All along the watchtower

Princes kept the view

While all the women came and went

Barefoot servants, too

Outside in the cold distance

A wildcat did growl

Two riders were approaching

And the wind began to howl

Jimi Hendrix - “All Along the Watchtower”

“Just how solid is this intel?” Admiral Matevosian asked.

“I don’t know,” Leandra replied. “I’d call it a ‘Best Guess’.”

“A guess,” Matevosian repeated, deadpan. “That’s not very encouraging.”

“I know, but it’s all we have. Nassat and Fujimoto both stand by the information...as does Jiyazh Ghuuyaz.”

The Admiral shook his head. “And how do we know that this isn’t some disinformation campaign cooked up by the once and future Dhyaksh? Sure, he claims he and Chugaz Uydan are mortal enemies, but can we trust that? Or him?”

“You’re not asking any questions I haven’t already asked myself,” Leandra told him. “I want to believe them...but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have misgivings.”

Matevosian grimaced. “Right. Do we know when to expect the attack?”

Leandra shrugged. “Soon. That’s the best I can give you.”

The Admiral just stared at her. “You’re risking everything on ‘Maybe’ and ‘Soon’? Should I consult an Ouija board while I’m at it? Read some chicken entrails? What about I-Ching? I hear that’s popular,” he said with thinly-veiled sarcasm.

“Enough.” Leandra glared at the image on the screen. “What part of ‘It’s All We Have’ did you not understand? It’s this or nothing...and I am not doing nothing. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Ma’am,” he answered, abashed.

Leandra let him stew in his own juices for a moment, before moving on. “Now then, what’s your status?”

“We’ve scraped together what we can, as per your instructions,” he replied. “It wasn’t as much as we’d hoped, between engineering issues and problems with qualified personnel, we’ve readied 75% to 80% of what we’d projected.” He sighed. “I’m sorry there isn’t more. We’ve been working around the clock, and those numbers won’t get any better.”

“We always knew that projection was optimistic,” Leandra answered, despite her misgivings. “How soon can you get here?”

“Three to five days, barring unforeseen circumstances,” he answered. “Some of these ships are flying on a wing and a prayer.”

“We can’t afford any delays,” she informed him. “If they can’t keep up, they get left behind.”

“Understood,” he said quietly. “Prime Minister...given the data from Admiral Fujimoto, and what I’m bringing in, I feel it’s my duty to inform you that what we have...Ma’am, it’s not enough,” he said. “We’ll give them one hell of a fight, but…”

“...I know,” she said. “And to make matters worse, Hélène’s forces are trailing behind Chugaz Uydan’s...which means it’s up to us to stop them until they can catch up.”

Matevosian stared at her. “...then that’s it then. That’s the ballgame.” He closed his eyes, as a pained expression seemed to age him. “I might as well just shoot them myself. Prime Minister, what you’re describing is a suicide mission. It’s Task Force Odysseus, all over again.”

“I’m afraid that could be a very real possibility,” Leandra said, “but things aren’t as bleak as they seem. We’ve been digging through everything we have on this end, and we might just have another string to our bow.”

The Admiral perked up. “I’m all ears.”

The Prime Minister managed an austere smile. “Then consider this your official read in to Operation Lacuna.”

Hélène sat in her stateroom, staring at a projection of the local starfield as she nursed her drink. Despite her years of naval service…real service, not the virtual-reality gaming that had given her fame…this war was taking a far greater toll on her than the previous one had. It wasn’t just the losses they’d suffered, but something more. She glanced down at the empty sleeve of her uniform, and then at the picture of her father, its frame draped with a black ribbon, and wondered just how much she had left to give.

The door chimed, pulling her from her reveries. “Enter,” she said quietly.

The hatch slid open, as Nassat stood in the doorway. “I hope I am not intruding,” he said, in hesitant tones.

The Admiral looked up in surprise. “...not at all,” she said, rising to her feet, only to have Nassat wave her back down.

“Please, do not get up on my account,” he told her, as she collapsed back into her chair. “You should be in Sickbay.”

“Sickbay is for serious cases only,” she said, “and besides, there’s nothing more they can do for me in the here and now. After this is over, I’ll let the Healers work their magic, but for now, I can’t spare the downtime.”

Nassat eyed her glass, and without a word went to her sidebar and poured a drink of his own. Hélène raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing, as he found a spot across from her and sat down.

“To what do I owe the honor?” she asked.

“I do not know,” he replied after a moment’s thought. “Something just...compelled me, to seek you out.”

“I understand,” she said quietly, as the edge of her lip curled up. “It may surprise you to learn this, but we humans also have a herd instinct.”

He stared at her in surprise. “I find that difficult to believe. You have always prided yourselves on your individuality.”

The smile grew wider. “It’s true. Oh, not to the extent your species does, but it’s there. We’re social creatures, always have been.”

Nassat took a cautious sip of his drink, before looking back up at her. “The uncharitable might describe your social instinct as social predation,” he said without rancor. “You are pack hunters, after all.”

“That is also true,” Hélène admitted. “We’re a complicated species, filled with internal contradictions...and we’re not much closer to understanding ourselves now than when we started.” She took a long drink of her own, before leaning forward. “Nassat...why are you here?”

Nassat closed his eyes. “I could no longer justify hiding in my quarters, while the rest of the fleet prepares for the upcoming battle. I came to inform you...that I am ready to resume my duties.”

“Are you?” she asked point-blank. “I’m not so sure.”

“Would it matter if I was not?” he shot back. “I may lack your skills in naval combat, but I can still read a tactical projection.” He took another sip and stared down at his feet. “The odds of any of us returning home are...slight.” He lifted his head and looked her in the eyes. “Tell me I am wrong.”

She wanted to look away, but honesty compelled her to meet his gaze. “No...you’re not wrong,” she said quietly. “Unless we can coordinate our attack with Admiral Matevosian’s forces...which means sacrificing at least half a dozen worlds...Chugaz Uydan will pick us off one at a time.”

“So I surmised,” he said with a heavy heart. “Then if I am fated to fall...I would like my death to mean something.”

Hélène sighed and drained the last of her drink before setting the glass down. “We humans have a saying: ‘The man certain he will die will ensure that he does’.” She shook her head. “Your death won’t bring her back. And if you think it’s something you deserve; I’d say you’ve suffered enough.”

“Compared to whom?” he asked, before gazing at her missing arm.

“...not all scars are on the outside, Nassat,” she whispered.

The Saurotaur shrugged her objections aside. “I have been going over your deployment plans, and while they seem more than adequate, I have a small addition of my own.” Nassat withdrew a small tablet from his tunic, pulling up a file before handing it over.

The Admiral took the proffered device and balanced it on her knees as she perused the data, before giving out a low whistle. “It isn’t lacking in the audacity department,” she said as she went through the file, before looking back up. “It’s risky.”

Nassat snorted. “Tell me one thing we’ve done in the last ten years that wasn’t.”

Hélène chuckled at that, before handing the tablet back over. “You’re sure about this,” she said.

“I am,” Nassat nodded. “With any luck, it may just give us a fighting chance.”

“And you intend to be a part of it,” she continued.

“Yes,” he replied. “Will that be a problem?”

She leaned forward, searching his eyes, before giving him a nonchalant shrug. “Last time I checked, you still outranked me,” she said at last. “If you’re determined to lead this mission...I can’t stop you.”

Nassat nodded and rose to his feet. “Then I will begin preparations,” he said, as he turned to leave...pausing as he reached the door.

“Thank you,” he said.

Hélène watched the door slide shut and then bowed her head.

“Banzai,” she whispered.