ErchionBoard

The creature writhed as the last part of its upper skull was removed by a blindingly fast and brutally efficient buzzsaw, stained with the faded and multi hued blood of this and many more alien creatures. Its efforts to break free were stymied by the steel restraints placed across its six arms and twice across its torso and its snake-like lower body. It raised its chest in one last defiant motion against the cold and apathetic metal that trapped it, before it fell back and went into shock.

A door slid open and a figure entered, dressed in a white hazmat suit and carrying a rounded camera drone in its upper arms while its lower arms fiddled with a small bone cutter. It approached the now comatose creature and took a position at its head, where it set aside the camera drone for a moment while it cut away at the last few remaining pieces of skull still protecting its brain. Once the task was finished the creature set aside the bone cutter and picked up the camera drone, turning it on and setting it to record. A small, bright green light shone as the drone bobbed slightly in its flight. The creature stepped back, cleared its throat and spoke clearly to the drone,

“This is Sub-Director Graten of the Directorate of War, recording intended only for the eyes of Director Ancex.” Graten relaxed slightly and turned towards the creature on the operating table, and he used one of his arms to lower the camera drone to where it had an excellent picture of the creature's brain matter. Graten began to explain,

“As you can see here, the subject's brain is divided into seven different lobes, six centered on either side of the central lobe. Through study of previous subjects, we have determined that this lobe,” he pointed to the center lobe on the left side of the aliens head, “controls the species pain receptors, while this lobe…” the labs door slid open again, and a scientist dressed in an almost identical hazard suit entered, though the lower arm sleeves were removed, and in their place two obviously mechanical arms fiddled with a small black device. Gratin looked up from his work and turned to the drone and quietly explained,

“Entering now is my colleague Sub-Director Chaela.” He looked away from the drone and towards Chaela and casually asked, “Did you bring it?” Chaela nodded boredly and tossed the device to Graten, who nearly dropped it as he clumsily grasped it with his upper arms. After a glare in Chaela’s direction, Graten returned to his work and bent over the creature's brain, using a pinpoint laser to carefully remove the upper left lobe of the alien's brain.

Chaela meanwhile meandered in the room and looked over the non responsive face of the alien. She asked inquisitively,

“Where are the eyes on this one? Have you removed them already?” Graten did not look up as he answered,

“They’re a subterranean species, they never had eyes. They navigate by following the vibrations other creatures create. I imagine it was quite a shock to them when that excavation team broke into their cavern.” He chuckled, then returned to his work. Chaela nodded slightly and continued her slow pace, until she stood behind Graten directly. She looked over his shoulder and asked,

“You know, I found it odd that a Que’Jis of all people would come asking for a neural inhibitor. I thought you lot considered yourselves ‘masters of biochemistry’, and far above any Arc’Jis machine.” Graten cocked his head back and made to speak, but paused and turned towards the recording drone.

“Pause recording.” The green light on the drones face turned yellow, and Graten returned his gaze to his fellow Sub-Director, now thoroughly interested in his response. He removed the last of the creature's lobe and replaced it with the device, and he carefully began to run wires from the device to the other lobes of the creature's brain. He spoke with an annoyed tone.

“It’s not that I can’t rewire the beast’s brain chemistry to make it docile or obey my commands, it’s that I have seven different projects that I find more interesting and worthwhile than making a new Bio-Thrall for the director. So you’ll excuse me for not investing all of my talents into a second rate meat shield that will never see a deployment!” Chaela raised all four of her arms and took a step back and spoke with a mocking tone,

“Alright, alright calm down, I didn’t mean to strike a nerve. I’m sorry.” She lowered her arms and sighed, then spoke again, “Truth be told I understand how you feel. There’s only so many war drones you can build before you want to shoot yourself with the new plasma rifle you designed.” Graten paused in his work and looked up to Chaela and asking quietly,

“Have you considered applying for a transfer to one of the other Directorates?” Though he could not see her face through her hazmat suit, Graten was sure that by the slight changes in her body language Chaela was offended by the question. She answered,

“No, no I haven’t. I don’t think it would be any different anywhere else. Anywhere I’d go I’d have to start at a junior Technocrats level and work three times as hard than anyone else to earn back a Sub-Directors position. And even then, what would I do? Design new farming machines for the Director of Economics? Expand the computer grid underground for the Director of Archives? Spend twenty years on an asteroid while drones strip it clean for the Director of Production? Best I can hope for is an assignment to the naval group, at least there a good engineer is worth something.” Graten nodded slightly as he lowered his gaze back to his work, finally attaching the last wire to the last of the aliens lobes. He jumped to his feet and moved to a nearby sink, where he began to clean his gloves of the aliens' blood and flesh. Over the quiet stream of cold water he spoke,

“Sounds like quite the quagmire you’ve got yourself stuck in.” Chaela crossed both pairs of her arms and leaned against the labs wall as she replied,

“And what about you? Sounds like you’re not happy with your lot here, why don’t you ask for a transfer? I’m sure you can find yourself a cushy spot in Economics, or Information.” She snorted, “Everyone knows the Que’Jis are overrepresented in both of them, so you’ll feel right at home.” Graten turned off the sink and rushed back to the alien's exposed brain, and he started to fiddle with a small control pad he retrieved from the table behind him. He spoke almost as an afterthought,

“On, no. No, I have no plans for leaving War for a very long time.” Chaela asked,

“Care to enlighten me as to your master plan?” Green paused and glared at Chaela before relaxing and returning his gaze to the pad.

“Oh, why not. It wouldn’t hurt to tell you. There’s a reason I always drop whatever I’m doing whenever the Director assigns me a new creature to dissect and turn into a Thrall. Over the past several years I’ve painstakingly built a reputation of reliability and efficiency in the Director’s eyes. Ancex is old, and he’ll be dead before long. I don’t have a chance at the Directorship this time, but when the next one dies I’ll have more seniority. Before long you’ll be referring to me as Director of War Graten, and possibly even Director General before the decade is out.” Chaela laughed deeply as Graten finished self-aggrandizing himself. She managed to squeak out a response in between guttural laughs,

“Ah, well you’ve certainly got your future planned out! Forgive me if I don’t start addressing you as ‘Director-General’ before you’re even a Director!” Graten threw down the pad onto the table behind him and made to shout something, but on the operating table the mutilated alien began to writhe with unnatural vigor and rage.

It bashed itself against its restraints and the operating table, until the restraints gave way and broke, with the creature now standing at its full height of nearly five meters. It lunged at the two Sub-Directors, and was blasted apart by two plasma pistols that had seemingly materialized in Chaela’s robotic arms. It writhed in pain as it collapsed on the lab floor, seared slesh slothing off broken bones and staining the polished steel floor before it died. Chaela holstered her pistols on her belt as Graten bent down and examined the still exposed brain. He jumped to his feet and examined his discarded pad and spoke,

“Ah, that explains it. It seems the default setting was increasing the creature's adrenaline levels while numbing its pain receptors. When I threw down the control pad I accidentally activated it and sent it into a rage.” Chaela wandered over and dismissively kicked the corpse with her foot before replying,

“Excellent job, Director General.” Graten ignored her and activated the intercom and spoke boredly,

“Maintenance to lab X-35, full cleansing and disinfection required.” Graten then walked from the lab to the door and motioned for Chaela to follow him, which she did after a half second stare at the still steaming alien corpse.

“Come on, let’s get something to eat. Experiments like this always make me work up an appetite.”

Skydian stood at attention outside the Politburo office as members filed out one by one from the office. After the battle over Rylon, he had been recalled by order of the Premier, and so here he stood, in his Admiralty Uniform, looking at his watch, tutting and putting it back into his breast pocket. As the room emptied, the doors shut as he stood their, still at attention, awaiting to be invited in.

As the door slid open, a female Arkerian stepped out. "Admiral?"

Skydian turned to face her directly, keeping his mandibles closed and as close as possible to his face. "The Premier is ready for you if you'll follow me."

Skydian turned and followed the secretary into the office. Inside the red room sat the Premier, at the end of the a large table, filled with papers, books and various other pieces of clutter. Skydian once again stood at attention while the Premier drank his black coffee before looking at the secretary. "Leave us." he said to her, and with a nod she made her way out of the room.

"I trust you know why you've been recalled to the capital Admiral Skydian." The Premier spoke, after the doors had closed behind the secretary.

"I can hazard a few guesses, sir!" the Admiral shot back sarcastically.

Standing up, Premier Dwyne rose to his full height. No love was lost between the Premier and the Admiralty, with him being a former general, he was generally disliked by the Admiralty Board for his pushes in favour of more ground combat forces over ships. "A third of the fleet, you lost a damn near third of the fleet in a day when you were to be deployed on a 6 month mission!" he roared.

"The fault was not mine sir." Skydian said, maintaining his stance. "As per your orders the fleet advanced near the gas giant designated as Rylon. We were engaged at a close range by a waiting Roman fleet. Despite this, we were able to catch many of their ships and only a handful escaped."

"Are you questioning my orders Admiral?" The Premier said lowly.

"No, sir." Skydian stated shortly. "I am questioning the lack of intel which was relayed to you by the Peoples Commissariat. I believe they are the lacking party here, not you."

"That is idle speculation." Barked Dwyne. "Nevermind the fact that you published the details of the battle long before your report to me!"

"I published the report for the Admiralty. As per standard regulation this was put to the secretaries and staff of every member of the board, as is standard practice." Skydian said, still remaining still.

"Don't lie to me admiral, I am not a fool." The Premier snapped. "This was done in a deliberate attempt to undermine my control over the war effort. You sent so many copies out amongst the admiralty staff that you were asking-no, begging even for the details to be published. Your motives are apparent to me as can be."

Skydian stood there in silence, hands still held behind his back.

"If you think this will slow the establishment of our new deep space outposts, then you are sorely mistaken." Skydian barked. "But as I have no evidence of your sabotage, I am forced to only work on speculation in official terms. To the people, you're a hero, who brought a victory from a difficult position. To the Vanguard and I, you are a miscreant troublemaker. We call you the Butcher of Rylon. You seem to be under the impression that your will and decision making trumps the entire Union Council. That is a staggeringly arrogant point of view, wouldn't you say Admiral?"

Skydian remained quiet, mandibles close to his face, revealing nothing. After a long silence stretched between the two men, Skydian new a response was required. "Sir, under the circumstances there were no options available to us due to the situation that we were placed in. We could not retreat as per the overarching order, due to the fact that had we turned around our casualties would have been astronomical. Had we simply not engaged, which was not really an option, the Romans would have escaped and quickly returned with a larger and fresh fleet. Our only option was to engage and try to take as many Roman ships as possible."

"By firing on our own ships!" Skydian roared.

"They were lost either way due to the Longbow jump into the sector specified. That you, in person specified." Skydian stated matter-of-factly. The only difference was how many of the Romans that would have died had we not engaged. Our casualties would have remained the same either way."

Running his hands over his face, Dwyne took a deep breath and let it out. "Mark my words Admiral, the ISB will be watching your career with significantly more interest. If you step out of line, and I mean If they find so much as a wrinkle in your uniform, or a blemish in your shoes, you are finished, do you hear me?"

"Yes..sir." Skydian spoke, through gritted teeth.

"You are dismissed Admiral. You may resume command of your fleet." The Premier said to the leaving Skydian. As Skydian left, he could feel the eyes of the Premier on him even as the door closed behind him. He knew that there wasn't much he could do, now that he was being hailed a hero by the people. However he knew now that he had garnered attention, and had to make sure he moved carefully with the Internal Security Bureau watching him.

He was irritated massively as well. The idea that he now had a nickname would spread like wildfire amongst the fleet, and being referred to "The Butcher of Rylon" would not be good for his career, the war or morale amongst any fleet he was in command of. Nor did he want his place in the history books to be so tarnished that he would be referred to as a butcher of his own men. He needed a victory, a decisive one to bring back a modicum of respect to his name, or else he would be known as the butcher for the rest of time.

Battle of Rylon
Co-Written with The United Roman Reich

The RRS Jiko-hitei was the flagship of the URR’s 9th Fleet. Built around the same frame as the standard Roman battleship she was a modified command variant particularly designed for fleet coordination. Her weapon systems and armaments were greatly downsized to make room for sophisticated communications systems and enlarged officer quarters. She was an older model and a discontinued ship class that had been put into service in 922 AA of the Roman calendar. By the year 948 she was mothballed and replaced with the newer command class ship the RRS Prahlerei who took over as flagship of the 9th Fleet. The Prahlerei wouldn’t last to gather such an impressive service history however. In late 949 AA the Prahlerei got its port engine nacelle and central engine ripped through by a lucky Arkerian mass driver round. Due to the intensive fighting at the time, recovery of the marooned ship wasn’t possible and she was abandoned. It was then that the Jiko-hitei had been reactivated for active duty after a round of modernising refits and put back to lead the 9th once more.

The bridge was a large, cavernous room split in two sections by one big balcony-like structure overlapping the back half of the bridge room. Command officers occupied the top balcony level which incorporated conference tables for senior staff, with bridge crew located below. The entire bridge room was surrounded by an advanced monitor system that gave the crew a sense of sitting in a glass room with a clear window view into space. The monitor system itself relied on external cameras and advanced computer systems to create a highly compressed and stylized “window” image of the space around the ship. Fleets and planets could be seen as much closer to one another compared to their real life distance. Tactical considerations weren’t really taken based on what the window monitor system displayed. Instead it served more of a psychological purpose to give the crew a false sense of freedom and overview. True tactical information was displayed on consoles or were holographically projected from specific terminals.

The acting fleet commander of the 9th Fleet was Admiral Sion al-Salem. Nicknamed The Wrath by his soldiers. As a career officer he had fought in more battles against the Arkerians than any other Roman. And it showed. Sion viewed the grand window monitors through black empty lenses sunken deep into the hollow eye sockets of a titanium skull. Twenty eight years ago he had been onboard the cruiser RRS Sōgen as it went up in flames in orbit around Praxia. He had survived but his body hadn't. What little remained of his flesh that had been scooped up by the rescue team and been placed into a military Exo Frame. A cybernetic body that could bring a second life to those who clung on and rejected death. Sion hated it. Months he had spent in recovery and although his doctors finally cleared him for return to active duty, they all knew that the man that had gone down with the Sōgen wasn’t the same man that walked out from the cybernetic clinic. He hated his titanium shell. He hated the loss of his body and he hated the accursed vermin aliens that had cost him his flesh.

On the bridge he stood out like a sore thumb. His skeletal face notwithstanding. Everyone was dressed in the same faceless gray skinsuit as was proper during battlestations on a military vessel. Everyone except Sion. His Exo Frame didn’t need it. Instead the admiral wore the standard service dress of the navy with a select few service ribbons on his chest.
He stood in a brooding silence, his artificial eyes fixed on a pale blue dot far away on the window monitors.

“Admiral,” came the voice of Commander Sara Retting, Chief of Communications, in over the open coms. “Tachyon buoys reporting something incoming, sir. We have probes enroute… it’s looking big…”

Sion looked over his shoulder at his Deputy-Fleet commander, Commodore Léana Shiratori, who simply opened the fleetwide coms. “This is Commodore Shiratori. All hands, Battlestations...”
*************************************************************************************************
A Few Moments Earlier….
Admiral Gael Skydian checked his watch as he sat in the CIC of the RSF Polaria. They would be jumping into the system with 3 groups of ships to quickly recon the sector before merging and attacking a target. Red Group, Blue Group and Gold Group, which the Admiral's ship would lead directly. The crew continued their work, preparing for the eventual exiting of the ships from the longbow jump. The Combat Information Centre was at alert, preparing to go active as soon as the sensors were stabilized as soon as they slowed down.

Truth be told, he was annoyed and stressed. Premier Dwyne had pushed, and pushed for an attack to break the deadlock, anything at all. The Admiralty Board, bar two dissenters, agreed to begin a general offensive, and slapped an arbitrary target of destroying a Roman Fleet as the goal. He hated it, the idea that they were jumping into known Roman territory, and that his tactics were now being dictated by the Premier who's knowledge of military tactics were flawed at best. It was a blind jump to boot, no intelligence in that sector, outside the fact that it could be a vital flank around the planet of Rylon, a large gas giant, which they would be exiting close to.

Skydian shook his head trying to clear his negative thoughts. He had been given a large number of ships to actually engage a Roman fleet with, well outside the norm. If the Romans took the bait, and began to engage a small group which would hold until the rest of the fleet could arrive at their position. At that point they could cut them off or at the very least establish some vital listening posts. Vice Admiral Reop Carnetan interrupted his thoughts as they entered his vision. "Admiral, Sir, were due to engage brakes in a few minutes. Red and Blue are due to exit a right on schedule and split off."

"Good, walk and talk with me, Carnetan, to the bridge." The Admiral ordered.

"Yes sir." The Vice Admiral nodded, following the admiral through the halls of the ship. "So, we're finally going in, with a big one. The troops have been itching for a while to get into combat with the Romans. Especially with all the new ships and fresh crews but..."

"Speak plainly, Vice Admiral." Skydian ordered, hitting the button to open the doors of the Elevator, one of the few that only officers could use.

"Well, during this I had to issue 6 reprimands to the RSF Crowain's captain for lack of proper standards." Carnetan complained, using his ID and hitting the button to go to the bridge floor. "Many of the guns were not configured correctly, and the engineering crew were drunk, and the strategy outlined by the faceless bastards at the Defence Bureau puts our fleet at huge risk by making it jump and immediately split off."

"We will adapt, we always do." Skydian said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. "The GIB insist that the location that we’re jumping to has been quiet as the Romans are drawing more to the front. We should be able to come in and seize this quadrant effectively and quickly."

The doors to the elevator opened inside to reveal the bridge. Several displays were active, showcasing the information that the CIC was constantly sending it. Several aides and co-ordination staff, as well as senior staff moved around the room as the ship sped through space.

"Sir, information from the CIC, Longbow Effect is about to wear off, we're about to slow down rapidly." Lieutenant Porsa announced. "Brace systems online."

"The second we're out I want prep for a sensor ping to be sent out once the rest of our ships have arrived." Skydian ordered. As he said that, the ship began to slow massively as more of the fleet came in around him. He was face to face with a Roman fleet.

"Order all guns to arm and fire at will!" Skydian shouted at the lieutenant. Looking towards Vice Admiral Carnetan, he continued to bark. "We need bombers and fighters in the air, send around one third in escort of the bombers as they target the heavier ships, and I want the rest on intercept duty. The rest of our fleet are coming in at different positions and groups, have them try to encircle the Roman Fleet!”

"Yes sir." They saluted.

*******************************************************************************************************

“Fleet contact!!!” echoed Commander Retting’s voice over the coms onboard the Jiko-hitei. “That’s an Arkerian Battlefleet!”

“Blasted fools jumped straight on top of us! Have we missed a spy probe?” hissed 9th Fleet’s Chief-of-Staff, Rear Admiral Zedong Moulin over the command staff’s personal com channel as the bridge descended into a fully awake pandemonium.

The window monitors that covered the bridge pixelated and shimmered as it painted an image containing a grand opposing fleet. Warning signs, info dumps and pop-ups displaying trajectory numbers flared.

As the command staff hunkered over their monitors, trying to make sense of the intense information flow, Admiral al-Salem stood motionless. Empty eye sockets pondering the window monitors as his personal data link fed him select information.
A back door opened to reveal a panicked Unterleutnant Valeria Garza running onto the bridge. As the Fleet commander's secretary she was Admiral al-Salem’s aide-de-camp and shadow. Running the many small menial tasks that were an often overlooked but integral part to keep an admiral’s staff running smoothly. Momentarily confused at seeing the admiral simply stand and watching the window monitors instead of being seated by his terminal, she quickly fell in beside him. “How bad is it?”

“Sensor readings indicate the enemy fleet being around 65% our mass.” reported Commander Retting. The initial shock in her voice was replaced with a dawning cautious confidence.

“Not a fun day being a frakking Arkerian,” came a relieved sneer from the Deputy-Fleet commander.
Commodore Shiratori quickly choked on her words as new FTL alarms blared alive with a vengeance.

Glaring red symbols appeared to represent a new fleet detransitioning from FTL. “New contact!” shouted Commander Retting. “Another Arkerian Battlefleet... same mass pattern… Frakk… We’re outnumbered… Marking hostiles as Fleet 1 and Fleet 2.”

A holographic display of the star system’s local area hovered above the main desk that most of the command staff were seated around. At its center were the 9th Fleet opposing the Arkerian Fleet 1. In relation to the 9th Fleet and the first Arkerian fleet the newcomers dubbed Fleet 2 were displayed as having arrived on the opposite end of the systems gas giant.

“Incoming! Fleet 1 has opened fire!” Commander Retting exclaimed. “Frakk! A third FTL contact is coming in hot!!”

The FTL alarms had never stopped blaring before a third hostile fleet manifested itself further away from Fleet 2 and the gas giant separating them from the 9th Fleet.

“Opposing fleet launching fighters!”

“Launch fighters!” replied the Deputy-Commander by reflex.

“Belay that.” came the curt snap from Admiral al-Salem. “Destroyer screen to wall-formation against Fleet 1. Prepare to ward off incoming fighters. Keep ours ready to launch.”

“Destroyers, Wall-formation.” repeated Commodore Shiratori as she relayed the information to the destroyer squadrons. “Fighters at the ready!”

“We’re not launching fighters?” asked Unterleutnant Garza with clear but restrained confusion in her voice.

“We can’t fire back full volleys if we risk hitting our own. Let theirs try to cross the killzone instead.” explained the Admiral without his gaze leaving the monitors.

“Sensor sweep of hostile Fleets 1 through 3 complete!” Commander Retting called out. “All three fleets appear comparative in size! Sir, they are twice our mass...”

“They outnumber us two to one...” came the low murmur from Leutnant Viltautė Aust, Chief of Astrogation, as he punched in a few keys to edit the central hologram. The image containing the four forces and the gas giant now manifested a number of trajectories with timers counting down. Everything was cleanly displaying the movement of the enemy fleets and the amount of time it would take to complete a successful encirclement. For now they had time to break off and run, but that wouldn’t last forever if they stayed put.

Admiral al-Salem’s hollow gaze took in the hologram before pointing towards Fleet 1. “Ignore the rest. Full focus on engaging Fleet 1. Synchronize fire volleys, focus on enemy battleships.”

Commodore Shiratori relayed the command but looked nervously at the Fleet commander. “Sir, they will surround us…”

The admiral met her gaze. “Only if they have something to surround us with.”

*******************************************************************************************************

“Fleets are moving into position now Admiral.” The lieutenant reported. “Enemy is not launching fighters, I assume we caught them off guard, maybe in a rearming process.”

"Good, have interceptors regroup, stay with the fleet, and focus fire upon the heavier ships. I want a path opened for our escorts and bombers to hit their smaller ships." Skydian barked.

"Yes sir!" Shouted Lieutenant Porsa. "Encirclement is underway as well. If we get them in the perfect angle we can hit them at all sides, they're more than outnumbered, they're outflanked and outgunned!"

"Calm yourself Lieutenant." Skydian ordered. "The battle isn't won yet. The Romans have never let us catch them off guard for long. Continue the encirclement, and have all ships fire at will."

The ships continued to their position, as Skydian moved towards the viewpoint, an explosion rocked the ship next to them as a volley of rounds hit the RSF Bringot.

"Get Captain Hayeq to provide a damage report. Looks like they're using selective volleying to hit our ships one at a time, starting with our heavy hitters." Skydian ordered.

"No response." A Communications officer, LO Perke shouted. "Checking emergency channels."

"Get on it off Line Officer." barked Skydian. "Have the TRF Turpart fill the gap. I want no spaces in our firing line. Order the TRF Palindrome to try and get into position above their fleet to drop a heavy super cluster payload. If they're focusing on the heavy ships they should barely notice it."

"Yes sir!" the Communications Officer responded.

Skydian went back to looking out the bridge viewpoint. "Something is not right, they should have at least some of their smaller aircraft out. What are they waiting for?”

“Sir, ships are up to date and proceeding with your orders.” The Vice Admiral Carnetan spoke over the communication link. “The right flank is taking heavy losses, it seems thats where they are concentrating fire.”

“Indeed.” Admiral Skydian nodded. “Has there been a sensor ping sent out?”

“Yes sir, long range communication ships predict no ability for the Romans to respond in time to the attack.” Carnetan reported.

“They also said that this sector would be empty.” Skydian snapped. “Keep some back in case we suddenly find ourselves encircled.”

“Yes sir, I'm also afraid to report that the RSF Bringot has suffered a critical hit. Captain Hayeq is dead. Acting Captain Presa has now taken control and is attempting to restore systems.” the Vice Admiral explained. “Severe system damage, and guns are offline. Engines are down and the main reactor has taken heavy damage. They are switching off and moving to backup power to prevent leakage.”

“Tell them to get back up and get back to firing. Under no circumstances are they to abandon that ship unless elsewise ordered to!”

*******************************************************************************************************

“Destroyers are completing wall-formation unopposed.” informed Commodore Shiratori. “Enemy fighters are not advancing.”

“A cautious commander…?” Garza asked cautiously to which Admiral al-Salem hummed affirmingly to himself while contemplating the hologram of the fleets.

“The enemy is proceeding with the encirclement.” noted Leutnant Aust at Austrogation. “Enemy Fleet 2 and 3 are still outside of weapon range but closing fast. Whatever we’re planning, it better happen fast!”

Aust’s snide comment fell on deaf ears as the admiral simply continued to mull over the indicators on the hologram projection. Triangles representing the ships of the 9th Fleet turned to red exes where the Arkerian guns scored lucky hits. Some destructions were even displayed in crystal clear detail on the window monitors. The heaviest of Arkerian guns could penetrate straight through a ship's prow with all its armor and reach a fusion reactor. Such hits, although rare, were the nastiest. While fusion reactors could be effectively emergency shut down a direct hit would result in an impromptu break of the gravitonic containment field containing the reactor's fully operational force. The result was instant vaporization. No crew ever knew what hit them before they were turned to ashes.

“If a fourth fleet jumps in near our escape vector we’re history…” mumbled Aust as he studied the steady countdown of the closing escape window.

“No need to plan for the inevitable.” answered al-Salem with a cold voice that had an icy chill run down Garza’s spine. She respected the Admiral and was confident in his abilities but his incessant bursts of nihilisms always disturbed her greatly. The words never felt right coming out of that black titanium skull.

“Order Commodore Lenski’s Battlecruiser squadron to focus on any elements trying to break out of the enemy formation. Box them in.” ordered al-Salem as the image behind him displayed the carrier RRS Ozymandias take a critical hit to its hangar department.

As Shiratori relayed the information Garza turned to the Admiral. “Do we have time to beat them?”

“This Arkerian fleet represents a clear and pressing danger. We can’t allow it to proceed at full force.” explained al-Salem as he mulled over the hologram a final time before making his decision.
“Time to put the pressure on them. Advance forward to optimum fire range for the cruisers. I want as many guns on target as possible. Let’s overwhelm them!”

*******************************************************************************************************

“Enemy advancing!” Shouted Lieutenant Porsa. “They’re trying to engage us at close range.”

“At that close range they won't last long against the fleet.” Skydian remarked, wondering what was going on.

“Sir, they're focusing on the right flank.” The Lieutenant announced. “They’re trying to focus on one flank, they're throwing everything they have at it."

"Why have we ceased firing Lieutenant?" Barked Skydian.

"Admiral Carnetan has ordered a cease fire while our bombers support the right flank." The Lieutenant explained. "If we keep firing we risk hitting our own bombers and our own ships that are holding the right"

“Belay that order.” Skydian barked.

“Sir?” Asked Lieutenant Porsa as several others in the room turned around to look at the admiral, realisation quickly dawned over most of them as to what was going to happen.

“If we cease firing now, then the Romans destroy the right flank and have an escape window. The enemy fleet at the moment is using our own ships as an effective shield.” Skydian explained looking at the battle. “The right flank is likely lost no matter the decision we take. All ships are to resume battle immediately.”

“Sir, I can’t-That order is…monstrous, we’ll be firing on our own ships!” Lieutenant Porsa objected. “We can't possibly go ahead and do that.”

“That Roman fleet must not escape!” Skydian shouted, rounding on the lieutenant. “Victory comes not without sacrifice. The right flank could be lost either way. Follow your orders, Lieutenant”

The lieutenant glared, but did as was ordered, and sent the order to continue firing at the Roman fleet while ordering the right flank of ships to hold their position, preventing the Romans from escaping, while the bombers let loose a volley.

“Admiral, the battleship RSF Bringot has its engines back online.” The Lieutenant told him as the fleet once again opened fire. “Lifepod bays are either jettisoned or destroyed. All guns have been destroyed by the Roman space fleet.”

“Tell the ship to try to withdraw back to the fleet.” Skydian ordered.

“Bringot crew unresponsive sir, Acting Captain has sent one message, subject line is final” LO Perke, the communications officer piped up. “The Guns may be silent, but never the men.”

“What is that idiot of an acting captain doing?” Skydian asked. He watched as the battleship Bringot picked up speed with its restored engines, and approached a Roman ship, but instead of trying to fire, the battleship collided head on with a Roman one. Scrap, metal and debris spread out from the collision as the ship exploded with a brief white flash.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Bomber volley incoming!” Commander Retting exclaimed as a swarm of new blaring symbols materialized on the holographic display.

“Steady, complete our advance as planned.” al-Salem replied calmly as Garza gave him a questioning look. “It’s the Destroyer’s job to deal with the bombers. It’s out of our hands.”

“Enemy fire is becoming more erratic…” stated the Deputy-Commander while most gazes were unwillingly drawn to the symbols crashing into the Destroyer’s wall formation. Symbols flickered. turning yellow, orange or red. Ships turned to dust in spectacular light shows on the window monitors when missiles overran the point-defence systems.

A section on the window monitors focused in on a damaged Arkerian ship that had engaged its thrusters and managed to slam straight into the RRS Chisana-Ehren as the two ships disappeared in white light.

“They are ripe enough now.” nodded al-Salem towards Garza before facing his officers. “Prepare a synchronized missile volley, cone pattern of every launcher we got, anti-ship missiles and counter missiles. Have fighters and gunships launch and follow in the wakes of the missiles. The missiles will aid in confusing their point-defences’ targeting.”

“Preparing synchronized missile volley,” repeated Commodore Shiratori. “Fighter squadrons are ready for launch.”

“What about the killzone?” asked Garza, remembering the Admirals words from earlier.

“At the start of the engagement all formations were fully operational. Thus everyone’s fire output is much more concentrated, creating the killzone.” explained al-Salem with some patience. “Now we have already hit the enemy hard and their firing is becoming erratic, creating gaps. We’ll utilize this to get our fighters over while being protected by the extra sensory noise created by the missiles. It’s still dangerous though.”

“All ships are ready for fire & launch, Sir!”

“Finish the current artillery cycle. Ready on my mark...” Exclaimed the admiral as he turned towards the grand display of the window monitors. The enemy fleet shining as bright pulsating stars with the beauty of dark space behind them. “Fire & Launch! Let’s finish this.”

“Missiles firing, Fighters following!”

*******************************************************************************************************

Skydian watched as the vast array of ships on his right flank were effectively dissolved under the Roman barrage as they tried to engage. Many were losing power, some were lost with all hands, and some the visuals on the screens around him showed that several crew members had vented into space in some of the ships.

“Heavy volley locked sir.” The Lieutenant interrupted Skydians thoughts.

“Time to return the gesture.” Skydian remarked. “Fire all main guns.”

“Moving to fire!” The Line Officer shouted while relaying the order.

“They’ve got an escape route, after this volley they have two options.” Skydian remarked to the Lieutenant. “Either their fleet lives to fight another day, or they turn to try and fight us and lose their fleet. It now depends on how fast their admiral thinks.”

As he spoke his fleet lit up and a mass volley of heavy munition fired towards the Roman fleet, that was still engaging the right flank. There were going to be friendly casualties, no doubt, but it would undoubtedly do serious damage to the Roman fleet.

*******************************************************************************************************

“Enemy Fleet 1 is disintegrating. It’s a rout, Sir,” reported Commander Rettin with a tone of poorly hidden relief. It was short lived however as sirens started to scream in warning.

“Escape vector is closing fast!” bellowed the Chief of Astrogation as the time estimating clocks keeping track of the two other Arkerian forces counted down rapidly. “They're about to bring down the hammer!”

“We were too slow.” came a low acid growl from the admiral. ”Initiate retreat order. Let’s shoot through the remnants of Fleet 1 to minimize turning penalties. Destroyer screen move to protect the capital ships during our escape. Full speed!”

Admiral al-Salem bristled in silence. His hollow gace stuck on the hologram projection of the fleets. In a perfect world he would have had enough time to engage the three Arkerian fleets one on one. Using his numerical advantage by rushing the split formations. Sadly, the world was far from perfect and the enemy still outnumbered him. Not enough to truly frighten him anymore, but the engagement vectors were no longer on their side. Their heavy long range guns were all prow mounted and he would have to turn the fleet around to properly engage the remaining arkerians. During that turnaround phase the entire fleet would have its weaker broadsides exposed to the enemy without any heavy artillery. He would risk obliteration if he tried to turn to engage the enemy at this stage. Still, having managed to neutralize one third of this large invasion force was a great success by all accounts. Beating them back would now be much easier even if the 9th Fleet wouldn’t be the ones to do it. His hands curled into tight fists.

Unterleutnant Valeria Garza had noticed the dark auro that had descended upon the Admiral after he had given the order to retreat. How his mechanical body could emulate so much human movement that it could even make him feel unapproachable would always be beyond her. Looking around and at the window monitors the view displayed a desperate lightshow. Thousands of lives, millions of tons of hardware turned into scrap iron floated out there in the cold. The Arkerian forces had been given a bloodied nose but were still far from beaten. A mistake, a delay or just some bad luck would be all that stood between escape and death.

Her first space battle, which had happened soon after coming onboard as al-Salem's secretary, was the very same battle in which the RRS Prahlerei had been lost. She had never been as afraid as when the ship shook and all lights on the bridge went out. For a brief moment before the red emergency lights turned on she had felt as if swallowed up by a tomb. A grand black hall at the center of nothing. The walk to the emergency escape shuttles had been the longest seconds in her life. She had been sure, no she had known, that she would die that day. But she hadn’t. Instead she had been but a confused child sitting next to the Admiral on the escape shuttle while the admiral still gave out clear and continuous orders over a portable com unit. And much like this day it seemed, that day too had ended in a draw.

“Escape vector locked in, sir.” reported Aust, bringing Garza out of her thoughts.

Admiral al-Salem simply shrugged and turned to watch the carnage on the window monitors. There was no longer a sense of spring tensioned wrath emitting from the man, Garza noted. Instead there was just an emptiness.

“Ordering fighters to return.” stated Commodore Shiratori as she relayed the orders to the fleet. “All ships to escape velocity. Destroyers are moving to shield the capital ships.”

*******************************************************************************************************

“Enemy ships moving to their escape window!” Lieutenant Porsa shouted.

“Fire at their engines, order all ships to disable as many as possible. They're showing us their rear!” Skydian shouted pacing.

The Arkerian ships continued to fire upon the Romans ships, hitting their engines with the full force of the guns. Some were hit heavily, not able to fire their engines, but the rest of the fleet disappeared into the black emptiness of space. The Arkerian fleet moved in, like a lion salivating over a wounded animal, destroying ship after ship in pure anger over the loss of the right.

Skydian stood silently, staring into the space in which the Roman fleet was. Now empty husks of armour stood floating in space, drifting aimlessly. The bridge crew was silent as they stood and looked at the ships.

“Collecting a list of casualties now, sir.” Lieutenant Porsa said, moving away further into the bridge.

“Their names will be embossed on the Columbarium of the Fallen in Arx.” Skydian said, breathing out. “Send out the surveyors, see what we can scavenge but make lifepods the priority.”

“Yes sir.” Lieutenant Porsa nodded.

“Have the fleet move position away from the Gas Giant so that if the Romans show up with reinforcements we are ready to scarper. I think we’ll have plenty of time however.” Skydian remarked. “Not a good day, but at least we gave the Romans as good as we got.”

Taking a look around the room, Skydian took in their weary faces as they scrambled to coordinate the fleet. “I’ll be in my quarters. High Command is going to answer as to why their supposedly safe sector was filled to the brim with Roman ships.”

Skydian stood at attention outside the Politburo office as members filed out one by one from the office. After the battle over Rylon, he had been recalled by order of the Premier, and so here he stood, in his Admiralty Uniform, looking at his watch, tutting and putting it back into his breast pocket. As the room emptied, the doors shut as he stood their, still at attention, awaiting to be invited in.

As the door slid open, a female Arkerian stepped out. "Admiral?"

Skydian turned to face her directly, keeping his mandibles closed and as close as possible to his face. "The Premier is ready for you if you'll follow me."

Skydian turned and followed the secretary into the office. Inside the red room sat the Premier, at the end of the a large table, filled with papers, books and various other pieces of clutter. Skydian once again stood at attention while the Premier drank his black coffee before looking at the secretary. "Leave us." he said to her, and with a nod she made her way out of the room.

"I trust you know why you've been recalled to the capital Admiral Skydian." The Premier spoke, after the doors had closed behind the secretary.

"I can hazard a few guesses, sir!" the Admiral shot back sarcastically.

Standing up, Premier Dwyne rose to his full height. No love was lost between the Premier and the Admiralty, with him being a former general, he was generally disliked by the Admiralty Board for his pushes in favour of more ground combat forces over ships. "A third of the fleet, you lost a damn near third of the fleet in a day when you were to be deployed on a 6 month mission!" he roared.

"The fault was not mine sir." Skydian said, maintaining his stance. "As per your orders the fleet advanced near the gas giant designated as Rylon. We were engaged at a close range by a waiting Roman fleet. Despite this, we were able to catch many of their ships and only a handful escaped."

"Are you questioning my orders Admiral?" The Premier said lowly.

"No, sir." Skydian stated shortly. "I am questioning the lack of intel which was relayed to you by the Peoples Commissariat. I believe they are the lacking party here, not you."

"That is idle speculation." Barked Dwyne. "Nevermind the fact that you published the details of the battle long before your report to me!"

"I published the report for the Admiralty. As per standard regulation this was put to the secretaries and staff of every member of the board, as is standard practice." Skydian said, still remaining still.

"Don't lie to me admiral, I am not a fool." The Premier snapped. "This was done in a deliberate attempt to undermine my control over the war effort. You sent so many copies out amongst the admiralty staff that you were asking-no, begging even for the details to be published. Your motives are apparent to me as can be."

Skydian stood there in silence, hands still held behind his back.

"If you think this will slow the establishment of our new deep space outposts, then you are sorely mistaken." Skydian barked. "But as I have no evidence of your sabotage, I am forced to only work on speculation in official terms. To the people, you're a hero, who brought a victory from a difficult position. To the Vanguard and I, you are a miscreant troublemaker. We call you the Butcher of Rylon. You seem to be under the impression that your will and decision making trumps the entire Union Council. That is a staggeringly arrogant point of view, wouldn't you say Admiral?"

Skydian remained quiet, mandibles close to his face, revealing nothing. After a long silence stretched between the two men, Skydian new a response was required. "Sir, under the circumstances there were no options available to us due to the situation that we were placed in. We could not retreat as per the overarching order, due to the fact that had we turned around our casualties would have been astronomical. Had we simply not engaged, which was not really an option, the Romans would have escaped and quickly returned with a larger and fresh fleet. Our only option was to engage and try to take as many Roman ships as possible."

"By firing on our own ships!" Skydian roared.

"They were lost either way due to the Longbow jump into the sector specified. That you, in person specified." Skydian stated matter-of-factly. The only difference was how many of the Romans that would have died had we not engaged. Our casualties would have remained the same either way."

Running his hands over his face, Dwyne took a deep breath and let it out. "Mark my words Admiral, the ISB will be watching your career with significantly more interest. If you step out of line, and I mean If they find so much as a wrinkle in your uniform, or a blemish in your shoes, you are finished, do you hear me?"

"Yes..sir." Skydian spoke, through gritted teeth.

"You are dismissed Admiral. You may resume command of your fleet." The Premier said to the leaving Skydian. As Skydian left, he could feel the eyes of the Premier on him even as the door closed behind him. He knew that there wasn't much he could do, now that he was being hailed a hero by the people. However he knew now that he had garnered attention, and had to make sure he moved carefully with the Internal Security Bureau watching him.

He was irritated massively as well. The idea that he now had a nickname would spread like wildfire amongst the fleet, and being referred to "The Butcher of Rylon" would not be good for his career, the war or morale amongst any fleet he was in command of. Nor did he want his place in the history books to be so tarnished that he would be referred to as a butcher of his own men. He needed a victory, a decisive one to bring back a modicum of respect to his name, or else he would be known as the butcher for the rest of time.

Skydian stood at attention outside the Politburo office as members filed out one by one from the office. After the battle over Rylon, he had been recalled by order of the Premier, and so here he stood, in his Admiralty Uniform, looking at his watch, tutting and putting it back into his breast pocket. As the room emptied, the doors shut as he stood their, still at attention, awaiting to be invited in.

As the door slid open, a female Arkerian stepped out. "Admiral?"

Skydian turned to face her directly, keeping his mandibles closed and as close as possible to his face. "The Premier is ready for you if you'll follow me."

Skydian turned and followed the secretary into the office. Inside the red room sat the Premier, at the end of the a large table, filled with papers, books and various other pieces of clutter. Skydian once again stood at attention while the Premier drank his black coffee before looking at the secretary. "Leave us." he said to her, and with a nod she made her way out of the room.

"I trust you know why you've been recalled to the capital Admiral Skydian." The Premier spoke, after the doors had closed behind the secretary.

"I can hazard a few guesses, sir!" the Admiral shot back sarcastically.

Standing up, Premier Dwyne rose to his full height. No love was lost between the Premier and the Admiralty, with him being a former general, he was generally disliked by the Admiralty Board for his pushes in favour of more ground combat forces over ships. "A third of the fleet, you lost a damn near third of the fleet in a day when you were to be deployed on a 6 month mission!" he roared.

"The fault was not mine sir." Skydian said, maintaining his stance. "As per your orders the fleet advanced near the gas giant designated as Rylon. We were engaged at a close range by a waiting Roman fleet. Despite this, we were able to catch many of their ships and only a handful escaped."

"Are you questioning my orders Admiral?" The Premier said lowly.

"No, sir." Skydian stated shortly. "I am questioning the lack of intel which was relayed to you by the Peoples Commissariat. I believe they are the lacking party here, not you."

"That is idle speculation." Barked Dwyne. "Nevermind the fact that you published the details of the battle long before your report to me!"

"I published the report for the Admiralty. As per standard regulation this was put to the secretaries and staff of every member of the board, as is standard practice." Skydian said, still remaining still.

"Don't lie to me admiral, I am not a fool." The Premier snapped. "This was done in a deliberate attempt to undermine my control over the war effort. You sent so many copies out amongst the admiralty staff that you were asking-no, begging even for the details to be published. Your motives are apparent to me as can be."

Skydian stood there in silence, hands still held behind his back.

"If you think this will slow the establishment of our new deep space outposts, then you are sorely mistaken." Skydian barked. "But as I have no evidence of your sabotage, I am forced to only work on speculation in official terms. To the people, you're a hero, who brought a victory from a difficult position. To the Vanguard and I, you are a miscreant troublemaker. We call you the Butcher of Rylon. You seem to be under the impression that your will and decision making trumps the entire Union Council. That is a staggeringly arrogant point of view, wouldn't you say Admiral?"

Skydian remained quiet, mandibles close to his face, revealing nothing. After a long silence stretched between the two men, Skydian new a response was required. "Sir, under the circumstances there were no options available to us due to the situation that we were placed in. We could not retreat as per the overarching order, due to the fact that had we turned around our casualties would have been astronomical. Had we simply not engaged, which was not really an option, the Romans would have escaped and quickly returned with a larger and fresh fleet. Our only option was to engage and try to take as many Roman ships as possible."

"By firing on our own ships!" Skydian roared.

"They were lost either way due to the Longbow jump into the sector specified. That you, in person specified." Skydian stated matter-of-factly. The only difference was how many of the Romans that would have died had we not engaged. Our casualties would have remained the same either way."

Running his hands over his face, Dwyne took a deep breath and let it out. "Mark my words Admiral, the ISB will be watching your career with significantly more interest. If you step out of line, and I mean If they find so much as a wrinkle in your uniform, or a blemish in your shoes, you are finished, do you hear me?"

"Yes..sir." Skydian spoke, through gritted teeth.

"You are dismissed Admiral. You may resume command of your fleet." The Premier said to the leaving Skydian. As Skydian left, he could feel the eyes of the Premier on him even as the door closed behind him. He knew that there wasn't much he could do, now that he was being hailed a hero by the people. However he knew now that he had garnered attention, and had to make sure he moved carefully with the Internal Security Bureau watching him.

He was irritated massively as well. The idea that he now had a nickname would spread like wildfire amongst the fleet, and being referred to "The Butcher of Rylon" would not be good for his career, the war or morale amongst any fleet he was in command of. Nor did he want his place in the history books to be so tarnished that he would be referred to as a butcher of his own men. He needed a victory, a decisive one to bring back a modicum of respect to his name, or else he would be known as the butcher for the rest of time.

Skydian stood at attention outside the Politburo office as members filed out one by one from the office. After the battle over Rylon, he had been recalled by order of the Premier, and so here he stood, in his Admiralty Uniform, looking at his watch, tutting and putting it back into his breast pocket. As the room emptied, the doors shut as he stood their, still at attention, awaiting to be invited in.

As the door slid open, a female Arkerian stepped out. "Admiral?"

Skydian turned to face her directly, keeping his mandibles closed and as close as possible to his face. "The Premier is ready for you if you'll follow me."

Skydian turned and followed the secretary into the office. Inside the red room sat the Premier, at the end of the a large table, filled with papers, books and various other pieces of clutter. Skydian once again stood at attention while the Premier drank his black coffee before looking at the secretary. "Leave us." he said to her, and with a nod she made her way out of the room.

"I trust you know why you've been recalled to the capital Admiral Skydian." The Premier spoke, after the doors had closed behind the secretary.

"I can hazard a few guesses, sir!" the Admiral shot back sarcastically.

Standing up, Premier Dwyne rose to his full height. No love was lost between the Premier and the Admiralty, with him being a former general, he was generally disliked by the Admiralty Board for his pushes in favour of more ground combat forces over ships. "A third of the fleet, you lost a damn near third of the fleet in a day when you were to be deployed on a 6 month mission!" he roared.

"The fault was not mine sir." Skydian said, maintaining his stance. "As per your orders the fleet advanced near the gas giant designated as Rylon. We were engaged at a close range by a waiting Roman fleet. Despite this, we were able to catch many of their ships and only a handful escaped."

"Are you questioning my orders Admiral?" The Premier said lowly.

"No, sir." Skydian stated shortly. "I am questioning the lack of intel which was relayed to you by the Peoples Commissariat. I believe they are the lacking party here, not you."

"That is idle speculation." Barked Dwyne. "Nevermind the fact that you published the details of the battle long before your report to me!"

"I published the report for the Admiralty. As per standard regulation this was put to the secretaries and staff of every member of the board, as is standard practice." Skydian said, still remaining still.

"Don't lie to me admiral, I am not a fool." The Premier snapped. "This was done in a deliberate attempt to undermine my control over the war effort. You sent so many copies out amongst the admiralty staff that you were asking-no, begging even for the details to be published. Your motives are apparent to me as can be."

Skydian stood there in silence, hands still held behind his back.

"If you think this will slow the establishment of our new deep space outposts, then you are sorely mistaken." Skydian barked. "But as I have no evidence of your sabotage, I am forced to only work on speculation in official terms. To the people, you're a hero, who brought a victory from a difficult position. To the Vanguard and I, you are a miscreant troublemaker. We call you the Butcher of Rylon. You seem to be under the impression that your will and decision making trumps the entire Union Council. That is a staggeringly arrogant point of view, wouldn't you say Admiral?"

Skydian remained quiet, mandibles close to his face, revealing nothing. After a long silence stretched between the two men, Skydian new a response was required. "Sir, under the circumstances there were no options available to us due to the situation that we were placed in. We could not retreat as per the overarching order, due to the fact that had we turned around our casualties would have been astronomical. Had we simply not engaged, which was not really an option, the Romans would have escaped and quickly returned with a larger and fresh fleet. Our only option was to engage and try to take as many Roman ships as possible."

"By firing on our own ships!" Skydian roared.

"They were lost either way due to the Longbow jump into the sector specified. That you, in person specified." Skydian stated matter-of-factly. The only difference was how many of the Romans that would have died had we not engaged. Our casualties would have remained the same either way."

Running his hands over his face, Dwyne took a deep breath and let it out. "Mark my words Admiral, the ISB will be watching your career with significantly more interest. If you step out of line, and I mean If they find so much as a wrinkle in your uniform, or a blemish in your shoes, you are finished, do you hear me?"

"Yes..sir." Skydian spoke, through gritted teeth.

"You are dismissed Admiral. You may resume command of your fleet." The Premier said to the leaving Skydian. As Skydian left, he could feel the eyes of the Premier on him even as the door closed behind him. He knew that there wasn't much he could do, now that he was being hailed a hero by the people. However he knew now that he had garnered attention, and had to make sure he moved carefully with the Internal Security Bureau watching him.

He was irritated massively as well. The idea that he now had a nickname would spread like wildfire amongst the fleet, and being referred to "The Butcher of Rylon" would not be good for his career, the war or morale amongst any fleet he was in command of. Nor did he want his place in the history books to be so tarnished that he would be referred to as a butcher of his own men. He needed a victory, a decisive one to bring back a modicum of respect to his name, or else he would be known as the butcher for the rest of time.