Barbarians

From the mist, a shape, a ship, is taking form

And the silence of the sea is about to drift into a storm

Sign of power, show of force

Raise the anchor, battleship's plotting its course

Pride of a nation, a beast made of steel

Bismarck in motion, king of the ocean

He was made to rule the waves across the seven seas

To lead the war machine

To rule the waves and lead the Kriegsmarine

The terror of the seas

The Bismarck and the Kriegsmarine

Sabaton - “Bismarck”

The Prime Minister and Marshal Fujimoto had just seated themselves and accepted cups of tea when the large monitor came to life. “Admiral Matevosian,” Leandra said with a nod. “What’s your status?”

“It’s been a juggling act and a mad scramble, Ma’am,” he shrugged, “but we’re as ready as we’re going to be.” He tapped an icon on his console, splitting the screen and showing them an exterior view of the fleet. Squadrons of ships and lines of transports, freighters, and support vessels hovered in space like schools of sharks. “It’s the biggest fleet ever assembled in the quadrant’s history,” he said with pride. “We’ve stripped the cupboards bare and then some for this mission, Prime Minister, but I have left you enough smaller vessels to finish spreading the cure for the Ronin plague. With the technique General Nassat and his people came up with, it should be enough.”

The feral grin on Hélène’s face was eloquent. “Damn...I wish I was going with you,” she said with a palpable sense of yearning. “But you’ve done damn fine work, Admiral. Damn fine.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” he smiled.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Leandra chimed in. “And the fleet waiting to join you at Gzuj?”

“I think the Dhyaksh and I have an understanding,” he answered, his expression thoughtful. “He promised to maintain a discrete presence until we arrive, but…” He paused, marshaling his thoughts, before plunging on. “I know this forced idleness chafes at him, Prime Minister, and part of me is concerned he may do something...rash. Even with Adelais Otxoa riding herd on him.”

Leandra sighed. “I’d like to tell you your fears are unfounded, but I’d be lying. Patience isn’t one of Jiyazh’s strengths. That being said...I’m not without some slight influence,” she smirked, “and I believe I can help convince him to wait for your arrival.”

“That would be most appreciated, Prime Minister,” Matevosian told her, “not to mention taking a big chunk of my worries off my shoulders.”

“Now you get there as quick as you can, Admiral,” Marshal Fujimoto cautioned. “The last thing we need is for them to come boiling out of Gzuj and head off God knows where.”

“I don’t think we have to worry about that,” he said after a moment. “It’s only a gut feeling, but I think they want us to come.”

“An ambush, you mean,” she intoned.

“Yes Ma’am,” he agreed. “It’s only a hunch, but it would explain why they’ve bunkered in so tightly in the Gzuj system.”

“Yes it would, damn it,” Hélène swore. “Well, there’s nothing for it. We’re committed to Phalange, so keep your eyes and your gun ports open.”

“You can count on it, Marshal,” Matevosian agreed.

“Good luck, Admiral,” Leandra chimed in. “I need not tell you just how much is riding on this.”

“No, Ma’am, you don’t,” he said quietly. “You have my word that we’ll finish this, once and for all.” He nodded to both women before blanking the screen.

Fujimoto turned to the Prime Minister. “And just how are you going to keep the Dhyaksh from going off half-cocked?” she demanded. “He doesn’t respond well to being strong-armed, as you may recall.”

Leandra’s smile rivaled the Cheshire Cats’. “Now Hélène, I would never attempt to force Jiyazh. Perish the thought.”

“Then how do you plan on getting him to play ball if he doesn’t feel like playing?” she pressed.

“I don’t tell you how to plan a campaign,” the Prime Minister said in exasperation, “so perhaps you could return the favor and stop joggling my elbow while I deal with the politics?”

“Bah! Have it your way,” Hélène groused, rising to her feet. “Messy business anyway.” She crossed the office, making for the exit when something made her pause. “I just hope you realize how important that fleet is to the plan,” she warned, before taking her leave.

Shaking her head, Leandra pressed a key. “Prepare my next appointment,” she ordered. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“Prime Minister Singh, you have my assurance we will send all that we can to support your Operation Phalange,” Chikkij Kowzhach informed her, “though our resources are nowhere near as large as the Tetrarchy’s.”

“Every bit helps,” Leandra smiled, “but I must disagree with that statement.”

A dark look came across the Khonhim woman’s features. “I beg your pardon?” she said.

“It’s our operation, the Khonhim’s and the Tetrarchy’s,” she chuckled, as the Deputy Dhyaksh’s features softened.

“Of course,” Chikkij smiled in return, “though I must point out your forces conceived it, not ours, and you are providing most of the ships and the components to make it work.”

“Immaterial,” she said with a wave of her hand. “As my people are fond of saying, ‘We are all in this together’.”

“That we are,” the Khonhim agreed, as the smile disappeared. “Which brings me to the subject we have both been dancing around.” She regarded the human for a moment, and then asked, “When this is over, assuming we are victorious...what happens next?”

“Ah…” Leandra murmured, “an excellent question.” A tiny smile played at her lips. “It’s obvious the current state of affairs is no longer viable, Madame Deputy,” she said, “and neither side wishes another war between us.”

A cloud flashed before her eyes as she nodded. “I do not think my people could survive another war,” Chikkij whispered. “Pride should keep me from admitting that, but I suspect I am not telling you anything you do not already know...and we dare not make a misstep now. Neither of us can afford it.”

“No, we can’t,” the Prime Minister agreed. “The last thirty years have left a stain on all of our races, one that will take generations to expunge.” She cocked her head. “And Jiyazh? Where does he stand?”

The Khonhim sighed. “The Dhyaksh is a man torn, I fear,” she confided. “His head tells him one truth, but his heart says something very different. He has lived his life steeped in the traditions of my race, but now...he may recognize the need for change, but he will always be a reluctant participant.”

“Your people were a race built on war,” Leandra said, “though mine can make the same claim. And yet through it all, we have longed to set aside that part of our nature. It was only our discovery of the Triumvirate that made it possible.”

“While contact with the Khonhim took that away,” Chikkij grimaced. “It was unfair to your race, getting caught up in the middle of an ancient feud.”

“We made our choice,” the Prime Minister shrugged, “though if we had received all the facts, we may have chosen differently. We can’t change the past, no matter how much we may wish to.” Leandra sighed. “There is a small concern regarding the Dhyaksh and his participation in Phalange,” she informed her, getting to the point. “There are those that fear he may decide honor demands he attack now before our fleet arrives.”

“I believe...I pray...that is not so,” the Deputy said, “but neither can I dismiss it out of hand. I am certain your Admiral Otxoa will caution him against such a rash move.”

“Perhaps...but will he listen?” Leandra pressed. “This is the critical moment, the eve before the battle. Should he break ranks now...the results would prove disastrous. It would give these usurpers free rein, and since your worlds are the closest in proximity…”

Despite herself, Chikkij shuddered. “You must convince him to hold fast,” the Prime Minister pressed, not giving her a chance to find her footing. “A warning from me will carry little weight, and in fact may even have the opposite effect, whereas if it came from you...”

“...I will do what I can,” she said at last. “I believe I can make him see reason and remind him of the greater cause he serves. He has come far, these past years, but I do not know if he has come far enough.”

“I understand,” Leandra bowed, “and I leave the matter in your capable hands. If there is anything I can do to assist you in this endeavor, please ask.”

“I will, Prime Minister,” the Deputy Dhyaksh replied, sketching a formal bow of her own. “May our efforts grant us victory,” she intoned before she blanked the screen.

“...and that is how we do it,” Leandra chuckled to the empty room, as she leaned back in her chair and rewarded herself with a well-earned drink.