Battle of Amritsar: Part 1

Ulanhu couldn't believe it. Miracles were something of an ambiguous topic for him. He never really believed in them considering them to be the incitement of false hope, something that could be very dangerous in his line of work. But a miracle it was, when an unknown fleet suddenly appeared, and opened a communication channel to all fleets, demanding the immediate retreat of the imperial fleet.

Ulanhu would perhaps even have cried had it not yet been the delicate situation. The only fact he knew currently was the fact that the previously unknown fleet was a detachment force of one of the Olympian fleets of the Republic of Auralias.

Furthermore Ulanhu was too drunk in his own guilt for the loss of over fifty percent of his fleet. He had been outmanoeuvred and utterly defeated. His 10th fleet had been no match for his opponent. He hated to admit it, but he had been destroyed, utterly extirpated.

He wanted to blame the Alliance management, but he couldn't, this defeat and its burden was his and his alone, no one but himself was responsible for this debacle of a defeat.

These thoughts created a predicament in his mind, wondering perhaps that he should take his own life, mentally preparing himself for the highest quantum of punishment.

Perhaps miracles did exist, because at that precise time the Auralian commander stepped into his quarters.

Reinhard was distraught to say the least. All the rebel fleets had managed to escape. That was not to say that they had not suffered casualties, but the angering factor here was the entering of the Auralian fleets.

The cold sense of dread he felt was once again on point, alerting him to an unwanted presence which came as the Auralian bastards.

His admirals had been smart enough to not engage them, which would have most certainly started a war between the two currently neutral nations. Reinhard, though was vexed beyond the human imagination could perceive. At that moment he made his mind. He would find the man that foiled his perfect plan, and destroy him. As for Yang Wen Li, Reinhard had had enough of him.

Good news came in time though, preventing Reinhard from slipping into a self-induced trauma. Kirchies had dejectedly walked in his room, fully displaying the actual extent of the catastrophe that was staring them in their face. Kirchies, however did carry a valuable, and perhaps pricless information. "Your excellency, it would seem that the rebels are gathering their remaining strength at point A in the Amritsar Starzone, it remains to be seen whether the Auralian intruders will join them, your orders?" Reinhard fumed, "it's obvious isn't it? We go and eliminate the Rebels, burying their burnt bodies in the graveyard of eternity." Kirchies expressed the faintest glimmer of ecstasy, quickly replacing that with his glum face, not being one to leave flaws in a plan he asked, "and what if the Auralians intervene-"Reinhard cut him off before he could finish, "Destroy them, we gave them their chance to escape, if they choose to remain adamant on dying, why shouldn't I grant them their wish?"

This time Kirchies could not help, but let a small smile escape his lips as he took his leave preparing to relay the message to all the other admirals.

Yang Wen Li did not know whether to be waspish or exultant at the fact that the Auralian navy had chosen to intervene. On one side they had indeed left Yang and his 13th fleet alone to die, along with the 5th fleet, commanded by Admiral Bewcock. However, it could not be forgotten that the Auralian intervention managed to save the bulk of the Alliance expeditionary fleet, and perhaps salvage the lost battle.

Yang, being humble as he was placed the victory of his fleet on pure luck, refusing to acknowledge the pure tactical skills that had been required to pull of that victory, with nearly his entire fleet intact.

The 13th had just begun preparations to rendezvous with the remainder of the Alliance fleet, beginning the arduous journey to the Amritsar Starzone. Yang had chosen this time to retreat to his quarters and acquire much needed rest.

Walter von Schenkopf, had different ideas. Walking in with his same sardonic smile he spoke, "those Auralians saved our asses out there didn't they?" "I'm not sure save would be the right word, they did choose to leave us and the 5th fleet to fend for ourselves," Yang stoically responded. "We cannot overlook the fact that they did manage to save the whole bullshit invasion by intervening," remarked Schenkopf, "furthermore, we cannot deny the fact that we will in all probability require their assistance if we are to overcome Reinhard and his imperial fleet at Amritsar." "Oh? And what makes you so certain that the imperial navy will infact show up and confront us," Yang chuckled. "Even you aren't that despot to the fact that they will indeed show up, Reinhard cannot lose this opportunity to further his own political career, and neither can he go home empty handed, as that would inadvertently result in his demotion, and a loss of confidence in his abilities."

"How great it would be that you were in fact wrong Scenhkopf, but I'm afraid that with how things stand right now we will very well be requiring the help of the Auralians if we are to achieve victory at Amritsar,"

Ashoka wasn't one to be surprised easily, however it was a pleasant one that greeted him as he wrapped up his operation. "Sir, it would seem that both the Alliance fleets we left by themselves managed to escape," Ashoka sighed with obvious relief, but the news wasn't finished, because what followed was quite peculiar, "furthermore sir, it would seem that one of the alliance fleets did in fact score a victory and left the battle area nearly unscathed."

To say Ashoka was dumbstruck would be quite an understatement. He silently played with a though, 'could this be the man I've been looking for? It is very much possible that he is the one responsible for the spectacular Alliance capture of Iserlohn,' Ashoka immediately dismissed this thought, 'he couldn't be the one, if he was, he wouldn't have let this bullshit of an invasion to take place in the first place.'

Content with that Ashoka went back to analysing the new information laid out in front of him. The bastard planners of the Alliance invasion had laid down another suicide mission. "You want to help them further don't you?" Augusts' holographic image flickered into existence. "Bloody hell, don't just scare the shit out of me like that." Augusts' beamed at this, "screw that, what do you want to do?" Ashoka sighed, "Well it's obvious, we assimilate our forces at Amritsar as well, and repel the Imperial bastards." "You do know that this time they won't just retreat, they will engage us, no two thoughts about it." Ashoka stayed silent at this awfully obvious piece of input.

Huang Osiris walked in on the Alliance commander about to take his own life. His military training kicked in as he rushed and grabbed the hand that held the gun and pinned it above his head, and swiftly disarmed the man.

"Holy shit, and what do you think you were doing?" Huang yelled. "Isn't it damn obvious, I'm taking my damned life." "And why in the blazes would you want to do that? "I Screwed my fleet, that's why, if you hadn't saved our asses, we would've been annihilated, toyed with, made a fool of."

Huang stayed silent for a little while at this. "You did the best anyone could've in that kind of a situation. You were outnumbered, and yet you managed to hold on, that in itself is a great achievement." The Alliance commander turned his distraught gaze onto Huang's face. "I… I did?" "Hell yes you did" Huang answered in a very sure shot manner. That seemed to do achieve the desired goal, as the Alliance commander got of his ass, and wiped his eyes, sticking out his arm in greeting, "I am Vice Admiral Ulanhu, commander of the Alliance 10th fleet, pleasure to meet you,"

Reinhard knew that he couldn't fail this time, the damn nobles would have his hide for dinner, if he returned empty handed, worse after already suffering a loss.

His plan to victory was simple, yet so meticulously calculated, that Reinhard was almost willing to relax. Almost. Reinhard did let out a sigh, grabbing a much required bottle of wine, pouring himself a well made drink, savouring the taste.

It reminded him of home, and the person he cared for even more than his ambitions, his sister Annerose von Grunewald. The same sister who was currently in the hands of that lecherous Kaiser. She was the reason that Reinhard had even begun on his conquest of sorts, it was to gain enough power to free her from the evil that was the Goldenbaum Dynasty.

His father had sold his sister for money, and it was something Reinhard could never forgive him for. He craved for her presence, and he craved for her return. Reinhard would never rest until his one reason for existence was complete, and his will was resolute enough to act upon it as well.

and currently the thorn in his boot was Yang Wen Li, the only man besides Siegfried who had managed to earn his respect, but that was it. Today was the day he was eliminated. Amritsar would be Yang Wen Li's grave...