“Then go. Go, before We grow tired of the sheer comfortableness of the Jade Throne,” said Lamagh, a bitter smile on her lips.
“Trample-Blitz Squadron 1 shall proceed forth, in humble compliance with Your imperial command.”
Lamagh gave a slight nod, and as soon as the feed cut out, the right of control returned to the ship. At that moment, the Gaftnochec had almost entirely overtaken the cylinder formation made up of raid ships. The imperial flagship then accelerated at a dash, almost as though the Empress wanted to shake away any lingering feelings of attachment.
The raid ships maintained their current courses and speed, with the Lymcaubh as the sole exception. It slowly picked up speed in order to retrieve the cargo pod that the Empress’s Ship had ejected.
“I obtained the crest banner,” came Atosryua’s message, its design appearing on the main screen. The emblem of Trample-Blitz Squadron 1 was the numeral “1” on a caubh (venomous serpent). “From here on out, we’ll be training to hone our group battle maneuvers. All ships head for the Ileesh Portal.”
Trample-Blitz Squadron 1 reverted to the single-column formation, with the Lymcaubh once again at the fore. Together, they made for one of the eight portals that revolved in close proximity to the imperial capital of Lacmhacarh.
“I want to hold a meeting before we enter planar space,” said Atosryua. “We won’t need to gather together. Each ship commander is to open the confidential line in their quarters. Let’s set the meeting to start at 1800 capital time.”
Sobash had an orbital building of his own in the capital. If one were to search for a room in that mansion house of equal size to the captain’s quarters of a Caubh-class ship, it would have to be the toy garage next to the children’s room. Yet Sobash had come to like this little room. It was cramped, but functional, and it was bigger than the captain’s quarters of a supply ship. Best of all, it was nice and new.
The mansion at the capital was built expressly for raising children. The days he spent with his two kids were more precious memories than the voyages of the most profitable merchant vessels in the history of commerce in the Empire, but now they were full-grown adults. Were he to return, he’d find only the maintenance automatons whirring more quietly than a bed of flowers.
Sobash sat down in his black leather chair and glanced at his wristgear’s time display. Shortly before eighteen o’clock, he opened the confidential line.
Window-screens popped open one after the other, and by precisely eighteen, Commandant Atosryua and the twelve ship commanders were assembled.
“About the space for our tactical exercises,” started Atosryua, without preamble. “I was hoping for an astrobase somewhere.”
“Sounds reasonable,” said Deurec, Ship Commander of the Batcaubh. An astrobase had everything ships needed, including resupply facilities, repair and construction shipyards, and recreation spots. As such, the best place to square off against one another was the planar space near the portals that led to an astrobase.
“That being said, Military Command Headquarters is ordering us to train at the Countdom of Hyde.”
The other ship commanders couldn’t hide their confusion. It seemed they all knew about the Countdom. It was exceedingly famous as a territory-nation on the very outskirts of the galactic map. Discovering a human society after such a long stretch of isolation had made quite the stir, and it was also the star system that was the cause for this war, albeit only as a pretext.
Sobash knew too, of course. Hyde was the star fief of a comrade with whom he’d fought side-by-side. Mind, he had no idea why they had to be training in that countdom.
He kept silent, thinking Commandant Atosryua was bound to explain it all. The other ship commanders didn’t say anything, either, awaiting the Commandant’s elucidation. Yet Atosryua appeared to be waiting for someone to ask why, so, sighing inwardly, Sobash reluctantly took it upon himself.
“Why are we to train at the Countdom of Hyde, ma’am? It can’t be undiluted training there, surely.”
“Ostensibly, we were given one reason,” she said. “Military Command HQ wants us to do training exercises that are a step above what I was expecting. They want us honing our strategy, not our tactics. Our training assignment is as follows...”
A window-screen showing the planar space map of the Ileesh Monarchy appeared. The Ileesh Monarchy was peculiarly shaped, compared to its fellows in the Eight Monarchies. It was circular. On the map, two points were flashing on the circle, the distance between them almost equal to the diameter of the circle.
“As you know, the Hyde Portal is the farthest from the Ileesh Portal,” she explained. “In other words, the time it takes to get there is near enough the same, whether you go clockwise or counter-clockwise.”
Two luminous dotted lines extended from both sides of the Ileesh Portal, following the curve of the Ileesh Monarchy until they reached the point of light that represented the Countdom of Hyde on the opposite end of the circle.
“In short, the squadron will be split into two groups, which will compete to gain control over the Hyde Portal faster than the other. Then, whichever of the two couldn’t take it fast enough must attempt to recapture it. That’s our training assignment. The Countdom of Hyde was chosen due to the unique topography. No other territory-nation affords us the same opportunity. Usually, there’s only one shortest route to anywhere from Lacmhacarh. In Ileesh, we can have a fair race. Presumably, the Countdom of Hyde will be the place where newly born ships come of age in the future, too.”
“If that’s the ‘ostensible’ reason, then do you think there’s an ulterior reason, ma’am?” offered Sobash.
“That’s right,” she said, drawing up her shoulders with a self-congratulatory air. “Currently, there are riots occurring
