barrage that hammered the mighty blue cruiser.

A Sharlin was a strong enemy but it wasn't invincible, at this distance the Agamemnon put every shot within a couple of metres of each other, drilling through the heavy armour and vaporising the unprotected internal decks until finally something critical exploded. The destroyer turned aside from the searing explosion and cloud of molten debris, satisfied with its vengeance.

“Resume course.” Sheridan growled. “Put an end to this right now.”



The Minbari frigates went through the minefield at full speed, guns firing in every direction with pin point accuracy destroying the mines in vast quantities. The sheer number of mines meant that many had a chance to act before they were destroyed, the small constructs launching their handful of missiles or firing their lone plasma cannons with some effect but not nearly enough to justify their existence. Superior Minbari fire control let even the relatively old task force pass through unscathed and focus on the station and its perimeter.

Beta Prime was well armed and built stronger than most civilian bases, but it certainly didn't have dreadnought grade armour and while it was a huge target it would not last long against Minbari weapons. Its fighter and frigate screens moved forward and began to attack, the station itself opening up with long range missiles in support.

The Minbari took casualties and move don, absorbing their losses without flinching. The EA Artemis frigates were good opponents for the Minbari Tinashi class ships, armed as they were with rail guns and equipped with surprisingly tough armour for their size. Unfortunately they remained generally outclassed and buckled under the enemy advance, losing ships at an alarming rate.


Once through the minefield the Minbari split their forces, the bulk headed for Beta Prime while smaller units focused on the supply clusters around the station, gatherings of cargo pods locked together in massive trees holding fuel, spare parts and other non-perishable items. By splitting their force they made life a little easier for Earth Force and opened themselves to more damage but also let themselves bypass some of the human wolf packs and hit less well defended targets.

Resistance stiffened as they approached the station, defence platforms adding missile and plasma fire to the maelstrom with Beta Prime itself finally weighing in with its own defence grid, a formidable barrage of energy fire that wiped five frigates out of the sky in one moment.



“Targeting enemy frigates, we have lock.”

Sheridan nodded.

“Take them.”

The Agamemnon and her remaining sisters leapt into the battle, chewing through the rear echelons of the Minbari frigate force and quickly dispatching their targets. The fast strike force did not break, even though they faced a vicious wall of fire ahead, EA frigates in their ranks, and now Sheridan cutting them off from support they pressed ahead determined to reach the station.

“Captain, we have several enemy ships destroying the supply clusters.” His XO warned.

“Stay focused on the station, the clusters are unmanned but there are half a million people on Beta.”

His fleet lanced into the Minbari, passing several ships and blasting them with their flank guns. The frigates fired back when they could and inflicted damage, but most were destroyed before they could take a toll, the destroyer group tolerating no resistance.


“We're catching up on the lead ships, they're locking on to Beta Prime!”

“Like hell.” Sheridan snapped. “Engineering, redline the engines! I need everything there is right now!”

The Agamemnon jolted ahead as emergency power was dumped into the thrusters, the edge of the great cylinders beginning to melt in a ragged pattern. She scored another kill, then another, her pulse cannons finding no difficulty with the weak rear armour of the light enemy ships. It was almost over, just three ships remained and as Sheridan watched the lead one was obliterated by the station defence grid.

The last two frigates fired on the station cutting deep into its hull, but it was too little and too late. The Agamemnon tore through one of the ships while Beta Prime finished the last, the station wounded with a few deep glowing scars but still largely intact and operational.

“Main frigate force destroyed, we've just got a few stragglers left.” Carol reported. “Beta Prime reports damage is under control.”

“Bring us around to target the stragglers.” Sheridan ordered but he need not have bothered, the isolated Minbari ships among the supply clusters were rapidly falling to the surviving EA frigates and bombers. The few that remained made the jump to hyperspace after finishing off the nearest targets, deciding not to push their good luck.



“Our frigate groups have withdrawn or have been destroyed.” Neroon reported solemnly. “The human station remains.”

“It does, but we destroyed a lot of their supply depots in the process. With luck that will be sufficient.” Branmer accepted turning aside from the main battle. “Withdraw the fleet, there's nothing more to gain today, mission complete.”

Neroon set to work, the act of disengaging from a pitched battle far harder than it sounded. The Minbari ships loosed off a final ripple salvo of missiles to buy them a few moments of time, the EA fleet responding to the attack as it had to and lessening the pressure enough for the Minbari to loosen their battle line and initiate jump.

The vortexes opened between the two forces shielding the Minbari as they left, using their own temporary beacons to vanish into hyperspace and away from pursuit. Behind them they left more than half their strength and three hundred Earth Force wrecks.

“No pursuit Shai Alyt.” Neroon confirmed.

“Let us hope we have given the Council what it needs, a little breathing room and something that can be shown as a victory.”

“Is it a victory?” Neroon asked.

“We'll know in a week. Either Earth will halt its campaign or they'll invade us.”

“I don't feel particularly reassured.”

“Nor do I.” Branmer exhaled. “But have faith my student, I am only just beginning.”

 

[Harlock]

13


Beta Durani



The ship that punched through hyperspace was an alien design unknown to Earth space, a two kilometre long super dreadnought that lit up sensors across the system. The vessel boasted a long spike shaped main hull with stubby wings bristling with heavy weapons, a stern studded with semicircular gravitic drives and purple glowing thrusters, while its main body boasted dozens of smaller gun turrets.

The vessel was running with limited ECM, enough to prevent detailed scans of its interior though not enough to hide the scale of its reactors. Most notable though was the colours marking the hull, a base of yellow with intricate black patterns swirling in a unique style over the ship. It was instantly recognisable as a Dilgar vessel, and like the Sekhmet class prototypes from the war years each ship bore the unique markings of one of the great Dilgar clans.

The patterns on this particular ship were universally known and elicited immediate and grim reactions in those who saw it, the weaving of lines and curves etched in the mind of the galaxy. There were only three Valari class flagships in the Dilgar Navy, one for each major fleet given the markings of the Warmaster who commanded them, and in this case the warship wore the unmistakable markings of Warmaster Jha'dur.


It cruised towards Beta Prime on a fixed course and a regulated speed passing between the ranks of EA warships recovering from the battle that had ended only four hours before. For all its power this lone ship was no match for even a weakened EA fleet and not long ago it would have been unthinkable to see such a vessel surrounded by its former opponents acting so easily and casually, perhaps arrogantly.

“She's coming to a halt.” Commander Carol reported. “Signalling the station for permission to send aboard a delegation.”

Sheridan leaned over the communications console of the Agamemnon with a deep frown.

“What the hell is a Dilgar battleship doing out here?”

“Unknown sir, it must have already been close when we were under attack.”

“Pretty convenient.” Sheridan snorted.

“Sir, I have the Admiral.”

“Better patch him through.”


A moment later Hamato's stern and lined face appeared on one of the smaller video monitors wearing a classic neutral expression.

“Captain, have you examined our new guest?”

“Yes sir, we're getting all the data we can but it won't be much.”

“Are you aware of the markings?”

“Yes sir. Is it her?”

Hamato nodded curtly. “She's requesting a face to face meeting, she claims to have valuable data.”

“Do you believe her sir?”

“Jha'dur is a manipulator of the highest order, a schemer and a gamer who likes nothing more than toying with lives.” Hamato said bluntly. “But the Dilgar have so far proven true to their word, surprised as I am to admit it.”

“You're going to allow it?”

“I see no choice. While the source is repulsive she may in fact have information we can use, and it is unusual for her to leave Alaca.”

“I guess having a bounty on her head that could buy a small moon would probably make her a bit of a recluse.”

“She wants to talk to me, I expect she sought me out deliberately, but I want you there too Captain.”

“Me sir?”

“Your father is a master diplomat, which makes you the closest thing we have to a negotiator right now out here. Also if things become violent I could use your help.”

“You think she'll try to attack us?”

“Her, no. I on the other hand...” Hamato exhaled. “Meet me on Beta Prime.”



Fifteen minutes later Sheridan was stood in the docking bay with his palms sweating and a pair of Marines at his shoulder. In a few moments he would be face to face with the closest thing the galaxy had to the devil, a literal embodiment of evil in the classic sense. Sheridan believed the word evil was vastly overused, he tended to shy away from such dramatic turns of phrase, but in this case he felt entirely justified in describing Jha'dur as pure unreserved evil.

But it was not her that had him concerned, intimidating as she was Sheridan did not fear her. For all she had done she was still the avatar of a broken down people, a remnant of a dead society hanging on by her fingernails. No, it wasn't her, it was Hamato. The Admiral was a legend in the Force, utterly unshakeable, unmoved by triumph or disaster, even getting him to raise an eyebrow required an epoch making event. And yet this paragon of control had expressed doubts about his ability to restrain himself in the same room as Jha'dur.

That had bothered him. Sheridan had never faced Jha'dur in battle, all he knew of her came from stories and the history vids and it was enough to repulse him. But Hamato had been her nemesis, or at least the closest anyone had managed to the role and his failure to end her at Balos had ultimately driven him out of the Navy. Now he was within throttling range of her.

That this person could crack the restraint of humanity's most unmoveable leader worried Sheridan, and as he considered the impossible image of Hamato snapping he was left with the question of whether he actually would try to save her life. There was not an easy answer.


Finally the airlock ahead finished cycling, the doors parting to release the destroyer of worlds. She was surprisingly small physically, slender of frame and not especially tall, but her presence and confidence was engineered to dominate. She was obviously a military officer used to giving orders and expecting obedience. Her confidence was no doubt part of that, the need to inspire followers, to grant them faith in her decisions even if she did not share it herself. It was the way of command and Sheridan often acted the same way.

But there was a different level to her, something Sheridan did not reflect. He was a soldier, a man of duty doing what had to be done to protect those whom he loved and represented. But Jha'dur, that wasn't her reason for being in uniform. Sheridan served his nation, but with Jha'dur it was more like her nation served her. Sheridan would do anything for Earth while Jha'dur would do anything to Alaca. It was no secret that she had the blood of tens of millions of Dilgar on her hands beside the alien worlds she had afflicted, if she had love for her people, or anything else for that matter, she did not show it.


Alongside her followed a pair of additional Dilgar, an even smaller frail looking officer with sandy fur and at the exact opposite side of the scale an intimidatingly large and powerful looking soldier dressed in an unfamiliar black and grey uniform carrying a battered looking rifle. The larger Dilgar stood ahead of the other two and slammed the stock of her rifle on the deck with a loud attention drawing clang. She drew herself up and announced their arrival.

“Here stands a Warmaster!” She filled the bay with the words, both statement and challenge, not flinching ahead of the two Marines who shared a glance between them no doubt weighing their odds against the formidable warrior.

“Thank you Fei’nur, stand easy.” Jha'dur breezed past her guardian and approached Sheridan with a smile that offered nothing.

She halted in front of him in the blue uniform of a Warmaster, a less ornate version with minimal decoration presumably a duty uniform. She sized him up briefly, placing his face in her memory, assessing his bearing and stature and concluding that they were satisfactory.

“Captain John Sheridan, I didn't expect to be greeted by such an illustrious officer.” She spoke pleasantly. “Forgive my Shadow,” she referred to her guardian, “she likes to do things by the book.”

The tall female relaxed her posture a little and slung her rifle, but her eyes never stopped surveying the area and those within it.

“Honestly I was expecting a platoon of armed guards.”

“It can always be arranged.”

“Steer away from such hollow responses Captain, they don't suit your sincere nature.” Jha'dur chided. “Is the Admiral waiting?”

“He is.”

“Then please lead on.”


Sheridan marched her through customs stiffly keeping his formal military bearing. He didn't stop or break stride until they reached the turbolift, ignoring the glances from the weary and wounded troops crammed into the departure lounges waiting for shuttles out to hospital ships. Jha'dur was likewise unconcerned despite being within range of hundreds of soldiers who would have little hesitation in simply beating her to death as a favour to the universe. She knew they wouldn't, unlike Drazi or Narn forces the humans were far too disciplined to lynch her while she was under Sheridan's protection. Her two companions also seemed calm but from small ticks he noticed they were both far more on edge than the Warmaster, or at least less able to hide it.

They stepped into the lift and Sheridan hit the controls, bracing himself for the longest elevator journey of his life.

“The Minbari hate you.” Jha'dur said out of nowhere.

“I got that impression.” Sheridan returned concisely, not really wanting a casual chat with Satan's favourite sister.

“You tricked the Black Star into destruction using a dishonourable tactic, faking a distress signal to lure it into a killzone.” Jha'dur smiled. “The fact they used a ship in fake distress to lure your ships into a killzone apparently not registering with them. They really have no sense of irony, or poetic justice perhaps.”

“The Minbari hate me then.” Sheridan shrugged. “Somehow I'll find the courage to live on.”

The Warmaster laughed, catching Sheridan a little off guard.

“They just despise you for using their own trick better than they did. What took them layers of coordination and excessive planning you did with a wrecked ship and a few mines. You could not ask for a better bit of symbolism Captain, if you were to boil this war down to its most basic facets it is human tenacity and adaptability against Minbari technology and raw power. It could easily go either way, but I would certainly prefer Earth to win.”

“Why?”

“I have reasons.” She replied simply. “But I'll go into them with your Admiral, I trust you will be there?”

“Admiral Hamato has asked for my presence and opinions.”

“Good, you are a soldier Captain, no nonsense straight thinking Man of war. Bedrock of Earth Force, I learned to respect people like you Captain and so too will the Minbari. War Expert Shai'jhur will join us, she is also plain speaking.”


The lift arrived at its destination with the sealed off meeting room waiting for them. More usually such rooms held meetings between business magnates or government officials, fairly small and informal with a single desk and a video screen. Two guards on the door stood to attention as Sheridan approached, the Captain standing them at ease.

“The Admiral is inside and waiting sir.”

“Very good Corporal, seal the room, no interruptions.”

“Yes sir.”

“Your aide can join us.” Sheridan addressed Jha'dur. “But your guard will need to wait outside.”

The Warmaster gave a nod of assent with Fei'nur breaking off to stand opposite the EA Marines and glare at them.


With that resolved the door whirred open and retracted into the wall, the Admiral sitting at the desk with his eyes locked on a status report. He carefully and precisely set aside the paper as Jha'dur and Shai'jhur walked in, Sheridan bringing up the rear and closing the door behind him locking the four of them into the confined space. Hamato did not stand, his expression stony and his eyes hard. He was a man who was still consolidating his forces after a hard battle and assessing casualty reports, he had a very limited tolerance for distraction on a good day and this was not a good day.

“Warmaster.” He gestured at the chair opposite, Sheridan slinking off to the side to stand beside the wall and keep a low profile, Sjai'jhur mirroring him. Despite his presence having been requested he doubted he would have much to offer, this was a contest between master strategists and he counted himself privileged to simply be in the same room as this event. War Expert Shai'jhur must have been having similar thoughts as she simply stood at ease and began absorbing every detail of the meeting.

Jha'dur took the seat, her demeanour pleasant and open, utterly against type for someone of her reputation. Sheridan guessed it was a facade, a screen to deflect casual analysis, but Hamato wasn't about to be taken in by it.


“Thank you for receiving me Admiral.” Jha'dur said by way of greeting. Hamato had not welcomed her or offered to shake her hand, if she was upset by the apparent snub she didn't show it. “I apologise for the short notice but I think you'll agree it is justified.”

“You claim to have information for us.” Hamato spoke flatly. “Information too sensitive to transmit.”

“Right here.” She produced a data crystal. “My people have considerable influence in the galaxy, more than you may think.”

“I am sure.” Hamato remained unimpressed. “What is it?”

“Straight to the point.” Jha'dur half smiled. “No interest in how we got this? Whether our methods were sound?”

“It will depend on whether what you say is worth my time. So far you haven't given me anything.”

“We both know that isn't true.” Jha'dur beamed. “I know the game Admiral, you have been scrutinising every move I make, every inflection and twitch of a muscle. You feign obstinance but you are extremely alert, and you have two questions. The information, well thats probably the lesser of the two right now. You want to know why I came here to deliver it in person.”

“Why don't we answer one question at a time.” Hamato steered. “What is on the crystal.”

“As you wish, it's sensor data combined with some profiles.”

“What kind of profiles?”

“Everything we have on the Minbari fleet commanders.” She savoured Hamato's reaction, he barely flinched but for once he looked her in the eye, and in this game the tiny reaction was seismic. “And I assure you they are extremely detailed.”


“Where would you, a Warmaster, come across this sort of information?”

“I have a friend or two on Minbar. Try not to look so surprised.”

Hamato's face was utterly frozen.

“How do you have friends on Minbar?”

“Trying to determine if I've been giving Earth secrets to them? Wondering if I've been sat at a desk on Minbar telling them all about Earth?” Jha'dur cocked an eyebrow. “I haven't, and even if I offered they don't care. Most Minbari have no interest in learning about you, they have no curiosity. A dull people, not nearly so entertaining as you.”

“Are we your entertainment?”

“In some ways, and it would be a shame to lose that.” Jha'dur nodded. “But obviously Earth is far more than that, so we help you.”

“What about your Minbari friends?”


“I use the term loosely. I met them after Balos, it was informal as the Minbari are quite isolationist but seems I had attracted the attention of a senior warrior named Sineval. He was, well, an idiot but a useful one. Ambitious, prideful, lot of repressed anger which this war has let him release.”

“Have I fought him?”

“No, even the Minbari are smart enough not to give him real power.” Jha'dur scoffed. “His clan was a moving force behind this war, very militant and aggressive. Happily your forces gutted theirs and they have lost much power and prestige, their removal has made a negotiated end to this war a possibility, if a somewhat distant one right now.”

“Yet the Minbari continue to fight, and with increasing effectiveness.”

“That is because they reshuffled their forces and brought back Branmer. Do you know the name?”

“Signals Intel intercepted a few mentions, former priest who changed roles. Last we heard he had been sent home.”

“He's back, you faced him today.” Jha'dur informed. “And he learned his lessons well.”


Hamato nodded briefly in agreement. “The Minbari fleet that attacked here was more fluid and more dynamic, they were rough around the edges and not nearly as well trained as previous fleets, but they made up for it with their flexibility.”

“That is Branmer's influence, he doesn't believe in rigid battles and managing every aspect, he's making his officers learn to think for themselves which is rare in Minbari society. Sineval hates him, which means he's probably every bit as good as his reputation suggests.”

“We're looking to force battle at Jericho, our fleets are ready to intercept him.”

“They won't, you can tell Ferguson not to bother.” Jha'dur waved the idea aside. “Branmer isn't heading back toward Minbari space, he headed up past Cyrus colony towards Narn space.”

“Narn space?” Sheridan interjected. “Why the hell would he do that?”

“Because my good Captain Branmer is a master of his craft.” She tossed him the data crystal. “Put that in the computer.”

He checked with Hamato, the old officer giving him a nod.

“Branmer is the best weapon the Minbari have.” Jha'dur said with some note of admiration. “He knows how to fight a modern war, a war where he cannot rely on the usual Minbari advantages of stealth and superior ships. He knows he has to make his own advantages, manipulate circumstances to favour him. He understands that sometimes defeat is just preparation for victory.”

“What do you mean?”

“You defeated him today Admiral, drove him off, saved the station.” Jha'dur remarked. “A sound tactical victory, but Branmer was not defeated, he did what he had to do, he sacrificed many lives to do it, but he might just have won the war.”


The screen activated showing a map of the major powers crossed by a wobbly network of jump routes.

“Branmer has had scouts laying beacons in hyperspace for weeks, setting up his own network just outside the main routes, it's dangerous but it works and it will be a miracle if you find them.”

“Beacons in hyperspace are a short term measure.” Sheridan noted. “They need to constantly burn thrusters to stay in position, once they run out of fuel the gravitic tides just carry them away.”

“That's true, and despite their advanced technology, even the Minbari beacons only last a month. However it is enough.”

She gestured at the map.

“We don't know how extensive his network is but it is clearly present across your space. It let him get to Durani without notice, and now it let him reach Cyrus, but he won't stay there, he isn't planning on hitting the colony.”

A light flashed on the Narn border.

“Last night a Narn sensor probe detected unknown ships transiting its location, Minbari ships. We back traced the route and found they had circled around EA space and plan to breach your border from the opposite direction. They crossed at Grid Epsilon a few minutes later.”

“Wait, Grid Epsilon?” Sheridan frowned. “We haven't heard anything about that, the whole sector is quiet.”

“Of course it is, they are following their own beacons out of range of yours. The Narn only detected them because that probe had enhanced sensors, a fluke.”


“Our main forces are concentrated here and at Jericho.” Hamato frowned. “With reserves at Orion, Proxima and Earth. We have virtually nothing in the Epsilon Sector or the League facing sectors.”

“The Minbari could burn down a third of the Alliance before we can respond.” Sheridan noted grimly.

“Could, but won't.” Jha'dur shook her head. “Branmer is a true warrior Admiral, he refuses to bomb population centres, he won't level defenceless worlds. ”

“How big was this Minbari fleet?”

“Substantial.” Jha'dur brought up the sensor returns. “At least one hundred capital ships, plus several hundred lesser vessels.”

“Mother of...” Sheridan caught himself. “Where did they come from?”

“Recalled from deep patrols, half built ships rushed through the shipyards and commissioned in haste, recently retired ships reactivated, battle damaged vessels from early battles brought back to service, that sort of thing. This fleet is the final reserve of the Warrior caste, the last real force they can scrape together without waiting for the new builds or mothballed fleets.”


Hamato looked at the screen carefully, a tiny twitch of his jaw revealing the realisation of exactly how dire this situation was.

“This fleet crosses the border heading down from Narn space. Branmer is heading up past Cyrus. He's going to combine forces somewhere within our territory.”

“My assessment also.” Jha'dur nodded. “It is a very dangerous force, less precise than the honed pre-war fleets but they still carry a technical edge and have two excellent commanders, Branmer and Neroon.”

“Tell me about Neroon.”

“A warrior, but not as blinkered as his brethren. Branmer has accepted him as a protege and is instructing him. What Branmer lacks in experience and tactical knowledge Neroon amply makes up for. Alone they are dangerous, but as a team they are extremely formidable.”

“A fleet of that power led by those two warriors?” Sheridan grimaced. “We've got nothing nearby that can stop them, we'd have to go after him ourselves.”

“Not just us, Ferguson too.” Hamato gritted his teeth. “He knew.”

“He did.” Jha'dur nodded leaving Sheridan apparently out of the loop.

“Who knew?”

“Branmer.” Hamato answered. “He knew the only threat to his combined fleet was our own combined fleet. That’s why he hit here.”

“But our losses weren't heavy, we can still go after him.”

“Can we?” Hamato raised an eyebrow, Sheridan's stomach suddenly sinking to his knees.

“The supply yards.”

“The supply yards.” Hamato confirmed. “He played us like a virtuoso. He knew our main weakness, our dependence on supplies, he knew how fast our ships go through fuel and munitions in a pitched battle and he used it against us.”

“What about Ferguson?”

“His ships expended most of their supplies driving back the other Minbari attack weeks ago, they were due to cycle back here for rest and refit while we took over holding the border. Those supplies were for him.” Hamato reminded.


“You can see it in his tactics, he led your ships on that long stern chase didn't he?” Jha'dur pointed out. “Made you follow him, burn through your fuel. Why not just jump closer to the station? Why not keep a reserve in hyperspace to hit the yards while the main force pinned you down? Because the supply yards were only half the battle, he needed your ships exhausted too. If he had just hit the yards your fleet would still be fully armed, you could have gone after him, but not today.”

Hamato closed his eyes for a long moment.

“He has a golden opportunity.” Jha'dur continued. “He has evaded your sensor nets, hamstrung your two main fleets, and now all of Alliance territory is at his feet and no one is going to be able to stop him from taking the most powerful fleet in this region and doing whatever he wants with it.”

“He's going for our industry?” Sheridan guessed. “Proxima?”

“You're thinking too small Captain.” Jha'dur shook her head. “Your Admiral knows.”

She inhaled and leaned back in her chair.

“Branmer is a great man, this is quite possibly the finest exercise in strategy I have ever seen. His objective is to win the war Captain, he can't do it by simply destroying ships because he knows you can just replace them faster than he can. He can't win a war of attrition so he needs to launch a decisive strike while he still has the resources to do so. These are the last real massed fleets he will have, this is his last chance, he isn't going to waste it. Branmer will try to end this war in one massive incredibly daring move, a final gamble with the last of the Minbari fleets. Do or die Captain, it is exhilarating to behold.”

Sheridan shook his head with dawning realisation.

“He's not going to...”

“Earth.” Hamato said flatly. “He's going to Earth.”


“It's logical when you look at it.” Jha'dur broke the silence. “You are a new stellar power, the bulk of your population and industry is still on your homeworld, the same as us or the Narn. What use are the ships at Proxima without the computer systems made on Earth? Or the precision components needed in laser and plasma weapons made in Earth laboratories and then shipped to the colonies? Your financial sector is almost exclusively Earth based, your scientific and research facilities, main government functions and bureaucracy, all Earth based.”

“So he attacks our main concentration of economic and industrial targets.” Hamato concluded. “Very efficient of him.”

“Your economy and industry is your greatest advantage, cripple it and you can't support the war any more. He wins the war in one strike.” Jha'dur passed on her observation. “Turning your strength into a weakness. Very daring strategy, I doubt any other Minbari would have the courage or vision to try such a plan.”

“We need to warn Earth Force Command.” Sheridan spoke quickly.

“Already done.” Jha'dur stated. “As I am telling you this the Dilgar and Narn Ambassadors are briefing your President. I just thought you should hear it from me first hand.”


Hamato frowned very briefly before moving on.

“Captain, take control of whatever supplies remain. We do not have the fuel to reach Earth so I need you to prioritise our most effective warships. Take fuel from damaged and less useful warships and fill up are better vessels. We might not be able to get all the fleet to Earth but we can get the best third or so of our ships there. It might be enough.”

“Yes sir.” Sheridan at once set into work, moving fast for the door.

“Inform Admiral Ferguson, ensure he knows the situation and order him to concentrate resources in his best ships and burn for Earth.”

“Risky, that leaves your border undefended.” Jha'dur noted.

“Carry out my orders Captain.” Hamato ignored her.

“Understood sir.”


Sheridan hurriedly departed leaving the Admiral and the Warmaster still with eyes locked

“War Expert Shai'jhur.” Jha'dur addressed her own subordinate. “Contact my ship, we'll be leaving soon.”

“Yes Warmaster, I'll make preparations to depart.”

They sat for a few moments in silence as both their officers set to work, the avalanche of activity beginning.

“Shouldn't you be running around giving orders?” She asked.

“I never need to run around.” Hamato said bluntly. “I have time, Captain Sheridan is highly skilled and quite capable of organising this without my oversight.”

“So here we sit.” She smiled. “Ask me.”

“Ask you?”

“Don't be coy Admiral, I know it's on your mind. Ask me why I didn't just give this data to a trusted courier, or simply let your President tell you. Why come so far to deliver this to you in person?”

“I already know the answer. Vanity.”

She snorted a laugh. “Nothing so banal Admiral, no, it is because I wanted to sit here and meet you. I'm your biggest fan.”


“I don't have time for your mockery.”

“It isn't mockery.” She looked slightly wounded. “It is genuine respect. I have fought many commanders and slaughtered most of them, not many have ruined my plans, and only you managed to really beat me. You defeated me at Markab, drove me right back to Balos where I returned the favour.”

“Barely.” Hamato noted.

“You were lauded as a hero, a military genius, but too often people use the word genius to label that which they do not understand. A nebulous concept. But I understand you Admiral, I know how you think and how you fight, I understand you and that gives me a perspective lesser people cannot share.”

“I doubt that.”

“There are perhaps four people in this galaxy who are on our level Admiral, just four who can really understand the full subtlety and innovation of our strategies. Beside you and I only Dar'sen and now Branmer can truly appreciate our works. We are a very exclusive club Admiral and I wanted to get your measure, make sure you weren't just lucky. I knew you would not simply sit down for a conversation so I used this to get in the same room as you.”

“And your opinion?”

“Not disappointed.”

“Well then, if that is all...”


“Leaving so soon? I thought you had time?”

“I do, I simply have no desire to spend it with you.”

“Direct as always.” She showed no offence. “My reputation can upset people, but I had hoped you would see beyond that.”

“I do, and I still have no interest in socialising.”

“You don't wish to speak with me about the Minbari? Hear my insights? Whatever your view of me you must appreciate my analysis. You know it will be accurate.”

“Probably, but I have developed my own analysis of Branmer. I have met him in battle, twice, you have not.”

“And after I travelled all this way.”

“Take your games elsewhere.” Hamato said soundly. “I don't have the time or patience to indulge your theatrics.”

“You hate me Admiral? For what I did?”

“Truly your powers of deduction are unrivalled.”

“And now you plan to weaponise sarcasm? You have some catching up to do.” She dismissed. “I understand your position, it is common enough, but also the product of a closed mind.”

“I prefer to think of it as the response of someone with a soul.”

“A soul? Don't start getting all Vorlon on me Admiral.” Jha'dur chuckled. “What I did I did with a purpose. No life I took was taken in vain, they all contributed toward something, some higher purpose.”

“I don't believe that, and neither do you.”


“That is ultimately the difference between us Admiral.” She leaned forward and scrutinised the human. “You have fought battles but you do not know what it is to kill. You take life but you do it with a word, a thought, a button. I understand death like you cannot, and because of that I understand life. Life is an exquisite thing, the only truly beautiful thing in this universe, and you will never truly understand that until you have held a life in your own hands and squeezed.”

“I am a soldier, I kill because it is the last option. You kill because you enjoyed it.”

“Of course I enjoyed it. Does that disgust you? I can tell it does and that is unfortunate.” She shrugged. “I can just sit here and tell you it was all for a grander cause, the survival of the species, that sacrifices had to be made and I regret what I was forced to do.”

She smiled coldly.

“ But it’s a lie. Certainly that is the official government policy, they might even believe it, but of the Warmasters alive today I'm the only one who had no problem getting my hands dirty. The rest are dead and gone.”

“Why?”

“It made me feel alive, it made every second last forever, it gave me a joy you will never understand. Don't give me that look Admiral, don't judge me when you haven't experienced the thrill of killing an entire world. It changes you forever, makes the life you lead before hand look like a dull grey picture with no sensation to it. Every life I took made me feel more alive, so yes, I did it as often as I needed to.”

“And what about the lives you took? Did you not think anything of them? The hopes you were extinguishing? The dreams they had? The ones they loved?”

“People are resources, biological machines that serve a function or do not. Do you feel bad when you drain a battery and toss it away? Why should I feel the same for a life? It's the same thing, don't insult me with this nonsense about the dignity of sentience.”


Hamato gently shook his head.

“All you are doing is confirming what I always suspected.”

“I see things better than you do, I see the laws and moral restrictions you labour under as the deluded tools of control they are. These laws and demands are made by conglomerations of the weak to hold down and crush the will of the strong, to destroy visionaries and steal the heart from them! They do it because they fear us, they fear true innovation and genius because they know we are a threat to them. They know they are inferior so use the weapon of society against us! But it only works if you let them! All you have to do is say no.”

She bared her teeth in a snarl of contempt as she tore through memories.

“I am free Admiral, free of everything, nothing holds me back, nothing tells me 'no you can't' anymore. I am on the outside looking in and that gives me a far greater perspective than you, I am here because I was born to it and because I fought every second of my life to get up here and to stay here. This is where I belong, this is what I was meant to do, this is what I was always going to become, and I feel nothing for those too weak to follow me. Not even pity.”


“Is that all?” Hamato asked. “or is there more to this theatre?”

“Theatre? It is the truth Admiral, it is the way of things and if you are as intelligent as you seem to be you must see it too.”

“I see many things Warmaster, but nothing that makes me discard the lives of innocent beings as a form of sadistic entertainment.”

“Innocence is a flawed concept Admiral, I never...”

“Why are you telling me all this? Why are you delivering these speeches to me? Are you trying to convert me to your philosophy?”

“No Admiral, I just want you to see me for what I am.”

“I already do, your problem is that you do not.”

“I know my own mind Admiral.”

“Perhaps, but I don't think you accept it. I have met people like you before Warmaster.”

“There are no people like me. I am unique, and because of that I am dangerous. Your experience of other people means nothing right now, it offers you no advantage when facing me.”


Hamato steepled his fingers, fixing the Warmaster with the full coldness of his gaze.

“The war council thinks you have changed, your people think you have changed, but you have not. You are still Deathwalker, the same hatred and need to prove yourself still fills you. But prove yourself to whom? Everyone you looked up to is dead. You are right, you are unique. There is no one like you and part of that is that you are completely alone. Not your lover, not your friends, not your worshippers, not your enemies, no one is in the same league as you and while you declare that fact with pride in truth it haunts you. You are not one of us, and as it is your greatest strength it is also your greatest weakness. Which, if I recall, was the basis of your entire military strategy. Strength into weakness.”

“You were paying attention after all then.” She allowed. “But I have proven myself, my achievements speak for themselves. My monument is in the hatred of my enemies, even you Admiral.”

“You're lying, you don't care what the galaxy at large thinks, you have already dismissed them as resources. Why should you suddenly value their opinions? Unless you were wrong and they do matter to you.”

“I am not wrong Admiral, though I am enjoying this little verbal assault course. If I am alone I accept that, it is the price I pay.”

“It is more than that.” Hamato reasoned. “You are obsessed with finding a worthy enemy, a peer so you are no longer utterly alone. You don't care if its a friend or enemy at this point, you just want to know you are not an aberration. It is your one need, you need an equal and you seek it wherever you go, it informs your every action, even politics. The Dilgar need a worthy ally, someone their equal and you settled on Earth, I assume the others were lacking?”

“Essentially yes, The Narn and Centauri are unreliable, the Minbari too stagnant, the Drazi too uncontrolled.”


“Nevertheless, a worthy race isn't a real solution to your problem.” Hamato continued. “You need someone just like you, you need proof that you are not in fact unique, that you are not a mistake of the universe. You want to be a part of something, even if it is just a partnership with a single being it will give you the validation that you need, that you are in some way like somebody else.”

“Are you telling me Admiral that my great desire in life is to be normal?” She grinned. “Perhaps I did overestimate your intelligence.”

“You do not fool me Deathwalker. You are afraid, you always have been.”

“You think I am afraid of you Admiral?”

“No, you do not fear me, or fleets or armies, or even death. What you fear is yourself, and even if there is another monster out there like you it will not bring you comfort. Fear will still dictate your existence Deathwalker, and no amount of blood and bravado will distract you from that simple truth. Here stands a Warmaster they say, but how far have you really come from that cold empty house as you struggled to feed yourself and brother?”

He pushed the chair back and stood.

“That's all I needed.”


“All you needed?”

“You were right, I had no desire to meet you face to face, but it was necessary. Earth is becoming increasingly dependent on the Dilgar and it is necessary to understand who we are allying with. You came here to assess me and in so doing allowed me to assess you.”

“Bravo.” She said simply. “And your analysis?”

“Hell would be a fouler place for your presence.” He delivered flatly. “But your personality is not up for debate, your motives are, and ultimately I believe that your reasons are genuine. I think your views are deeply warped and largely repulsive but Earth does not have the luxury of picking and choosing its allies these days.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“You couldn't care less, you dismiss my opinions on morality because you do not believe I am qualified to pass judgement on you.” Hamato said simply. “You only care about my opinion of you as a commander.”

“And?”

“You are the most dangerous person in this galaxy.”

“Now that I will definitely take as a compliment.”

“Which only confirms my opinion of you.” Hamato exhaled quietly. “But I also agree you want to help Earth, for your own reasons, and this information is genuine.”

“Then let us shake hands Admiral, that is the custom is it not?”

She stood and extended a hand. After a brief moment of hesitation Hamato took it.

“To both our worlds, and to us.” She smiled, an expression Hamato did not return.

“It seems we need each other.” He said sombrely. “And God have mercy on our souls.”

 

[Harlock]

14



Earth



“We're putting everything we can into the sky.” General Robert Lefcourt informed the President stoically, his uniform wrinkled from two days on duty with neither rest nor respite. Like most of Earth Force command Lefcourt was acutely aware that time was against them.

“The local guard fleets are on alert and we've already activated any ships that were undergoing refit in the area.” General Denisov added. “We're lucky in having several first rate units at Mars.”

“Like who?” President Levy asked.

“Ninth Dreadnought Division.” Denisov replied. “Ten dreadnoughts and ten battlecruisers under Joe Tennant.”

“They'll be the core of the force, though we have other capital ships too.” Lefcourt added. “They are the most experienced ships and crews in the area.”

“Can they hold the Minbari?”

“Alone? no.” Denisov stated. “Even with the defence grid backing them the Minbari fleet will be too powerful. We're calling in all our local forces but we have to be cautious too in case this is a giant bluff.”


President Levy frowned.

“How can it be a bluff?”

“Our best theory is the Minbari want to cripple our industry and make a highly symbolic attack. Hitting Earth does both those things but our opponent is very clever and Earth isn't the only major target.”

“Both Mars and Proxima are in his path and are extremely valuable assets, those two worlds represent over three quarters of our ship building industry.” Lefcourt explained. “If we strip them of defences to protect Earth and Earth isn't his target...”

“Then Branmer can kill our shipyards and cripple our navy.” Levy nodded.

“We simply can't predict what he'll do, he's keeping his cards very close.” Denisov reluctantly informed. “Until he commits we can't afford to strip those fleets, but once he does we can have the Mars and Io fleets here in minutes.”

“And Proxima?”

“They have orders to move as soon as the Minbari pass them by. They're slow but should arrive within an hour of the Minbari.”

“We also have Admirals Hamato and Ferguson burning for home as fast as possible with a sizable fleet. They should link up with the Proxima ships and arrive in force.”


“Bottom line then Generals, and I want the honest truth.” Levy fixed the two officers with a firm stare. “Are we going to win this?”

“There's no certainties in a battle like this, especially facing this man Branmer.” Denisov answered. “I can say that even in the worst case scenario he won't be able to wipe out all life on the planet, he won't have time and we don't think its his objective.”

“However if he breaks through and moves into range of our major installations, we could be talking five hundred million casualties.” Lefcourt stated grimly. “Assuming the Minbari use anti matter weapons the same way we would use nukes.”

“This new commander may not be deliberately targeting civilians but these are weapons of mass destruction, we can't let him get close enough to use them.” Denisov resolved. “We're going to draw a line in space between Earth and lunar orbit and make sure nothing passes it. We have to hold on until reinforcements arrive, it's that simple.”

“No clever tactics or tactical subtlety, we just dig our heels in and throw everything we have at them.” Lefcourt picked up. “The Minbari have left us very few options.”

“Very well Generals, I won't keep you from your duties any longer.” The President acknowledged. “Do what needs to be done.”



Somewhere in Hyperspace.



“Long range scouts have confirmed the human fleets are massing.” Neroon stood in the cascading red light of hyperspace, the projectors in the command deck surrounding him with the spectacular display. It still sometimes caught him by surprise, the raw magnificence of hyperspace, its cruelty and open violence just a few miles away from the safe path they travelled. Not that he ever showed it of course.

“They've predicted our course of action.” Branmer mused. “Not unexpected but it is going to make this task harder.”

“We can expect heavy resistance Shai Alyt, the local forces are forming a barrier over their homeworld.”

“Understandable, but they can't concentrate enough forces to stop us.”

“Not with the ships in the system, but we know the main human fleets are heading for Earth at full speed.”

“The weakened fleets, less than a third strength.” Branmer corrected. “It won't be enough. We've successfully removed their numerical advantage and by forcing a battle at Earth they have to respond to us. We are dictating this battle, this is our fight to win.”

“Do we take on the fleets then Shai Alyt?”

“Only in service of our main objective. Our goal is the human industrial sites, once they are destroyed we withdraw. Preservation of the fleet is paramount.”

“Perhaps we should bypass them then? Jump directly into Earth orbit?”

“That would leave us sandwiched between the planetary defences and the guard fleets. I'd prefer not to have to fight on two fronts, at least not immediately.” Branmer shook his head. “No, we'll jump out by their moon, break through their line, then engage the planet itself.”


He watched the currents of hyperspace for a while lost in some thought or another before speaking again.

“How are the new ships?”

“The ships are fine.” Neroon replied. “A little roughly finished but the ships were never the question. The crews on the other hand...”

“Retrained Warriors. I can imagine that wasn't popular.”

“Once it would have been unthinkable, but they are surprisingly supportive of their new task.” Neroon related with a small glimmer of approval. “They understand what is asked of them and what Minbar requires. Every man and woman in this fleet is dedicated to their new duty and harbours no resentment, even the few Windswords have come to the realisation that there are more important things than tradition. Like survival.”

“And I assume you had no small role in correcting that misconception?”

“I may have made a speech or two.” Neroon smiled briefly. “I'm told I can be quite motivating.”

Branmer barked a laugh. “I don't doubt it!”

“They have finally accepted how dangerous our position is and that this is the new reality. Things won't go back to normal when the war ends, there is no normal.”

“It will take decades to recover and if Valen was right it is time we do not have.”

“I do not give much credence to prophecy, but we do face very real threats and we must adopt a new way of war to meet them.”


“You do me proud Neroon.” Branmer said from nowhere.

“And you honour me Shai Alyt.”

“No more than you deserve. Away from the influence of the so called elders you are developing into a fine leader, a clear thinker. That's good enough for me but the Warriors need more. They will follow you today, they will respect you, but in the times ahead they must do more than respect you. They must die for you.”

“It is a warriors duty.”

“Hell is waiting for us Neroon, and I'm not talking about Earth. Real, actual hell populated by nightmares and horrors we can only guess at. We will be sending our people to fight and die in that hell and duty alone is not enough to make them stand firm against such terror. They need more.”

He turned from the maelstrom to look directly at Neroon, the black robed warrior standing a little straighter under the gaze.

“You have served me well as my second Neroon, but it’s time you left my shadow. I am assigning you a fleet command, you will lead the newly arrived Warrior caste ships.”

“With respect...”

“They need a good leader, someone who can lead them properly, who knows how to fight. That is you Neroon, you are the only one I trust to do it.” Branmer headed off any argument. “And you need to prove your talents, to stand alone and show you are not just a follower but a leader. I know you are quite able to do this.”


“If that is your will Shai Alyt.”

“It is.” Branmer nodded. “Those ships are green but powerful, top of the line warcruisers. You will assist me in breaking through the Human line, then you will establish a defensive position while I take my forces to attack Earth directly.”

“You don't need my help with the defence grid?”

“The humans have reinforcements on the way, I need you to stop them dead.” Branmer explained. “Hold off the reinforcements until I can finish the mission, then we withdraw together.”

“Understood Shai Alyt.” Neroon nodded, understanding the wisdom in the order.

“Be aware Neroon that the human reinforcements are commanded by their best leaders and contain their best ships and crews. You will have to stand alone against men who have defeated every Minbari fleet that has faced them.”

“I will make sure you have the time you need Shai Alyt.”

“I do not doubt it.” Branmer nodded. “You are the future Neroon, and that is a deeply reassuring thought. Now go, report to your command.”

“Yes Shai Alyt, and thank you.”

“Don't thank me yet, I just gave you an impossible task.”

“Difficult yes, impossible...” Neroon grinned. “We will see.”

“Then we have much work to do. Contact me when all is ready, we have little time to spare.”




Somewhere in Narn Space



G'Kar paced the room with the acute awareness of a man on a strict timetable glancing periodically at the clock on the wall counting through the forty hours that made up a day on this blasted barely habitable lump of rock. It wasn't even a colony, it barely qualified as an outpost, in fact moon was pushing it. Gravity here was ten percent that of Narn and he was already unhappy about it, these were not suitable conditions to conduct extensive negotiations.

On the other hand this poor little sliver of Narn territory did have one advantage, a massive wall of warships floating overhead. It was a staging area for the Narn Regime's Blue Fleet, one of their main combat forces equipped with a wide range of powerful units including several of the brand new G'Quan class cruisers. In addition the outpost itself was heavily defended for its size with ground based guns and satellites to protect the fuel and munitions stored here.

It was the most secure site G'Kar could think of, it was in Narn space and isolated enough so he could control any access, but it was also massively well defended in case anyone tried to interfere in the coming meeting. After what had happened last time he was taking no chances.


The first arrivals were a Dilgar flotilla and a Drazi squadron, still a sight which gave him a brief upswell of pride. Warmaster Dar'sen and Warleader Stro'kath had forged a curious working relationship built on honour and respect for each other as warriors and G'Kar understood that, but it hadn't stopped him portraying himself as the man who got the Drazi and Dilgar to sit at a table together and talk. The amount of political capital he was making from recent events was staggering, and if all went well it was going to soar.

The second group of ships was even more remarkable, a battered Minbari warcruiser and a few green and bronze coloured patrol ships flying escort. The warcruiser had obviously seen better days and had chunks torn out of it but it was still an intimidating and powerful weapon of war.

This was why G'Kar was on edge, the last time he had arranged a meeting with the Minbari he had nearly ended up dead and a senior member of Minbari society had expired on his watch. Frankly given the sort of grudges Minbari could hold he was amazed to still be breathing. Yet here he was walking into that same lions den again.

Though this time he was of course very prepared.


The three groups of ships fell into orbit and launched their respective shuttles, all very cautious and closely monitored by the Narn fleet above. They were cleared through under guard, each delegation bringing plenty of their own security be it Imperial Guards, Chosen Warriors or Anla'shok. The timing was carefully arranged so all three arrived at the meeting room simultaneously, only two people per faction were allowed in with the room sealed and guarded upon their entry. G'Kar was content to stay there alone as a sign of trust and confidence, as of course was Stro'kath, the old soldier utterly disdaining the idea that he needed an escort.

Dar'sen brought his aide with him, a young officer who stood back and said nothing. Of more interest to all in the room were the two Minbari, the real reason this meeting was happening. Both wore the mottled brown robes of the Rangers, similar to that Lenonn had worn to the original fateful meeting. The lead Minbari was old, though not so old as Lenonn had been, and his escort stood with the broad presence of a seasoned warrior.

“Sech Turval is it?” G'Kar opened proceedings. “I'm glad you agreed to come after what happened to your predecessor.”

“It is necessary.” Turval said simply. “Lenonn believed in peace and so do I, so do many and I speak for them. Lenonn would wish for our voices to still be heard.”


“You have courage following the path of a man who died doing the same thing.” Stro'kath gave a curt nod of approval. “Who did that anyway?”

“We don't know, but we hope to find out.” Turval replied simply. “Representative G'Kar has assured us security here is air tight.”

“Unquestionably.” G'Kar enthused. “There are hundreds of Narn ships shielding us, nothing can break through.”

“Assuming those ships are loyal?” Stro'kath suggested. “How do you know it wasn't one of your rivals G'Kar trying to kill you? Word is you have a lot of enemies.”

“True and true, but the Blue fleet is commanded by G'Sten, my uncle and a father to me since the death of my blood father. He would not permit such treachery.”

“That's enough for me.” Dar'sen nodded.

“And in the event of assassins or the like, Sech Durhan will defend us.” Turval informed.

“Durhan, I know the name.” Dar'sen regarded the warrior. “They say you are the finest duellist in the galaxy.”

“I don't know who 'they' are, but I have yet to be defeated in single combat.” Durhan nodded. “Take that as you will.”

“Well now that introductions are over why don't we get down to business? We all know this war cannot go on for much longer, one way or another it needs to end.”


“It will end.” Stro'kath declared confidently. “We have raised a second fleet to assist Earth and I will lead them personally into battle.”

“Wasn't your last fleet lost without trace?” G'Kar asked.

“Destroyed in an ambush in hyperspace.” Stro'kath sneered. “A crime no Drazi will ever forget.”

“We heard about the loss of your ships, it was not a Minbari fleet.” Turval said frankly. “But if you assist Earth my comrades will engage you.”

“So be it.” Stro'kath accepted. “We were willing to fight beside Earth when everything was against us and victory was impossible. Today we can fight back, and that should make your comrades afraid.”

“He isn't the only one.” Dar'sen added. “The Warcouncil is deploying a Strike Fleet to Earth space as part of a joint deployment with the Drazi.”

“Dilgar and Drazi fighting side by side.” Stro'kath grinned. “A powerful message wouldn't you say?”

“Powerful and practical, between my capital ships and you fast attack squadrons we are a flexible and dangerous force.” Dar'sen agreed. “Old enemies united in common cause.”

“And not just you.” G'Kar suddenly spoke up. “The Narn will also send a fleet to help Earth!”

That raised some interest, not least with G'Kar himself. The Kha'ri of course had decreed no such thing but he was damned if he was going to let this moment slip. Dropping the Regime into the middle of a war wasn't exactly within his authority no matter how much influence he had, but he wasn't about to let the Narn sit on the sidelines while others reaped all the gratitude and post war favours.

“Impressive.” Dar'sen allowed. “Narn, Drazi and Dilgar united with the humans. With all of us arrayed against you the Minbari must know they can't win.”


“Even before this the Grey Council knew a true victory was impossible.” Turval allowed. “Accepting it however is another matter. Many would die before giving up their pride, indeed many have.”

“What about those who want peace?” Dar'sen asked.

“They are gaining more influence, an honourable peace is spoken of openly.” Turval related. “But to do so means we must change our minds, abandon our goal of destroying humanity. I and many others wish this, it was a grave mistake born of grief and anger, something which would destroy the heart of our people as surely as it would have destroyed humanity.”

“It's beyond your reach anyway now.” Stro'kath shrugged. “I like a good fight, but it's not always the best option. I'm standing here with a Narn and a Dilgar and neither of them are spitting out teeth. How many people would believe that?”

“I'm still having a hard time working it out.” Dar'sen grinned.

“It proves anyone can make peace if there is a good enough reason.” Stro'kath spoke with passion. “There is no shame in an equal peace, an agreement between people of honour. Whatever your warriors may think I know the humans have honour, I have seen it, I have seen them fight and die for my world, a world most humans will never visit and few really even think about. What they did was more than most of our League allies did, and for that reason, that debt of honour, I send my bravest to fight and die for Earth. I am Warleader, those lives are the most precious resource my nation has, yet I have no hesitation in sending them to fight this war and earn glory in battle or in death. That is what it means to us.”

“I stand with my colleague.” Dar'sen nodded. “There is no shame in reaching agreement with the humans, it saved my people and we are ready to help save Earth.”


“This is not something we dispute.” Turval offered agreement. “If this war increases in scale it will drive home how serious our situation is, and your reasons for fighting are powerful arguments. But right now no one will listen, not while there is still hope of victory.”

“You mean Branmer.” Dar'sen reasoned.

“You must know by now he means to attack Earth itself?” Turval checked. “He will target military targets and industry.”

“None of our fleets can reach Earth in time.” The Supreme Warmaster informed. “It's up to the humans alone to stop Branmer, but whatever the outcome the arrival of our forces will tip the balance firmly against you.”

“I know and I will take this information back. But you must understand that this represents a fundamental change in the way the Council works, and they do not easily accept that.”

“Their inflexibility has cost a lot of lives.” Stro'kath growled. “Human and Minbari alike.”

“And it will no doubt cost more.” Turval exhaled. “But we will find a way. A member of the Grey Council is prepared to attend negotiations with Earth if the humans are still open to talks.”

“They were when I left Earth, but they might not be if the battle goes badly for them.” G'Kar informed. “This attack on their home may, I believe the term is 'piss them off' or something similar.”


“Then we must hope for reason on both sides.” Turval voiced. “But even with talks we must find a way for the Council to end the war and reverse its decision without appearing to admit they were wrong. Some new information that cannot be ignored, something that lets us stand down without losing face.”

“Is an equal peace not enough?” Stro'kath frowned. “Will your people not accept Earth has honour?”

“They want to I think, but it is difficult. If the war were so easy to stop we would have done so by now. We are trying but there is a thousand years of inertia to overcome, more even.”

“Ultimately everything we're discussing is going to hinge on what happens at Earth.” Dar'sen concluded. “If Branmer succeeds Earth will be in no position to strike back and you can negotiate a peace through us. If Branmer fails and loses his fleet Earth can rebuild faster than you can. In six months they'll have a thousand brand new ships and be at Minbar.”

“Whatever happens it'll start in a few hours.” G'Kar observed quietly. “Perhaps we should meet again afterwards?”

They agreed and split up leaving G'Kar to make the video call of his life to the Kha'ri.



Earth Station 4



Death closes all; but something ere the end,

Some work of noble note, may yet be done,

Not unbecoming men that strove with gods.



“Still reading that old book?”

Jeffrey Sinclair glanced up from the elderly tome and its yellow pages with a look of feigned annoyance.

“Well I could kill braincells watching the Disney network like you do...”

“One time!” Mitchell defended. “One time that happened and I still haven't lived it down!”

“I'm sure Princess Poppet is perfectly good material for my Squadron XO to take lessons from.”

“Well to be fair I did pick up a really good recipe for cookie sprinkles and fairy cakes, but that's a completely different argument.”

Sinclair laughed gently, setting the book aside.

“How's the squadron doing?”

“Twirling their thumbs and waiting to get back into the fight.” Mitchell answered with a shrug. “We had a month of leave, it's appreciated but it's time we were back in the action especially with things the way they are.”

“Nemesis should be ready to go in the next two days or so, when she ships out so do we.”

“You think they'll finally order us into the counter attack?” Mitchell wondered. “I mean we're ready to take the war to them now right? We can end this.”

“Maybe.” Sinclair allowed. “We'll see what Brass says.”

“As usual.” Mitchell exhaled. “So, you going to go see her?”


Sinclair didn't have to ask who 'she' referred to. Mitchell was a good friend, they'd trained together and ended up serving together when Sinclair transferred to the front lines. Even so there were still some things he kept private.

“Maybe.”

“So that's a yes then?” Mitchell raised an eyebrow. “Come on! Just get over there, this calm cool act isn't fooling anyone.”

“I didn't think I was that obvious.”

“If you flew like you dated a guy with a mop could take you out. Just go, I'll handle things for a while.”

“I dunno...”

“Jeff, go.”

He accepted defeat with a graceful nod, stood up and headed for the door.

“Ready room two.” Mitchell informed. “But I bet you already knew that right?”

Of course he did, he knew exactly when she was landing and where she was staying.

“Smartass.” He grinned back and set off down the corridor.


The space station wasn't huge and was built around the familiar ring design Earth had come to favour, this particular example having being built not long after First Contact to guard Earth orbit. It was a bit outdated but still served its main function as a refuelling base for warships and a staging platform for fighters and personnel transports. A lot of people passed through every day but Sinclair had someone specific in mind.

He tapped on the door to the ready room and entered to find a trio of pilots draped over the worn chairs discussing something. They were young and confident, the image of fighter pilots a galaxy over, the three of them glancing over as he entered.

“How about we pick this up later.” The nearest pilot stood. “”Hanji and I need to be somewhere else.”

“We do... oh, right, yeah. Somewhere else.”

The two departing pilots gave Sinclair a nod, clearly recognising him, and left the celebrated officer alone with their last squad mate.

“Hey Jeff.” Catherine Sakai offered. “You're here too huh?”

“Heading out in a day or two, you?”

“Garrison duty on Proxima, then down to the Koulani border. Been some rumblings.”

“My Brother is deployed down there guarding the frontier.”

“I'll tell him hi.”


They stood awkwardly for a long moment, each wanting to say something but not sure if it was a smart thing to do.

“You're looking good.” Sinclair managed after a while. “Healthy.”

“Healthy? Three years and you're complimenting my diet?”

“I...well, it's been three years?”

“Three years and a war. Puts a lot of water under the bridge.” She observed trying not to meet his gaze.

“How's your Aunt?”

“She's good, still working for the firm. You should see her kids, they can already pilot a ship. Quick studies.”

“Must be in the blood.”

“So we're done with the small talk then? Because I need to pack my gear.”

“I wanted to make sure you were alright.” Sinclair admitted. “With the war... a lot of people didn't come back.”

“Yeah.” She exhaled. “Yeah, I know. We saw some action, lost a man. Could have been worse.”

“Heard you made a kill.”

“Three actually at Jericho.” She corrected. “Caught them napping.”


She finally looked up and met his gaze.

“I was worried too. I know you think you're the best man to ever ride a jet but you aren't invincible.”

“I know, there's always somebody out there better or luckier.”

“Maybe it'll be over soon, people are talking about a counter attack, that we have them against a wall.”

“We held Durani but it wasn't pretty. This is when they are most dangerous, when they're backed into a corner.”

“If we hit one of their worlds its going to be hell isn't it?” She asked.

“They're just about as stubborn as we are. They'll fight to the death. Best you're away from that.”

“Is that you're way of saying I'm not good enough?” She raised a fierce eyebrow. “You know we Sakai folks have been flying fighters just as long as the Sinclair dynasty.”

“I don't want to lose you. There, I said it. Happy?”

“Why are you always so damn defensive?”

“Because this is not easy, I never know what to do around you.” Sinclair grunted.

“I dunno, you seemed to know exactly what you were doing in the past.” She shrugged. “Until you left and we both ended up on opposite sides of the universe.”

“Yeah.”

“And like we're about to do again. Koulani on one side, Minbari on another. Both dangerous missions.”

“I know.”

She huffed loudly.

“I have terrible impulse control, I know a quiet place.”

“I thought you'd never ask.”

“We're both very, very dumb.” She exhaled. “But what the hell, might be our last chance.”



*


A few hours later Sinclair emerged from a secluded munitions room, Catherine not far behind adjusting her flight suit.

“We keep getting into these situations.” She exhaled. “So that's it for another three years?”

“No, not this time, this time it's different.” He promised.

“You always say that, but we just fall into this same pattern.”

“Then lets change it. This time lets...”

He was interrupted by a general alarm going off, the universal order to report to combat stations.

“What the hell is that for?” Catherine frowned heavily. “We're over Earth.”

“I don't know but we better find out.” Sinclair fixed Catherine with a strong glance. “We'll talk later.”

“Sure we will.” She forced herself to believe it. “We'll fix it.”


It took a little while for Sinclair to organise his mind and set aside the personal turmoil bombarding him. His relationship with Catherine Sakai was chaotic which wasn't helped by them meeting at incredibly inopportune moments. He prided himself on being calm to the point of Zen especially in stressful situations but all that evaporated when he got within ten feet of Catherine. They were wrong for each other, they clashed more than they agreed, but honestly he didn't care. They had a spark, a rare passion, and that was enough to overcome anything else.


“Mitchell.” He made it to the Squadron ready room. “What happened?”

“I don't know, we just heard the alarm.” He reported, the rest of the unit filtering in and gathering together to speculate. There were two squadrons gathered here, his own Ghost Riders and the Jolly Rogers who shared their assignment to the Nemesis. He was about to talk to the other squadron leader when the broad mass of Joe Tennant thundered into the room. Instantly the pilots found their seats, a briefing from their commanding officer a rare and usually ominous sign.

“At ease people.” Tennant began notably skipping his usual humorous opening quip. “The alarm is no drill, we're on alert and expect to be in action within the next few hours.”

The room was deathly silent.


“We have reports of a Minbari fleet heading this way, straight for Earth. We've been ordered to stop them, and we damn well will. Expect heavy enemy forces under competent leadership, this will not be a cake walk.”

He paused for a second to let his next words hit hard.

“This is going to be the hardest fight of the war. They're coming for Earth and they caught us out of place and out of time. No jokes, no tall tales, it doesn't get any more serious than this. The President is ordering everything that can fly to form a line in orbit and hold the Minbari until reinforcements arrive no matter the cost.”

He gritted his teeth.

“And the cost will be high, I don't know if we'll all be here to brag about our victory this time tomorrow. Hundreds of millions, perhaps billions of lives rest on our shoulders and if we lose not only do they die but we lose this war. We all know people, too many people, who sacrificed everything to stop the Minbari and I will not let that sacrifice be in vain. Make your peace, contact the people you need to contact, then suit up by sixteen hundred hours.”


That was it. He turned and headed for the door pausing only to call over his shoulder.

“Commander Sinclair, with me please.”

Sinclair did as instructed, slapping Mitchell on the shoulder.

“I'll get them ready.” His wingman promised. “See you on the deck.”

Sinclair sprinted briefly to catch up to the Maori officer and fall into a brisk step beside him.

“How are your people?” Tennant checked. “Ready for a fight?”

“Yes sir, it’s a surprise but they know what to do. They're the best pilots in the galaxy, no one is getting past us.”

“Glad to hear it Commander, our task force is the most experienced unit in the area until Hamato can get his arse back here. We'll be the centre piece of the mobile defence.”

“Do you know what happened sir?”

“The Minbari outmanoeuvred us, simple as that.” Tennant answered. “Hamato and Ferguson are on their way but the Minbari will be here first in strength. Hundreds of ships, likely over a thousand, under the command of their new whizz.”

“Branmer.”

“You know the name? Good, because I'm going to be feeding that bony bastard to the Lady Nemesis.” Tennant snarled. “This is going to be hell Commander, don't imagine otherwise. The Minbari have learned from and adapted to us and now they are ramming those lessons back down our throats.” He grunted. “Well not today.”


They took themselves down a flight of stairs and across into the nearest cobra bay, home to half a dozen squadrons arrayed on the outer curve of the rotating station including the Ghost Riders. It was swarming with deck crews and buzzed to the sound of voices, tools and fuelcells undergoing recharge. Waiting for them were two concerned officers in EA blues who broke off their conversation and saluted Tennant as he arrived.

“Captain Black, Captain Hague.” Tennant greeted them. “Alright, you three are my senior staff on this. Captain Black commands Task Force Ninety One with five Rail gun armed Novas, Captain Hague commands our ten cruisers and Commander Sinclair is senior pilot. Now we've got ten Dreadnoughts, ten Cruisers and three hundred fighters to play with which is pretty damn good, General Lefcourt has also promised us some frigate and corvette escorts from the Mars flotilla some time in the next hour.”

“How many Admiral?” Black asked.

“We'll find out when they arrive, the call is going out for every ship with a weapon to take up position between Earth and Luna and get ready for contact. Armed freighters, Belt Alliance, reservists, hell they even emptied the fleet museum.”

“Is it that serious?” Hague frowned.

“Worse.” Tennant answered honestly. “This is without a doubt the most desperate situation we've ever been in. They caught us with our pants down and we need to pull it together and create a working plan. I've been put in command of our mobile reserve, our job will be to plug breaches in the defence and reinforce weakened areas. If necessary we will counter attack any break through and hold a line over Earth.”

“Which makes us the last line of defence.” Sinclair reasoned.

“If all else fails, yes.”


The officers took a moment to come to terms with this requirement, this simple yet crushing responsibility.

“Do we have enough forces?” Hague asked.

“We've pulled in the entire Proxima, Io and Mars defence fleets plus the Earth and Sol Garrison. It's a lot of ships but most are outdated and better used for patrols.” Tennant relayed. “Our best front line warships were on the border, we only have a limited number of Dreadnoughts and cruisers.”

“Of which we are the best trained.” Black guessed.

“Which is why we hold the critical mission.” Tennant confirmed. “In a situation like this static defence won't help us, we need to be aggressive. Sinclair, I want you to prioritise enemy capital ships, Hague likewise.”

“Yes sir.” Both officers agreed.

“We'll try and stay together, keep the fleet intact as a single hammer to beat the Minbari to death with, but we should expect to take losses.”

“And the other forces?”

“Generals Lefcourt and Denisov will be coordinating the main line of defence. They'll do all they can to tie down and slow the Minbari. The goal isn't to defeat them, it's to delay them. Hell we probably can't kill them alone anyway, we just need to stop their advance.”


“This isn't going to be pretty is it?” Black asked sombrely.

“No. No it isn't.” Tennant said honestly. “But this is what we're here for, this is the moment all of us wondered about, asked if it would ever come, the moment where we have to look death in the face.”

He was right. Each of them had seen battle but in every fight there had been a fair chance of survival. Even against the Dilgar they could take faith in their skills, their fighting prowess and tactical acumen and reasonably expect to still be alive the next day. But this was different, they were out of place, outgunned and facing a truly dangerous adversary.

“I don't expect you not to be afraid, I'm damn well terrified.” Tennant grinned with honesty. “But we have to set an example to our officers and crew, we don't have the luxury of despair. We have to lead and they have to follow us even into certain death. I know each of you has the skill and the courage to be the first into this battle, to set the example. Never have we needed that before and never did I expect to ask you to do it. But here we are.”

He stood straight, projecting confidence and pride.

“Earth needs us, so we're doing this. Do what you need to do in order to meet this challenge head on. Decide how you're going to face death,. Me, I plan to make bad jokes and show him the middle finger.”

His officers broke nervous smiles.

“We are the best. We are the finest force in the Alliance and our world is expecting us to deliver on that confidence. I know we will never let them down. Much rests on our shoulders, but we have the strength to carry the whole planet on our backs. Sinclair, come with me, Helena, Bill, report to your commands. I'll see you out there.”

The two Captains saluted crisply, Tennant responding in kind.

“Let's see how ashamed the Minbari are when they get their arses kicked by a man in a skirt.”



*


“How long do we have?”

“Not long now Madame President. The Minbari have passed Io, they could be here any minute.”

“Our forces?”

“Ships are still coming in but General Denisov believes we have every trained crew in the region. Earth Force and Belt Alliance ships form the main line of defence.”

“And the civilians?”

“They are in position between the naval forces and the defence grid. If we're lucky the military will hold the Minbari back and the civilians won't need to engage.”

“And if we're realistic?”

She didn't need to hear the answer.

“Thank you. By now everyone knows what is happening but I should still say something. They should hear it from me.”

“Madame President...”

“If I'm the President that led Earth to ruin then I should at least take responsibility for it. Leave the camera with me, get down to the bunker. I'll stay here.”

“I strongly advise...”

“That will be all Mike.”

“The Minbari will almost certainly strike our centre of government and...”

“Mike, thank you for your loyalty. The Vice President is on Mars by now, I'll be fine.”

The aide reluctantly left the room and the President by herself. As another President had once believed the buck stopped right here and Elizabeth Levy was ready to face her responsibility. If they won she'd celebrate with the rest of the planet. If they lost she would be among the first to die. Her fate like the fate of so many others now rested with the distant thin grey line in the sky above.



Sinclair took a calming breath as he zeroed in on Catherine, the petite woman tightening her gloves and checking the seals on her flightsuit.

“Catherine...”

“Whatever you're going to say it can wait.” She cut him off. “Don't turn this into one of those soppy goodbyes you get in films. This isn't the first mission into almost certain death we've flown.”

He couldn't stop a smile, he kept forgetting Sakai wasn't some helpless damsel in distress, she could kick ass with the best of them.

“Alright, we'll stick to business then. Your squadron will be flying a strike mission, mine will be providing escort for you.”

“So you'll be watching my back? That actually makes me feel pretty good.”

“We'll keep the Minbari off your case, that's a promise.”

“I trust you.” She nodded. “But we're ready to see the mission through no matter the cost.”

She nodded over to where her squadron was gathering, several of them were tying on woven belts under their suits.

“The whole squadron is either Japanese or descended from Japanese ancestors. I told you about Saburo Sakai?”

“Many times.”

“Some traditions die hard.” She related. “We know what this battle is about, what is expected of us.”

“I don't want to see you bringing back the Kamikaze...”

“We both know if it comes down to it that's exactly what we'll do. You and me both.”

She was right, Sinclair would have no hesitation ramming a Minbari ship if it would make a difference.

“Let's hope it doesn't come to it.”


The lights In the room turned red accompanied by five sharp blasts on the alarm system.

“Time to go.” Sinclair exhaled. “I'll never be more than a hundred metres from you.”

“Worry about the mission, not about me.”

“Escorting you is my mission, you'll be running with nukes.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know.”

“Look, if something does happen...”

“It won't.”

“If it does.” She pressed. “I cut a lock of hair and put it with my things. Its tradition, so that there'll be at least something to bury.”

“Catherine...”

“Just make sure Jen gets it, okay?”

“Okay, I promise.”

“Thank you.” She smiled sombrely. “I'm still scared but this helps, and you being here helps too. Whatever happens Jeff, just try and find me. Don't let me be alone out there.”

“I'll stay close.”

“I don't mind dying for Earth, but I don't want to be alone when it happens.”

“It won't come to it, I promise you.”

“I guess we're going to find out.”



***



Citizens of the Alliance. By now many of you have heard the rumours that a Minbari fleet is approaching Earth. I must tell you these rumours are true. Right now the men and women of Earth Force are gathering our strength to meet and destroy this threat, but our enemy is strong and their fleets are led by a dangerous and skilled Warrior.


Branmer whispered the same words he had all his life, a quiet prayer to Valen for the strength and courage to face the task ahead. Around him his senior staff kept their heads bowed and fingers steepled as he led their prayers too feeling their apprehension, their concern. They were not warriors, this was not the life they had chosen or wanted, yet not one had flinched or folded.

“And Valen said will you follow me into fire, into darkness, into death?”

“I will.” His officers replied solemnly.

“Then follow.”


I therefore make this plea to anyone who has a ship capable of fighting to join us. I ask you, I beg you, to lend your strength to the might we are gathering to defend Earth, our home and our origin, from a Minbari attack. As we speak the full strength of the Alliance is coming to crush this attack but while we have the steel and the fire to win this battle we do not have the time. The Minbari will arrive first.


Between Earth and Luna thousands of men and women waited on massive warships, grimy escorts, nimble fighters and cobbled together shuttles. From the precise formations of the naval vessels down to the unorganised mass of armed freighters the Line was drawn.

They knew what was coming, the terror of a full scale Mibari assault could chill even the finest veterans and heroes but no one backed out or tried to hide. The Line was drawn.


We must ensure that when our reinforcements arrive they see the blue Earth waiting for them, not a burning world ringed by Minbari warships. We must stand firm and unshakeable in the face of our enemies, we must keep them from our doorstep until help arrives. We must do all that we can, sacrifice all we must, to preserve our home until the fleets come to save us.


Deep in hyperspace the Agamemnon pushed its engines as hard as she could, the system already far in the red and complaining. Sheridan sat in the centre of the bridge with his hand gripping the rests, his eyes crushed under a scowl. On the main display were two count downs, one for the Minbari arrival and one for their own. The difference was only a few minutes but in that time the entire planet could change forever.

Around him followed the rest of the fleet and against his own good judgement was Deathwalkers battleship. Nobody liked it but Hamato could not refuse the help of such a powerful vessel in this time of utmost need.

He watched the clock, the diminishing numbers framing his entire existence.



This will be our decisive battle, a turning point for all of us. Never before had humanity faced such a threat, never have we stood so close to the abyss. We must not fall, we must not allow ourselves to be pushed into destruction. This battle is not just for us but for our children and their children, it is for our parents and our ancestors back to the beginning. This day, this hour, we must earn our right to exist and to go on as a species.


Sinclair gave the thumbs up to the deck hand, the suited man scurrying away as the boarding gangway retracted and with a jolt the Fury was lowered through the inner airlock doors to the cobra bay. He made his final checks, the Starfury humming eagerly as power built in its frame. Both pilot and aircraft were straining like hunting dog on the leash, the elixir of battle fighting against the terror and apprehension in his heart.

Everything was in order, his squadron checked in, his systems were synched up to command and control. They were ready, do or die.



I ask you then here and now to gather with the ships above Earth, to draw a line in the sky and let no one who means us harm pass. I will not lie to you, the odds are against us and we believe that many who join this battle will never return, but if we do not fight, if we do not stand on this line, then we lose everything.


The Starfury fell like a stone through the opening doors, the rush of motion and exhiliration of the engines kicking in still an incredible rush. He swung the fighter up and around the station skimming its hull, engines pulsing bright blue flame, the entire scene lit by the reflected light of Earth sitting pristine and glorious beside him. If there was ever any doubt in his mission, ever any lack of conviction the breathtaking sight of Earth banished it instantly.

He swung around, taking a last look at the cradle of humanity over his shoulder before putting it behind him and moving toward the glittering mass of ships ahead. Beside him his squadron tucked into combat formation, each one an expert an an ace in their own right. They were the best, they were going to have to be.


No President has ever made this plea to a people, no nation has ever faced such a threat of destruction, no one should ever have this choice to make, but we have no more time left. Every minute we hold the line brings victory closer and postpones the deaths of countless people. We must not flinch, we must not fail, for if we do then everything we have fought and sacrificed for has been for nothing.


Catherine Sakai stood beside Yumi Hanji and downed the shot of Saki, her wingman then following suit. They raised their empty shot glasses before smashing them on the floor, an acknowledgement they would never return to drink from them again. The squadron stood in a line in the hangar and as one each tied on their headscarfs emblazoned with the rising sun and messages of hope and fortune from home. They gave their salute toward their distant home, recited their death poem, then scrambled to their Starfuries for what was almost certainly the last time to the strains and words of Sakura.


Wherever you were born, wherever you live we are all children of our blue Earth and as sons and daughters of this world I ask you to fight. Fight for our home, fight for the billions of souls upon it, fight to your last breath and your last strength. Fight so that the human race may live, so that we will never be forgotten, so that the blood shed and tears wept were not in vain. Fight for yourselves, your families, for the long dead and the yet to be born. Fight now and take your stand before the coming darkness, defy the onrushing storm and show all who look this way the courage and the spirit of Earth and her children. Stand now, together, and fight for all you have ever known and all you have ever cared about.


Closest to Earth the EAS Nemesis held station, its hull bearing the scars of a dozen major battles with pride, each impact a trophy and a warning. Many vessels had challenged the Nemesis and found themselves under her guns, and none had lived to tell the tale.

Along with her equally gnarled taskforce they were the grim faced and hardened heart of Earth Force. Their ships were ugly and without grace, their technology primitive and inefficient. Yet time and again they had done the impossible, defeated the unbeatable, dragged victory from defeat. They were unlovely to look at but by all the gods they were terrifying to face in war.

Behind the bristling guns the best officers and enlisted humanity had to offer made ready for battle, quiet but confident that they would not fail. Despite the situation none of them could resist a blood thirsty grin as the commnet blared out the most belligerent war haka yet from their Admiral and commander. From the heart of the Lady Nemesis embraced the carnage soon to unfold and dared his enemies to face him in the ancient tongue of his people, roaring and thumping his chest and arms with barely restrained fury filling all who heard it with the same desire for battle.

They banished their fear and armed their weapons as the Line came together.




Whatever fire and lightning the Minbari bring to our homes show them that we are not afraid and that they will not make us cower and hide. Show them that even with our hearts and bodies broken they cannot break our spirit. Fight this battle, hold this line, make this one great sacrifice and tomorrow know that the sun will rise over Earth, and that every man, woman and child who sees it will know what price was paid for that moment.


Below the fleets the mass of humanity sought shelter where it could, underground, out of cities, far from any likely targets. Those that could not flee gave themselves instead to hope, they gathered those they held dear as the air raid sirens mourned and aerospace jets howled overhead leaving white cuts in the sky.

In mountain ranges, open plains and the ocean missile silos popped open in readiness for the first time in decades. Long barrelled railguns raised themselves up like petrified silver trees and ancient ocean going warships prepared their missile batteries to intercept falling debris and warheads from orbit.


This is our greatest challenge, our defining moment. This is where we nobly rise or meanly fall toward our fate. It is in our hands to decide the destiny of the human race, and I ask you to stand and to fight so that this moment will not be an end, but a beginning. One great battle to hold the line against the night so our children may see another dawn. The hope of the human race stands behind you and its ruin in front of you. Hold this line for each and every one of you represents our last, best hope for a future.

 

[Spartan303]

Holy Moly. That was amazing...

 

[Flintsteel]

Geez. Somehow, you managed to not only kick canon in the teeth, but still managed to give a Battle of the Line (early, even!) that is plausible even with the radically changed conditions.

But it seems to have come way to early, given just how long The Dilgar War ran for. Which is making me start to think 'A Fighting Chance' is not referring to the Earth-Mimbari War... but the Shadow War. Because dear old Deathwalker appears to be building an alliance that might actually be capable of saying "FUCK YOU!" to even the First Ones...

 

[Culsu]

I'm not sure how much you are rewriting this, but we all know that if the Minbari manage orbital strikes with casualties in the millions all the safeties are off...

 

[Trace Coburn]

And if that ends with an EA fleet sitting in Minbar’s orbit dictating terms to the Grey Council? That’s just fine by me.
God, Minbari petulance over the canon war always got right up my nose. “Waaaahhh, that dirty Starkiller Sheridan cheated, he hit us back!” 🤬

 

[Harlock]

Next update is about 19k words, hopefully done by the weekend

 

[Culsu]

Uff, 19k words to read here, the next TLA update also due over the weekend. I see the internet has already scheduled my weekend for me. 😂

 

[mwkillkenny84]

Next update is about 19k words, hopefully done by the weekend

Binge read the thread (and binde re-read the fanfiction dot net version, I hope to see it too updated in the future), this mean that the next chapter will be completely new content for me!

 

[Deleted member 1]

I am not sure Harlock will update FFN anymore, he made it clear it’s a terrible pest, and, well, it really is a terrible pest.

 

[mwkillkenny84]

I am not sure Harlock will update FFN anymore, he made it clear it’s a terrible pest, and, well, it really is a terrible pest.

KK: *looking at all the works-to-be that have never been posted on FF dot net, only SB* I concede the point.

 

[Harlock]

15


Earth


Battle of the Line


EAS Nemesis




“Early warning beacons are silent, probably destroyed.” Captain Anderson reported with all due foreboding. “Which means the Minbari are minutes away.”

“Good, I hate long waits.” Admiral Tennant returned blithely. “Everything switched on and angry?”

“All systems armed, all stations closed up for action, all escorts and fighters holding station awaiting orders.” Anderson confirmed. “Central Command has granted us freedom to engage at our discretion.”

“That's nice of them. When it kicks off move us toward the main body of the enemy. We won't engage unless the Line breaks but once it does I want to be waist deep in dead bodies within thirty seconds. And for the record, that would be dead Minbari bodies.”

“You think the Line will break sir?” Anderson felt suddenly concerned. “That's a lot of ships, it's got to take time to shoot them all down.”

“This fella Branmer is pretty sharp, one of the best in the business. I mean he got this far, you gotta respect that.”

“I suppose so sir.”

“This is exactly the sort of delicacy Lady Nemesis hungers for. She's not really that picky when it comes to victims but you know she has a special place in her heart for murdering famous people.”

“If you say so sir.”

“He's going to break through, he's too good to be stopped by a standard battle line. When he does he becomes our problem, and you know how we solve problems on this ship Captain.”

“With anger and violence?”

“I'm proud of you captain, it took this long but finally you get it.”

“Yes sir, I am thrilled.”

“Let's move the fleet, loose formation until we can predict an intercept.” Tennant ordered. “Steady as she goes Captain, we have a long day ahead.”



The Earth Force fleet was divided into three main groups arranged between Earth and the Moon facing outward. They knew roughly from which direction the Minbari were travelling from and deployed to meet them though there was always a chance it could be a bluff.

At the front was the main strength of the fleet under General Denisov. A powerful force built around the Mars and Proximan defence fleets that had been recalled for this operation and held a respectable number of Dreadnoughts and heavy cruisers in their ranks. Supporting them was the Sol garrison consisting of mainly older and lighter ships that would act to back up the heavier combatants. These were professional soldiers and while not as experienced or seasoned as the front line units they were confident and deadly, their carefully arrayed formations and steady ranks clear evidence of this.

The second element was built around civilian ships and this was the most numerous component of the defence, but also the least effective. The President had asked for any ship able to fight and this was where they reported, mostly armed shuttles, freighters and survey ships. Individually they were weak but in such vast numbers it was hoped they might do something to slow down the Minbari. Among them were the Belt Alliance, their dedicated convoy escorts and fighters better armed and more professional than the average private military company but still lacking compared to the navy. Dotted among them were a few warships that were rushed incomplete from shipyards and crewed by their dock workers and volunteers.


Behind the cloud of civilian ships was the reserve commanded by Tennant. Here were gathered the combat veterans who had been on leave or undergoing refit when the attack was detected alongside the bulk of Earth's fighter squadrons. They were the smallest of the three groups but arguably the most destructive with a solid core of battle hardened dreadnoughts and heavy cruisers backed by elite Starfury squadrons. In addition they had also gathered any veteran ships from among the local forces to support them in the final defence of Earth. If the front two forces were broken Tennant was the last real hope for holding back the Minbari until help arrived.

”Admiral, Tachyon spike on long range sensors.” Anderson offered up quickly. “Probable jump point.”

“Friendly?”

“Unlikely.”

“So much for a little optimism.” Tennant exhaled. “Alert all commands, we hold position until called upon.”



*


A pair of Minbari survey ships exited hyperspace at high speed and turned sharply, the weakly armed vessels keeping their distance from the waves of grey steel over Earth. They were not combat ships, rather their job was to sweep the region for traps, identify the Earth Force locations and allow the Minbari fleet to plot accurate jump coordinates.

Almost instantly the survey ships were scanned by a Starfury patrol, the heavy fighters vectoring in but far too slowly. Their task was over in less than a minute.


“Data confirmed, projecting human defensive locations.”

Branmer viewed the glowing icons hovering in thin air, different symbols for different units filling up as the survey ships did their job.

“No minefields.” He observed. “Plenty of ships and satellites though.”

“They never expected to be fighting on their doorstep.” Neroon's disembodied voice opined from his adjacent flagship. “We've lost the element of surprise Shai Alyt, the humans will have seen our scouts.”

“Surprise doesn't help us here, not against a defence in depth.” Branmer shook his head. “We'll have to do this the Warrior's way, face to face.”

“We stand ready.”

“Jump into these coordinates.” Branmer transmitted. “Earth's moon is heavily defended, we'll try and avoid it. Follow my lead Neroon and obey my orders precisely, even if they seem contradictory.”

“To the death Shai Alyt.”

“It may be.” Branmer said plainly, his eyes skimming the EA defences. “The Star Riders were the cavalry of ancient Minbar, swift and irresistible in the charge, unflinching when driving home an attack and piercing the static lines of our enemies. Today we revisit the old ways my friend. Form on my forces and prepare to charge.”



*


“Deploy fighter screens forward.” General Denisov ordered. “They wouldn't show their cards unless they were ready to begin. Expect contact any second.”

It had been a long while since the old Chairman of the Joint Chiefs had sat in the command chair of a Dreadnought yet it felt as if he belonged nowhere else. He oversaw the deployment with approval, fighter squadrons shifting on the glass screen projectors, his staff officers expertly offering reports and confirmations.

“Any idea where they'll jump sir?”

“Could be at range, could be right on top of us.”

As if in answer to his question the first wave of jump points began to tear open right then, the coruscating maws flickering as blue and purple marbled warships glided into the darkness of real space well ahead of the fleet.

“Confirm hostiles, hundred plus.”

“There will be more.” Denisov reasoned. “Range?”

“Hundred thousand klicks and closing fast.”

“Adjust position, redress the battle line and standby salvo fire.”


On his word the front line of the EA fleet pivoted to meet the incoming warships, the Dreadnoughts and cruisers burning thrusters briefly in jets of blue and red, their ranks of gun turrets silently rotating and elevating. Behind them the other components of the EA fleet held position and waited, for now only the warships of the front line would engage.

“Weapons online, target range and bearing locked.”

“Standby to engage.” Denisov ordered. “Watch for the second wave. Commence firing.”

The EA group made their initial ranging shots, several rounds from each vessel to calibrate their sensors and bring all systems into alignment. At maximum range most shots missed, those that hit causing negligible damage after diffusion.

“Enemy approaching optimum firing range, General, tachyon spikes!”

“Where?”

“Directly above!”

“I knew this was too easy.” Denisov grimaced, accepting the challenge. “Even numbered ships continue to engage, odd numbered ships roll ninety degrees and fire as targets appear.”


Denisov was an old soldier and no fool, his caution proving justified as a sea of jump points began boiling open above his formation. Hundreds of Minbari warships poured out in battle formation, rank after rank with weapons armed and rapidly locking on targets.

Earth force rose to meet the challenge, sharply adjusting formation in a display of precision manoeuvring few fleets could match on such a scale. The lumbering warships rolled and pivoted, massive cannons swinging to seek new targets as the second wave of Minbari entered the field at much closer range. The first few Minbari ships emerged into rapidly targeted gunfire, plasma shots smacking into their hulls in flashes of blue and orange. The Minbari responded in kind, engaging before they had fully left the bounds of hyperspace using targeting data transmitted by their sisters in the first wave.



“Hold course and speed.” Branmer intoned calmly, his voice and demeanour a reassuring rock of certainty to his still relatively green command staff. The human firepower heading his way had diminished considerably as Neroon made his entrance, the human commander splitting his fire to prevent his upper flank being annihilated.

“Shai Alyt, this is Neroon, all ships engaging.”

“So I see, resistance?”

“Expected. We have them in a crossfire, shall I order all units to hold and commence barrage?”

“No, proceed with the plan.” Branmer reminded. “We need to keep the initiative, if we slow down or stop we're finished. Don't be fooled by the human Admiral, he isn't going on the defensive, he's just conserving his strength for a counter attack.”

“As you order Shai Alyt.”

“This will take very careful timing, hold your nerve my student, it's time to demonstrate how Star Riders make war.”



Denisov's centre was caught in a vice, a terrible position with gunfire sweeping in from ahead and above converging on his battleline. In any naval engagement it would be seen as a clear cut disaster, outflanked, out manoeuvred and subjected to a punishing barrage. His forces had tightened their formation to protect each other, rays of light and balls of plasma lashing out from the battered fleet, the burning hulls of comrades mounting at the edges.

The Minbari were still advancing, closing the range and adding pressure, the green beams melting through even the heaviest armour like wax. The circumstances greatly favoured the enemy, but Denisov held his nerve, he didn't panic or order a retreat. After all, where was there to go?


As the world thundered about his head, as reports of lost ships and beleaguered crews were yelled across the command deck General Denisov simply smiled a cold Ukrainian grin.

“He's shown his hand.”

He observed the Minbari formations, appreciating the planning and control it represented, but focusing mainly on the numbers.

“That's every ship in his fleet, no reserves, he's fully committed. This is it, kill these ships and we kill Minbar.”

“Sir, we're taking heavy damage!”

“Not for long.” Denisov grunted. “He's hitting our central battleline, focusing all his strength here, our flanks are untouched.”

The display confirmed his assessment, the Minbari we're massed to deliver a heavy strike to the best of the EA ships but ignoring the cruisers and frigates on the edges of the force. Granted those ships were inferior to the Dreadnoughts but they could still pack a punch and we're perfectly positioned to respond.

“The Minbari want to set up a crossfire? We'll show them a crossfire. Flanking fleets, redeploy and converge. Draw them in and engage the Minbari with all deliberate force.”

“What about our reserves sir?”

“Not yet, hold them back, just in case this Branmer is smarter than I'm giving him credit for.”




Earth Force began its response, the mechanisms of command whirring into action. Whatever shock the Minbari assault had delivered was crushed beneath the grinding gears of mankind's well drilled war machine. Orders were given, engines engaged, formations flowing like liquid into new shapes before solidifying into attack formations.

The Dreadnought line was taking a beating, but that is what they were there for. They held fast, absorbed the Minbari attack, lost many of their number but did not break. The EA cruiser squadrons were slow to move compared to the Minbari but were inexorable, rising to surround the concentrated Minbari battle groups and return the Minbari strategy with interest.

Long range fire began to strike the Minbari flanks as the initial units entered range, with all Minbari ships accounted for there was no need to hold a line any more, they just needed to kill the threat as efficiently as possible.



“Ahh, very good.” Branmer nodded. “I knew the humans would not disappoint, they are counter attacking. Less than a minute to analyse, adapt and implement a counter. Let's see Sineval match that!”

“We're beginning to take fire on the flanks, estimate one minute until the human support fleets can engage us fully.” Neroon warned.

“This is why we can't fight them the old way, the humans expect a battle of annihilation, two forces massed for the struggle. They know it is how we fight, they see our formation and react in that expectation. We will therefore do no such thing.”

“Our course and speed is steady Shai Alyt.”

“Then begin.”


Despite losing their stealth the Minbari fleet still held many advantages, one of which was speed. On Branmer's signal both Minbari formations accelerated, slightly altering their positions as they did so, opening gaps and lanes within their ranks.

“General, enemy forces holding course and increasing speed.”

Denisov observed with a frown.

“Now what's he up to?”

“They're on a collision course, both formations!”

“No, that makes no sense.” Denisov leaned forward, scrutinizing the display. “He didn't go to all this trouble to kamikaze us.”

“Impact in thirty seconds! Shall I order evasive action?”

It made no sense, Branmer was an artist of strategy, he wasn't going to throw away the last of the Minbari fleet on a suicide run.

“General?”

“Hold position.” He ordered firmly. “Maintain fire.”

“Aye sir.”

His staff buried their doubts and obeyed their orders, standing firm and unflinching before the onrush of Minbari ships from ahead and above.

Denisov quietly observed that this was the grandest game of chicken anyone could ever have claimed to play, one way or another he was going to go down in history.



Branmer was both warrior and priest and his life before the death of his friend and ally Dukhat had been one of history, pouring over ancient texts and tomes. Many of those had contained knowledge of ancient military strategies and tactics which most warriors dismissed as obsolete. What use were mounted cavalry tactics in an age of neutron cannons and antimatter beams?

Branmer disagreed. In his studies he had discovered what had once been the signature tactic of the Star Riders, the Weaving Waves. In battle it required two formations of cavalry to charge on a converging path at full speed and through perfect timing and positioning pass through each others formation without slowing down. It had been used to outmanoeuvre enemies in countless battles and proved almost impossible for the other clans to copy, the Weaving Waves had been the pride of the ancient Star Rider knights and Branmer would make it so again.


The two groups of Minbari ships hurtled at one another with Denisov in the middle, his gunners throwing every ounce of power into the weapons, melting their guns as they emptied the capacitors into the alien fleet. The relatively small battle space was filled with drifting debris, expanding gas and viciously fighting battleships. The hazards were many but unlike the knights of old Branmer could call upon computerised flight controls and advanced plotting subroutines.

At the final instant they made a few minor corrections and converged from both directions on Denisov's fleet sweeping through the formation at full speed, crossing between the dreadnoughts and each other in a flash of blue and purple hulls tinged with gunfire.

Both sides took damage, but neither had the chance to put sustained close range fire on to their opponents. The Earth Dreadnoughts were left standing still as the Minbari weaved their way through them and into open space, Neroon below and Branmer now behind the battered grey formation.



“Adjust position!” Denisov snapped, not having time to feel relief that he had been right about Branmer's lack of suicidal intent. “Cruiser formation, recalculate interception course. Helm, bring us about and get us moving!”

“Plotting pursuit course.”

He had to admire the sheer nerve of his opponent, not even the Dilgar had charged a Dreadnought gunline, let alone from two directions at flank speed. Branmer was good, he knew the strengths of his fleet and had played them expertly, but it wasn't going to save him.

“All ships responding, coming about.”

“That head start won't help him much. Continue firing, warn the second line to expect inbound hostiles.” Denisov ordered. “They just need to bog him down long enough for us to catch up and finish the job.”



“Earth ships redeploying astern.”

Branmer nodded in acknowledgement.

“Deploy second division to form a barrier, we will take our place with them.”

“At once.”

“First division will move ahead and clear a path to Earth, bombardment ships will follow close behind. Launch all fighters and deploy them forward.” The Shai Alyt ordered with complete focus, reshuffling his deck for the next round of the contest. “Swiftly.”

Branmer's command rearranged itself for the final time, assuming the formation it would hold until final victory or defeat presented itself. He sent his best crews forward ahead, driving an arrowhead towards Earth designed to pierce the remaining defences and escort the most valuable element of the mission, the thirty ships of the bombardment force. They were slightly older model ships armed with antimatter beam cannons, inferior to more modern cruisers in ship to ship combat but far superior when striking ground targets.

The other element of his force would provide a rear guard and engage in a fighting retreat to hold back General Denisov's pursuit and keep them away from the bombardment ships. The rear guard were his newer and less capable crews in older ships, their role was to delay the human pursuit by sacrificing their own lives. They simply didn't have the numbers or talent to best Earth's professional fleet and few were expected to survive.

Branmer and a small core of his best ships stood with them to act as a mobile reserve and to strengthen their resolve. They knew what their chances of survival were but to see their leader stand with them gave them the fortitude to stare death in the face without blinking.


“Shai Alyt, Neroon is signalling.”

“Well done my student.” Branmer opened the channel. “Are you in position?”

“We are clear of the main Earth fleet, they have left a screen to face us but seem to be moving their main strength against you.”

“As expected, we threaten Earth, they will not hesitate to throw everything at us.”

“We can assist you, attack them from the rear and draw them away...”

“Unnecessary, the rear guard will suffice to delay them. Hold your position Neroon, Earth fleet reinforcements are due any moment.”

“Shai Alyt, at least move your command ship to the bombardment fleet, if you stay with the rear guard you risk almost certain death.”

“If the rear guard fails this battle is over, the war is lost. It is the critical part of this plan and I must see to it personally, as you must see to your task.” Branmer said flatly. “Hold that position, keep the humans divided, it is our only chance.”

“As you order Shai Alyt.”

“This is the decisive moment for our people, the most important battle since the era of Valen and with consequences just as dire. Against that we are all expendable. Hold them Neroon.”

“In Valen's name.”

“In Valen's name.”


*


“Someone calling for me?”

Jeffrey Sinclair tapped the communication controls on his instrument panel. “Say again?”

“Commander Sinclair, enemy forces have broken through the front line. Move your squadrons forward and engage Minbari units immediately.”

“Understood.” Sinclair exhaled, his heart rate climbing. “All squad leaders, did you hear that.”

“Affirmative.”

“I thought the main fleet was supposed to hold for twenty minutes?” Commander Shiro of the Rising Suns brought up. “How long did they manage?”

“Four.” Sinclair checked. “The Minbari went through them in four minutes.”

There was a deafening silence on the other end of the line. Everyone knew this battle was a fight for time, a delaying action, every minute was worth a hundred ships. For the Minbari to carve through them so quickly was a grievous event. Far ahead they could see the glow of yellow and red lights, each light the molten burning hull of an ally.

“Doesn’t matter, we knew this was going to be hell.” Sinclair snarled trying to draw his pilots away from their grim thoughts. “This was never going to be easy, this is their last chance to win and our last chance to lose, they're not going to be pulling punches and neither will we! Ghosts, Raptors, form up and accelerate to combat speed. Suns, stay behind us, we'll clear a path and support you on your attack run.”

“Assuming position.”

“Taking point.”

“No heroics, stick to the mission, stay alert and don't let your guard down for a second. We can do this, we will do this.”

Sinclair forced himself to believe, forced himself to find faith, hoped through sheer force of will he could achieve the impossible and bring his people with him.

“Afterburners on my mark... mark!”



The second line of the Earth Force defence now moved into action swarming forward with purpose if not particular grace or skill. Mixed among the armed civilians were thousands of Starfuries, mostly modern Aurora class birds but with a significant number of older Nova and Tiger Furies drawn from the reservist formations. Many carried nukes but most were armed with plasma warheads which would be of questionable utility against Minbari armour.

Sinclair's air wing of three squadrons moved to join the rest of the group, thousands of blue specks showing the burning engines of the strike groups forming into attack waves. They quickly caught up to the rear ranks of Earth's second line of defence, passing through the freighters and shuttles with hard expressions worn on their faces. In every direction there were ships, space was choked with them, grey, white and blue hulls awkwardly moving toward the deadliest warmachines in the galaxy. Lambs to the slaughter.

Sinclair's people had seen plenty of combat, they knew what Minbari did to their enemies, how quickly the finest and most powerful ships in the Navy had been reduced to formless tangles of metal, the great flying fortresses that had subdued the Dilgar and freed the League barely able even with upgrades to hold on without numerical superiority. These civilian ships, men and women with no true idea what waited for them were nothing but a distraction, just something to cloud Minbari scanners and distract their gunners while the strike fighters made the real attacks.

The thousands of lives around them were a sacrifice and nothing else, and the most sobering part of that reality was that they knew it and still moved up to engage the Minbari in almost certainly the final act of their lives.

No complaints, no hesitation, not a single ship fell back, broke formation or tried to run. Sinclair had no words to describe it, he simply swore silently he would make their sacrifice mean something.



“Belt Squadron Eight, Minbari entering our defence perimeter.”

“This is General Lefcourt, all units fire at will. Escort wings consolidate on Belt Alliance units.”

“IPX Contingent moving forward.”

“Logistics group advancing.”

“Earth Force Museum squadron deploying to attack.”

Sinclair saw the initial volleys in the distance as he advanced, a barrage of pulse cannon and plasma fire that was a poor imitation of the Dreadnought line the Minbari had just smashed through. If the shots did damage he couldn't tell, all he saw was the Minbari response.

The sky turned white as every ship for dozens of miles in every direction evaporated, the Minbari sweeping them aside with barely a pause. More Earth ships piled into the melee, closing as fast as their low grade engines would take them. Most never even made it into firing range.

“Belt Four requesting immediate assistance, any unit in range respond!”

“Black Solutions Fleet destroyed, all remaining PMC flotillas form on the Belt Alliance.”

“Survey Ships taking fire on three sides! We can't...”

“All ships keep attacking, they can't stop all of us!”

Sinclair knew the Minbari could and likely would, but it didn't matter, the civilians were doing their job, playing their part so he could play his.

“All fighters accelerate to attack speed, arm nuclear warheads and prepare for your torpedo run.”



*


“Flash traffic indicates the Minbari fleet is already at Earth and the defences are under heavy attack.”

Admiral Ferguson clenched his teeth, his jaw twinging as he tried to imagine the brutal spectacle unfolding. The reports and desperate calls over sporadic communication channels feeding a steady anger and frustration.

“How long to Earth?”

“Four minutes.” His XO reported.

It was going to be terribly close. Ferguson had crossed almost half way across EA space to get back in time for this battle, pulling every available ship that could make the journey, prioritising his heaviest units, fighting hyperspace itself to make this appointment. The fact the battle had already begun angered him, but by the sounds of it he wasn't too late to ensure victory.

“Can we contact Earth?”

“Negative, all direct frequencies are being jammed. We have a partial sensor feed from one of the Luna warning stations.”

“Status of the defences?”

“It looks like the Minbari have broken through the fleet and are cutting down anything in their path. They could be at Earth any moment.”

“Open a channel to Admiral Hamato.” He ordered. “Akira, are you seeing this?”


“I'm seeing it.” The elder officer replied from his own distant flagship deeper in hyperspace. “We're fifteen minutes out, we won't make it in time.”

“We will.” Ferguson resolved. “We'll jump as soon as we're in range, hit the Minbari hard from behind and trap them between the defence grid and our fleets.”

“Denisov still seems to have a lot of ships in the fight, he just needs the pressure taking off long enough for him to regroup.”

“So I see.” Ferguson nodded. “If I can force them on the defensive Denisov can regroup and counter attack. Between the two of us we'll have the firepower to end this.”

“I'm going to jump in on the far flank, if you can slow them down until I arrive we'll have the Minbari trapped between three fleets. Yours, mine, and Denisov's.”

“I don't care how good this Branmer is, no one can get out of a trap like that.”

“Agreed.” Hamato nodded. “Relieve General Denisov, force the Minbari away from Earth, and then we'll surround and destroy them with superior numbers and firepower.”

“We'll be there in two minutes, I'm already set up in jump formation.” Ferguson reported. “They've probably seen us coming, I'm expecting a warm welcome.”

“Don't over extend, wait until I bring the rest of the fleet in.”

“Understood, we'll focus on relieving the pressure on the defence and coordinate a final push when you arrive.”

“Good hunting Admiral.” Hamato wished. “Save some for the rest of us.”



*



“The relief force.”

Neroon narrowed his eyes as he scrutinised the holographic display hanging around him. It was an intimidating sight, hundreds of human heavy warships bearing down in hyperspace ready to drop a hammer blow on his forces. He couldn't stop them and while his fleet was formidable he wasn't going to win a battle of attrition against that many Earth Force capital ships.

He checked the scene behind him, Branmer was fighting a fierce rearguard against General Denisov, neither were in a position to help one side or the other. The spearhead was still driving for Earth casually obliterating the human auxiliary ships desperately trying to swamp them. Neroon was by himself as expected about to take on the best of Earth Force.

He was going to die, he and his entire fleet, and he had known that from the moment this operation was announced. Like a true warrior, a real warrior, he accepted his death and did not cringe or cower, all that remained was to ensure his end had honour and his orders were fulfilled.

“Alyt, all units are in position, we have formed a defensive line and are prepared for barrage fire.”


“Have you ever heard the phrase that the best defence is offence?” Neroon remarked absently, gaze still on the incoming fleet. “The humans seem to live by it, even when they have a strong defensive position they will always attack, even here.”

“I have not heard that before Alyt.”

“Something the Shai Alyt remarked upon.” Neroon smiled despite himself. A lightness took over, his grim expression softening as he saw his future laid out before him and knew what had to be done. He couldn't cheat death but he could still give it a surprise or two.

“We will attack.”

“As you order.”

“We are outnumbered and outgunned, but the humans will arrive in travel formation, they will need a few moments to consolidate their fleet into a battle line. We will attack them before they can do this. We will dive into their ranks, get amongst their force and deny them the advantage of numbers.”

“With respect human ships are designed for close range brawls, we will be giving them exactly what they want.”

“They will be expecting a long range battle, expecting us to fight as we always fight. But not today, we are Star Riders, our ancestors charged into battle with lance and sword, this is how we too shall fight.”

“Yes sir.” His second in command raised his chin slightly, stirring his pride. “Orders sent.”

“We will not survive, but we will finish our mission.” Neroon grinned. “Computer, search the archives, find me a warriors hymn and broadcast to the fleet. Let us die as well as we lived.”



The jump points opened near Luna echoing the arrival of the Minbari, but in this instance they deposited Admiral Ferguson's weary but determined battle fleet. They were already deploying fighters and gathering data, their sensor systems active and targeting computers selecting targets.

The Minbari were waiting for them, ready for them. As soon as the points opened Neroon ordered the advance, his untested warriors and brand new ships accelerating still far beyond any human ship. With blood rushing through their veins and war songs in their ears they rushed Ferguson's fleet catching them by surprise and out of position. The two juggernauts found themselves face to face, blue crystal and grey metal, this time though the Minbari had seized the advantage. Neroon's forces held their fire until the last moment to ensure the first volley would be devastating, only opening fire as the jump points closed and the EA fleet had nowhere to go.


“Evasive starboard!” Ferguson snapped quickly seeing Neroon's plan. “All batteries, all ships, fire at will!”

Both sides fired almost simultaneously at ridiculously close range, a handful of miles, close enough so that it was impossible to miss and energy diffusion was irrelevant. The lead elements of both groups dissolved in heat and light, warcruisers and dreadnoughts melted away at point blank range. Fighters turned hard to clear the firing lanes as Minbari and human ships unloaded ferocious broadsides into each other as they passed by.

In the space of seconds everything turned into a firestorm of gunfire, molten debris and warships breaking apart. Warcruisers and frigates sliced through their human counterparts with negligible effort leaving molten edged gashes in the thickest of armour. In turn Earth Force hammered the passing vessels with a storm of gunfire, literally blasting the Minbari vessels into superheated fragments.

Nothing was held back, the commanders and crews of both sides throwing aside thoughts or self preservation, their focus only on destroying those in their gunsights. The entire war was condensed down to this small patch of space near the Moon, all the anger, the hatred, the simple desperation, everything was poured into the fray.


“They're in our formation, Minbari ships everywhere!”

“Calm the hell down!” Ferguson snapped. “Forget the battle line, consolidate by task force!”

Ferguson swiftly altered his plan, adjusting his tactics on the fly. He had expected a fleet to fleet battle, two large forces arrayed against each other, but if the Minbari wanted to turn it into a melee he was fine with that. He knew his crews, knew their training, whether fighting as one unit or as individual ships they were simply better than their enemies.

“Tighten up our escorts and set up interlocking fields of fire.”

Instead of one mass of ships Ferguson's fleet split up, grouping together into dozens of small task forces, knots of warships like small forts the Minbari would flow around. Each group would support its neighbours setting up a crossfire the Minbari would have to pass through to attack gradually wearing them down.

“This is going to delay us.” Ferguson grimaced. “Best speed toward Earth, but keep us in formation.”



*



“Coming up on their fighter screen.” Mitchell warned. “Hostiles on scope. Six hundred plus.”

“We'll break through and run interference, don't get bogged down, stay with the Strike package.” Sinclair ordered. “This is it Alpha Wing, burn them down.”

He opened the throttles wide and muttered a quick prayer. Sinclair wasn't the galaxy's most religious man but any help he could get was going to be welcome. He felt the engines kick in, the familiar pull of the G-forces, the hum of the reactors as everything tuned itself up, a melody of capacitors and regulators. His guns were ready, targeting systems functional, ahead he could see clearly the Minbari capital ships and the glimmers of light reflecting from the hulls and canopies of Minbari fighters vectoring in.

To the left and right the sky burned, the second line of defence fought and died bravely but it wasn't slowing the Minbari down nearly as much as expected. Now it was down to Earth's fighters, the legendary Starfuries that had surprised the galaxy a generation ago and performed miracles against the Dilgar warmachine. Today would be the ultimate test of their design and reputation.


“Contact!” Mitchell yelled. “Break, break, break!”

In a heartbeat the formation dissolved as each veteran pilot took evasive action, getting some distance and executing a series of tight turns designed to both throw off pursuit and put the fighter in a position to counter attack. Green beams swept past finding nothing, the Minbari craft racing past in a flash of blue crystal and accelerating hard away.

“Ignore them, do not pursue!” Sinclair ordered. “Stay on course, we can't catch up to them anyway.”

He was right, the Minbari fighters still greatly outpaced Furies and whoever was coordinating the defence knew that. The Minbari fighters were making high speed passes, zoom and boom as the older pilots called it, simply slashing through the EA formations and looping back around for further attacks. Sometimes they ran into a wall of gunfire, sometimes they missed, sometimes they cut down any Fury to slow to react.

It was a good tactic that played to their strengths, but it wasn't stopping Earth Force and if they wanted to protect their warships the Minbari pilots were going to have to start fighting on human terms.


“Coming up on the enemy perimeter.” Shiro noted.

“Ghost Squadron, follow me in.” Sinclair ordered. “Raptors stay close to the Suns, execute.”

Now the real fight began. Sinclair's squadron loosened up as it passed into effective range of the Minbari spearhead, escort frigates immediately lighting them up with active sensors.

“Launch your decoys and prepare a close pass, weapons and sensors only.” He barked. “Don't go for the kill, one pass only.”

The closest frigate turned to meet them, an elderly design not much larger than an Olympus class. It opened up with pulse weapons rather than the expected beams tracing the sky with white bolts of light. The Starfuries jinked and twisted randomly, the novice Minbari gunners having a hard time keeping them in their sights. Sinclair wasn't carrying anything powerful enough to kill this ship and it wasn't worth his colleagues wasting a nuke on. Instead he swung in as close as he dared and sprayed gunfire into its weapon emplacements,snapping the long projections and shuddering the vessel as it was wracked by secondary explosions.

Around him the rest of his unit did the same, an artistic display of precision flying that stripped the frigate of weapons and sensors leaving it blind and toothless, no longer a threat to the defences and easy pickings for a passing warship.


“We've got an opening, line up on a capital ship.”

The three squadrons regrouped and burned past the broken frigate, ahead of them the main body of the Minbari attack group itself still slicing through the massed freighters and auxiliaries.

“We have a target, Sharlin cruiser.” Shiro announced. “Beginning attack run.”

The twelve birds of the Rising suns squadron accelerated, Catherine Sakai among them, and formed into three waves of four craft. Despite packing nukes it was probably going to take more than one hit to bring down something as massive and well defended as a Sharlin, if it could be done at all.

“Enemy fighter screen ahead.” Sinclair noted. “Break and attack.”

Sinclair turned his people loose, the grey fighters splitting and accelerating, timing and pacing their approach for maximum impact. Sinclair himself took the lead, Mitchell close on his six scanning for threats and playing the wingman role of defending his leader. The Minbari fighters saw them and came in to intercept, standard formation, standard attack deployment.

This was going to be a slaughter.


He waited until the optimal moment, then with a nudge of the controls spiralled to the left throwing off the Minbari targeting systems. He made two more brief twists and dropped into weapons range while the Minbari were still reacting and trying to lock the incoming human craft.

Sinclair didn't bother with a cannon lock, not at this range against these clearly novice pilots. He fired over open gunsights and brought down two fighters within moments of each other, pirouetting swiftly to land a passing shot on a third as he swept past.

Around him his squadron moved with similar efficiency and blasted through the enemy squadron and clearing a route for the others. More Minbari were changing course and heading their way suddenly aware of the impending danger.


“Stay frosty, we have our breach, just hold another couple of minutes.”

More and more squadrons were piling into the fight on both sides, the intensity of combat increasing exponentially as the two juggernauts collided. The sheer scale was beyond anything Sinclair had seen, rivalling the old documentaries about the great battles of the Dilgar War.

Beneath them the Rising Suns pushed forward, the Minbari cruiser finally noticing the inbound threat.

“Raptor Squadron, moving to cover.”

With no further comment the second element of his airwing altered course and raced ahead of the strike craft, weaving past a few hollowed out Minbari fighters and engaging their full ECM and countermeasure package. It worked to an extent, the first few shots from the Minbari cruiser missed, but every subsequent salvo drew nearer and nearer the Earth fighters.

“Peel off starboard, all yours Suns.”


Catherine Sakai tried to hold the fighter steady, well aware that the nervous shaking of her hands was causing the Fury to shudder. On her wing Yumi Hanji kept formation, both planes carrying a quartet of nuclear tipped torpedoes on their upper wing struts. She watched the escorts peel away drawing a limited amount of fire before they vanished into the blackness. All the flashes of gunfire, explosions, duelling fighters, all of it melted away until all that was left was the Minbari cruiser and her gunsights.

They had timed it so the cruiser had only seconds to see the threat and react, all the distraction and misdirection focused on giving the strike squadron as much surprise as open space allowed. They had to act instantly, every second lost was an extra second for the cruiser to train its guns and open fire.

Sakai ran through the sequence on automatic, arming the weapon, releasing safeties, setting the computer to attain lock. She checked her position, glancing upward just in time to see the Minbari cruiser open fire.


In the space of a heartbeat everything went to hell, the first four fighters vanished as a single beam destroyed all of them one after the other. Sakai jinked hard to avoid the debris and burning gas that had been her comrades, the rest of the survivors doing the same.

“Hold course!” Shiro demanded. “Fire when ready!”

Two more Furies exploded beside Sakai, she suppressed a scream, held her nerve and surrendered to training. She didn't think about the Minbari, about the bright fusion beams just metres from her sweeping the sky, she just waited for the electronic tone telling her she could fire. It took a lifetime.

Finally the nukes dropped from her wings, floating beside her for an instant as the rockets engaged, and then streaked for the cruiser. She at once turned aside and went to emergency thrust, the cruiser by now having bigger problems to worry about than her. Most of the weapons were destroyed but several made it detonating in a brief blinding flash gouging thousands of tons of material from the Minbari warship.

The enemy vessel rolled lazily, most of its flank shredded and gushing flame as the decks vented atmosphere. Within ten seconds the ship was dead in space, another relic of the war.


“All squadrons reform.” Sinclair ordered. “Target destroyed, good work.”

He hid his relief that Catherine was alive, he couldn't put his personal feelings ahead of completing this mission, not with Earth at stake.

“We've expended all our heavy weapons.” Shiro reported. “And we're down to four Furies.”

“Raptors are down to seven.” Mitchell reported. “We're still at full strength.”

Thirteen fighters for a Sharlin wasn't a bad exchange, but these were some of the best pilots in the fleet and losing them was a bitter blow. Not least because they were his friends as well as allies.

“We'll provide cover for the other Strike groups.” Sinclair moved to his next set of orders. “Keep the fighters off them while they make their own attack runs.”

The diminished airwing looped around and accelerated towards the thickest fighting, the whole sky filled with burning ships and traces of gunfire. Sinclair couldn't imagine anything living for long in that Maelstrom but he had thrown himself and his friends into it. It is what his father would have done, and he would not dishonour his memory with hesitation or doubt.