We arrive to find the system as locked down as one would expect. The Navy vessels hang in orbit, a metallic cloud that blocks the sun on the world below. Weapons lock on the moment we're in range, and I can see shining particles near the tips of the weapons, even as missiles are probably being loaded inside. STAR, for his part, begins to give me priority targeting data for my own weapons, as the ships in my fleet fall into place, becoming a series of flying wedges that begin to swoop down towards the Navy vessels.
What follows is a melee I can barely comprehend, as my force dives down towards the near center of the formation, while others give us cover from the wings. My ship, and two others, form the core of a wedge that drives itself into the heart, smashing our way through the enemy line. Fighters and smaller ships try to get in our way, but sunbeam turrets take them out before they can get into position, and the moment we're in range, I let loose the forward facing pair, the yellow streams of light crossing the distance in a moment to slam hard into the carrier I'd been aiming at.
The beams strike home with flashes, as the carrier's shields give resistance, but with three of us firing together, and with most of the carrier's support vessels engaged with the rest of our wedge, they can only hold up for a moment. That moment is enough time for a few gunboats to get in range, and suddenly space is lit with blue and yellow beams crisscrossing space, as the electron beams are added to the riot of colors. Blue is no match for yellow, in this case, as the few blue lances are silenced seconds later, the shields of my group barely grazed, as we leave the enemy force behind us adrift.
I don't have long to celebrate the victory, as more fighters pour into the mix, launched from other carriers, some of which had been hiding behind the planet, out of line of sight aiming. The turrets on our ships strain, metal screaming as it's pushed almost to tolerance levels, trying to keep up with the swarm. While it only takes a moment for a sunbeam to disable a fighter, there are just so many that we're actually forced into a fighting retreat, as more enemies slide into place, a large cruiser opening missile bays and firing at just outside the range of our beams.
The Hai's missile lasers begin their work, but it forces us to shut down our attack, as the two beam types together draw more power than our cores can produce. That alone gives the Navy breathing room, and I watch as the cruiser begins to assemble a new fleet around itself, gunboats and small fighters turning into a spear to pierce our formation in the same way we'd done with theirs. STAR is already marking targets for me, telling me to keep the retreat up, even as the Navy shoots forward.
Then the interception happens. A dozen Shield Beetles, some smoking from holes in their chassis, come screaming down towards the Navy ships. Their beams like the thunder from some great war god tear through the Navy line. Fighters that had been harassing us are left as burning slag, while the bigger ships soon sport brand new ventilation, out of which I see bodies and equipment tumble. The attack doesn't let up, however, and soon, we advance as well, as yet more ships of my fleet join in the assault. In moments, it's over, the cruiser issues orders to retreat, just before we render the ship itself inoperable.
The victory is total, the few Navy ships able to do so jump out, and those that remain cease to fight back, most activating emergency beacons, and more than a few launching escape pods and shuttles. Looking at them, and then at the report, we'd taken more than nine out of every ten vessels out, and while far too many of those were destroyed, there's still a lot of simply disabled ships floating dead in space, while ground forces below look to be digging in at entrenched positions.
My own fleet is mostly whole. A few ships are damaged, but their cores are already repairing them. Heck, only one even needs to be docked with to help with that. Looking at the stats, we'd won the day with nary a casualty, and yet, I feel awful. These men and women did not want to be here, they'd been ordered to come by some high and mighty politician who barely knew the name of the place they were sending these people to die at. That thought is deep in my mind as I order my fleet to begin recovery operations.
We begin the grim work, docking and evacuating those we can, and vaporizing those hulls that are too far gone to be worth recovering, but are blocking the spaceways. A few pot shots at the ground forces get them to surrender as well, and soon enough, I have the Admiral, the same woman who'd been on my ship during the Anderson mission, and who'd talked with JJ and myself at their base on New Wales. Apparently she'd been transferred here to take command, as Dancer was her homeworld.
"I must admit, I didn't expect to be coming back onto this ship as a prisoner of war," she says to me as she walks onto the bridge. Behind her I can hear the chatter, as her crew finds bunks for themselves. As per regulations, not one of her people had tried anything in regards to taking my ships for themselves, a proposition that would not have been hard, given their numbers. So I incline my head, and then offer her a chair, on the opposite side of the bridge from where Bandit and Joe are still poring over reports, and issuing orders.
"Such is fate, is it not?" I ask, and the woman chuckles a little. She doesn't say anything else, however, as all our attention is soon taken up by rescue operations, getting as many of her people out as possible, and then preparing the way, as Free Worlds troop transports arrive to take the world below. The ground forces surrender at the Admiral's command, and her people are taken off my ship, being held below as transport is being arranged for those who are willing to take the oath.
"Sage, Admiral," says Alondo as he and Freya come onto my ship, having flown with the fleet through the other systems. They've been taken as well, and all three worlds are now flying the flag of the Free Worlds. Sadly, not every battle went as well as my own, and of the three Dreadnaughts with the other fleet, only one is still in operating condition. Another can be repaired, but it will take time, and the third, was destroyed by a mass missile attack at New Portland, taking the hits so the rest of the fleet could win the day.
"Ah, Councilors. I assume we're here to talk terms then?" she said, sipping at her coffee, and the pair nod as they take seats at the table with her. For my part, I get up and stand in the corner, as, despite her being my prisoner, her treatment isn't really my decision.
"We are. The other fleet commanders said you were in the one in charge of this operation, and that makes you the lady to talk to," says Freya, and the woman nods.
"As a native, the Parliament believed I would be the proper face to put in the posters and the like, really get the people behind us. Of course, we told them none of these worlds had proper defenses, and it seems we truly underestimated the strength of your forces, Ms. Winters," she says, turning an eye towards me. I, wisely I think, say nothing, and the three continue their conversation. They mostly discuss the Oath, and who's willing to take it. The Admiral herself is, as it turns out, though she does have some sad news to report.
"We did attempt to find your friend, Katerina Reynolds before I set off. As a gesture of good faith to match your allowing Oathkeepers their freedom. Unfortunately, Navy Intelligence is not as much part of our organization as we'd sometimes like. They have her, their leader admits that, but he's refusing her release. However, I'm offering you my own Oath. If we're returned now, I will make certain she's freed, even if I have to lead a strike force to do it myself," she declares, and I can hear the resolve in her voice.
"Hmm, that sounds like a good deal, and as we have three Councilors here, we can put it to a vote," said Freya.
"Oh, is JJ here on Dancer?" I ask, wondering why I hadn't been told about it, but the two smile at each other in a way that is just shy of conspiratorial, before Alondo turns back to me.
"No, but you are, and by unanimous vote of the Council, and a majority of the Senate, you've been appointed to replace Tomek as the Military seat. We've come to depend on your forces, and you've shown no small amount of skill in the butt kicking department, both here on Dancer, and in many other missions. If you decline, it's fine, we'll have another vote, but I'm sure the Senate would be miffed. Senator Huygen especially spoke of your iron will and resolve as something we desperately need in these dark times," he assures me, and that actually takes me a moment to process, as I remember that complaining little woman. Still, after a bit of chin stroking, I reach out a hand, and shake his.
"I reserve the right to quit whenever I damn well please, but for now, I'll take the seat," I tell him, and he nods.
"A mercenary's life, eh?" he responds, and only then do I take a seat at the table, planning out routes for the troop carriers that will bring our prisoners to the Republic, as we have little room for them here, and I trust the Admiral's word. With that done, it takes almost a week of moving to get everyone to Dancer, and then loaded up, but after that, I launch with the convoy in tow, to deliver them, and hopefully bring the war between the Republic and the Free Worlds to a more peaceful end.
