Sadly, due to time constraints, I'll be updating only occasionally from now on. I'll still try to write though, but we'll see how it goes...

Chapter Seven

December 15th, U.C. 798, I.C. 489

Phezzan, Landing Platform

As the evening sun was setting, Muller waited with anticipation besides High Admirals Reuenthal and Mittermeyer. The sleek, beautiful white flagship, Brunehilde, Prince Lohengramm's personal flagship, landed with a grace that Muller silently appreciated. Then, he followed Reuenthal and Mittermeyer up the grey landing track to welcome their liege lord to Phezzan.

Standing at attention besides High Admiral Reuenthal, Muller snapped off a crisp salute as Prince Lohengramm disembarked. Clad in the silver and black Imperial uniform complete with a golden-collared white cape, Prince Lohengramm was bathed in the golden rays from the setting sun. A slight breeze ruffled his golden curls, which appeared all the more dazzling due to the reflected glow of the sun. At that one moment, Prince Lohengramm appeared to have rose from mortal coils to a divine status; truly the God of War – a moniker that the soldiers had gifted their brilliant, charismatic and beautiful leader with. At that one moment, Muller felt, as he was sure that everyone under Prince Lohengramm's command felt, that he would have offered up life without question if this golden-haired god in front of him so demanded. His mind flashed through the difficulties and sacrifices that he had endured since the start of his career in the degenerate and corrupt Imperial military, including his lost love. Yet, at this moment that Muller felt that everything was worth it, if only for the fact that it brought him here, to this place and this point in time, to have the honour of serving this man, Prince Reinhard von Lohengramm.

Around him, Muller heard the cheers from the Imperial soldiers surrounding the ship rise to a crescendo. By right, most of them should have been enjoying their shore leave in bars or clubs, de-stressing after the rigours of a long journey. Yet they had shown up here, uninvited, with no prompting at all from their superior officers, to welcome the god of their hearts. "Sieg Mein Kaiser! Sieg Mein Kaiser!" Came the cheers from the soldiers around them, expressing their feelings at the top of their voices.

"They're calling you Kaiser, Your Excellency." Even High Admiral Mittermeyer could not suppress the elation that he felt, Muller realized from the buoyant tone of his voice. " 'Mein Kaiser'. Our Emperor."

"They're impatient," Prince Lohengramm smirked. Muller could not help but feel a jolt of elation, a tingle of anticipation at those words. It was understood, but never spoken off in public, among Prince Lohengramm's subordinates, that Prince Lohengramm would take the crown for himself eventually. No, that wasn't true, Muller realized. His mind flashed back to that time in Geiersberg Fotress, when Fleet Admiral Kircheis lay bleeding of the injury he had suffered when fighting the assassin. "Please, win the universe, Lord Reinhard." That was the one and only outright confirmation that they had had of Prince Lohengramm's ambitions, at a time when they had still been considering how they would consolidate power within the Empire. Kaiser of the entire known universe…And Muller was proud and honoured that he would bear witness to the birth of such a legend as a warrior fighting alongside his leader.

December 18th, U.C. 798, I.C. 489

Iserlohn Fortress, Command Bridge

Kircheis shook his head in admiration when the technicians finally found reported the nature of the tampering in the systems. It was a way for Yang Wen-li to disguise his communications as those belonging to Imperial Headquarters. A small thing, but Kircheis could see how Magician Yang could do significant damage with just this minor trickery. He told the technicians to restore the systems as quickly as possible.

A few hours later, Bergengrun came up to him bearing a piece of paper. "Communications from Imperial forces on Phezzan, sir. Its authenticity has been verified." Kircheis took the piece of paper and read through it. The paper bore news of Mittermeyer's and Reuenthal's conquest of Phezzan, and Reinhards subsequent arrival on the planet. Mittermeyer's vanguard fleet was expected to launch from Phezzan on December 20th, with other fleets to follow subsequently. Kircheis was to rendezvous with the rest of the Imperial forces as quickly as he could. Everything, it appeared, had gone according to the operation plan that Reinhard had unveiled. Kircheis gave a mental sigh of relief. I wish I could be beside Lord Reinhard now…Even now, Kircheis was still unused to not being by Reinhard's side when on the frontlines. The battlefield was a dangerous place where almost anything could happen. Since their first battle, Kircheis had tasked himself with the responsibility to protect Reinhard, and it was difficult to allow others to take over that responsibility. Lord Reinhard…please stay safe… He could not wait to return to Reinhard's side, where he ultimately belonged. Deep down in his heart, Kircheis' only wish was to remain by Reinhard's and Annerose's side, always and forever. Yet, now that Reinhard's ambitions were beginning to yield its fruits, Kircheis knew that such a selfish wish on his part could hardly be fulfilled; he had his duties and responsibilities as Reinhard's right-hand man, which would take him into the far reaches of the universe alone, even if the war was over.

But maybe someday...when the universe is finally at peace...when I am no longer needed to serve...then I can finally devote myself to them...

Phezzan Corridor, Flagship Beowulf, Bridge

Aboard his beloved flagship that was travelling silently through space, High Admiral Mittermeyer sat in his command chair, his mind still on the farewell words that his liege lord had said to him a few hours ago. "Good luck. We shall meet again with all of you on Planet Heinessen, " Prince Lohengramm had said with his usual confidence and now, Mittermeyer was on his way to Alliance territory for the first time in his military career. With his fleet as the vanguard of Imperial forces no less. Mittermeyer could not help but feel deeply honoured that Prince Lohengramm had given him this chance to utilize his talents on the battlefield. How long had it been since the last battle? Though Mittermeyer yearned for peace, like any normal man would, after being at war with the Alliance for over a hundred and fifty years, he could not deny that deep-down, his heart thirsted for the battlefield, just like any other warrior would.

January 1st U.C. 799, I.C. 490

Holbit system, Brunehilde, Bridge

112,700 combat ships, 41,900 support ships, 16,600,000 men. That was what made up the Imperial forces that had gathered in the Holbit system, a star system in Alliance territory. Hilda watched from her position behind Prince Lohengramm's seat, between Captain Kissling and Rear Admiral Streit. The tight Imperial military uniform caused her no little discomfort, but she knew that it was a small price to pay for being allowed to witness Operation Ragnarok being carried out. Imperial military regulations strictly stated that civilians were not allowed on battleships.

Although Hilda had no taste for battle, she knew that she was witnessing a pivotal moment in history. If this really was the battle to end all battles…In fact, working for Prince Lohengramm, almost every event felt that way to her. She supposed that was because the golden-haired man seated beside her was a man who created history. But she did not let that fact colour her objective judgement. Despite all his brilliance, Prince Lohengramm was not perfect, and still, undoubtedly, human. In fact, Hilda was more aware than most of his immaturity and childishness, that hid a youthful innocence that she found precious.

However, there was none of that in Prince Lohengramm's expression now, as he listened to High Admiral Mittermeyer's tactical analysis. "To avoid hurting common citizens, we should choose this place as our battlefield," Mittermeyer was saying of the Rantemario star system. "I confidently predict so."

Hilda watched as Prince Lohengramm stood up."I agree with your observations. The Alliance has defended itself so far but they will have to go to battle soon to alleviate the people's worries. We must answer their salutations with politeness with the two-headed snake battle array," Prince Lohengramm declared sharply. There were murmurs of wonder and awe from the gathered officers, which Hilda understood was a manifestation of the admiration that they had for their leader, Prince Lohengramm.

"I will command the front, or the head of the snake," Prince Lohengramm continued confidently. Hilda noted the expressions of surprise and worry on the faces of all the officers upon hearing that statement.

"Are you saying that you yourself are going to command the front?" Admiral Muller asked with slight disbelief. Hilda could sympathize with the admiral, for she too felt that her heart would fall out at that announcement. She saw Prince Lohengramm nod in response.

Admiral Muller then cried out, "That's too dangerous! The Alliance force is weakening, but that brings about the possibility that it will become a cornered rat. Please allow Admiral Mittermeyer to take the front and it would be better if Your Excellency stayed in the rear and watched us." It was apparent to Hilda that Admiral Muller was highly worried about Prince Lohengramm's safety.

"In this battle array, there is no 'rear', Muller," Prince Lohengramm's tone was calm and composed, despite being questioned so abruptly by his subordinate. "The only other thing there is, is another head." Hilda noted that Admiral Muller's face still showed signs of worry, despite his resignation. She could sympathize; she had advised Prince Lohengramm many times to leave the frontline to Fleet Admiral Kircheis, High Admiral Mittermeyer and High Admiral Reuenthal, but Prince Lohengramm had flat-out told her that he wished to fight.

Prince Lohengramm then announced that High Admiral Reuenthal was to command the body of the formation, in essence, the true 'front' of the battlefield, since Alliance forces would undoubtedly attack the body of the snake in order to break up their formation. High Admiral Mittermeyer would command the 'tail', which would turn to surround the Alliance forces when it did attack.

Hilda watched as High Admiral Reuenthal accepted his order with confident smirk and a glint in his eyes. However, High Admiral Mittermeyer tried to protest, "But…"

Prince Lohengramm overrode his words with an implacable calm. "I came here to win, Mittermeyer. But in order to win, we must fight. And since we are fighting, I have no intention of staying where it's safe." Hilda could see all the admirals straighten at those rousing words. At moments like this, it was not difficult to see how Prince Lohengramm could draw so many talented warriors to serve under him.

"Steinmetz will command the second group," Prince Lohengramm continued with his orders. "Reuenthal's 'body' will be the third group. The fourth group will under Muller. The fifth group, the other head, will be headed by Mittermeyer. Farenheit and Bittenfeld will be in reserve and will enter the battle according to the situation. Teamwork between all the groups will be the key to victory."

After finishing with his battle orders, Prince Lohengramm gestured to Rear Admiral Streit, who immediately gave the order to serve the glasses of champagne to everyone present.

"Even though we're at the frontlines, we can still celebrate the new year with a glass of wine. Prosit!" Prince Lohengram stated. The toast was echoed by everyone present, including Hilda, who took care when draining her glass. She knew what a lightweight she was when it came to alcohol, and did not wish for this glass of wine to prevent her from carrying out her duties later.

After Prince Lohengramm gave the order for dismissal, Hilda followed him off the bridge.

Mittermeyer gazed at his liege lord's retreating figure. Turning to Muller, who was standing beside him, Mittermeyer commented with a mixture of admiration and resignation. "Just like I expected, he thinks like a warrior first. He seeks the meaning of life only from victory as a result of battle. Any born ruler would not care about how we win." Muller nodded fervently in agreement. But they could not deny that that quality was part of what led them to follow him willingly, with all their heart.

January 21st U.C. 799, I.C. 490

Rantemario system, Tristan, Bridge

Just as Prince Lohengramm had predicted, Reuenthal's fleet was the first to encounter the enemy. "Thirty minutes have passed," Reuenthal's chief-of-staff reminded his superior officer. Reclining in the command chair, Reuenthal nodded. "It's time to move. Let's put on a show for the Alliance. All ships , full speed ahead." His subordinate quickly saluted and carried out his orders. Reuenthal pressed his fingertips together. Well now, let's see how the enemy reacts to this provocative action, shall we?

A few hours later, Reuenthal's chief-of-staff reported fierce fire by the enemy. "They're concentrating their fire on one spot! If this continues, we'll be split up!" Upon hearing that, Reuenthal smirked. "Oh? Interesting. It seems that fear and desperation can be a powerful motivator at times."

Reuenthal watched the screen as two small fleets from the Alliance charged into the Imperial formation, like arrowheads from a spear. Hmm, it'd be foolish to meet a strong piercing attack like that head-on…"All ships, retreat. For now, retreat and disperse the enemy attack. Only a small part of the enemy's fleet is pursuing; they'll reach their limit soon."

Reuenthal then watched with an air of sardonic amusement as the enemy fleets launched themselves into the midst of Imperial ships with the air of kamikaze fighters. It was apparent that the enemy was not even thinking of the consequences of such an all-out attack.

A couple of hours later, the enemy finally had had enough and started turning back. Of course, the Imperial forces were not going to allow them to slip back unmolested. One by one, the sub-fleets in Reuenthal's fleet spun around to fire on the retreating enemy.

Then, Reuenthal noted that the other Imperial fleets were closing in on the Alliance forces as well; it appeared that Prince Lohengramm had given the order to close the double-headed snake formation. Reuenthal smirked once more. With such a large number differential, with Imperial forces outnumbering Alliance forces by three to one, and with Prince Lohengramm in command, Reuenthal was confident of Imperial victory.

Rantemario system, Brunehilde, Bridge

Reinhard was excited. The thrill of being on the battlefield coursed through him, setting his nerves tingling with the fire of anticipation. How long had it been since he had last been on the frontlines? Too long, he decided with a smile. Sometimes he wondered what he would do once he had finally conquered the universe, and there were no more battles to fight…Still, Reinhard was not a man given to deep introspection. And the battlefield was no place for such thoughts. Shaking his head, Reinhard focused on the here and now once more.

Analyzing the tactical map of the positioning of Alliance and Imperial fleets, Reinhard noted that Mittermeyer's fleet, true to its name of Gale Wolf, had almost broken through the fleet on the Alliance's left flank. Fahrenheit's fleet, on the other hand, appeared to be trying to sneak around to the enemy's rear for a two-pronged attack. It was just like Fahrenheit, really. Both Fahrenheit and Bittenfeld were highly geared towards the offensive by nature.

But Fahrenheit appeared to have forgotten about the gulfstreams unique to the Rantemario system. The currents emitting from the sun in this system prevented his crossing to the rear of the Alliance forces. Reinhard nodded with satisfaction as Fahrenheit's fleet retreated to concentrate on long-range firing; it was the wisest move under those conditions. Considering that Imperial forces were winning, there was no need for the Fahrenheit fleet to risk the casualties that would result from forcefully crossing the currents.

Reinhard then looked for the other reserve fleet…Bittenfeld's Black Lancer fleet was…Reinhard smiled wryly as he noted that Bittenfeld appeared to be moving his fleet towards his own fleet. In an instant, Reinhard discerned Bittenfeld's intentions. Bittenfeld knew that Reinhard would probably give the order for an all-out attack soon, and so hastily positioned his fleet so as to be in the best position for an offensive across the gulf currents. That Bittenfeld…Reinhard could not help but think that his subordinate lived up to his reputation of an untamed tiger, although the orange-haired admiral was more like a tame kitten in front of him. He found Bittenfeld's honesty and non-malicious straight-forward character refreshing, which was why he had never once requested that the latter reign in his outspoken nature.

Sitting back, Reinhard tapped the arm of his command chair thoughtfully as he sat back to enjoy his subordinate's performance.

January 22nd, U.C. 799, I.C. 490

Rantemario system, Brunehilde, Bridge

"Our victory is still inevitable. But the enemy is still under control and in good order." Reinhard's Vice Chief Adjutant, Rear Admiral Streit reported Reuenthal's latest communiqué to him. Twirling his fingers through his golden curls, Reinhard then listened as his Chief-of-Staff, Oberstein gave his opinion. "The enemy's commander is a very experienced one. If he concentrates on not losing, even Admiral Reuenthal will have problems. I think that we need to deal a critical blow and cause heavy damage."

Reinhard smirked. "I guess we must use it." Turning to Streit, Reinhard commanded, "Signal Bittenfield: 'Hang the enemy commander's beret on the Black Lancers spear and deliver it to me.'" With that, Reinhard gave what was essentially the signal for the final battle to start; all the admirals in his fleet understood that signal.

January 23rd, U.C. 799, I.C. 490

Rantemario system, Brunehilde, Bridge

Reinhard then sat back to watch his forces begin the all-out final attack on the Alliance forces. He watched with wry amusement as true to the commander's personality, Bittenfeld's fleet rushed head-on through the current instead of going around it. Bit by bit, his forces were eating away at the Alliance's forces. Victory was already theirs; it was just a matter of time.

Then, a few hours later, Reinhard heard the panicked announcement over the open channel on the communications system. "We're under attack! We're being attacked from the rear!" Even though Reinhard could feel the tension rise with just that statement, he himself remained calm. Noting that the announcement came from Muller's fleet, he quickly calculated the positioning of the suddenly-arrived additional Alliance force. He thought of the possibility that the force in front of them was a decoy, with the Alliance's true aim being to cut off their escape route. Or was it…a psychological attack? After travelling thousands of light years away into enemy territory, there was a deep-seated fear of being cut off from their homeland, which could affect the soldiers' morale.

Indeed, in an instant, Reinhard heard cries of "We're being cut off! We won't be able to return to our homeland! We're going to be isolated!" on the open channel. Irritation coursed through him even as he noted that the yells came from Mittermeyer's fleet. He knew that some of the officers operating the communications system must have started panicking, else there would not be such a lapse of military discipline. He would have to do something, or the fires of fear would spread. And the Alliance forces…

As expected, the Alliance forces in front of them begun to fire and retreat at the same time. "It will be difficult to resolve this, since we concentrated our forces, believing it was the final battle." Oberstein stated in an emotionless tone.

Reinhard could not stand it any longer. Standing, he gave the signal to mass-broadcast his words to the entire fleet. "What are we afraid of? If there are new Alliance forces, we'll just crush them one by one. Do not panic! Retreat in order! Even if they cut off our rear, we'll just crush the Alliance and take Heinessen and then return to the Empire through Iserlohn. That is all."

Mittermeyer's features came on screen. "My conduct was embarrassing. I apologize. We became so disordered even though we won. We may have become too accustomed to victory and forgot how to react to surprises." Ending with a bow, Mittermeyer expressed his apology for the panicked cries from his fleet.

Reinhard was magnanimous enough to forgive such small mistakes. "It's only natural. Even I didn't expect them to have the reserves to pull this kind of trick. This may be just to confuse us, but we'll proceed with caution."

"Yes, sir," Mittermeyer replied. "Could this be the work of Yang Wen-li?"

Reinhard glanced at the tactical display again, his lips twitching with amusement. "No one except that trickster could pull this off so effectively." He watched as the Yang fleet set its course for what Heinessen. You've bought the Alliance a short reprieve this time, Yang Wen-li. But soon… I guess there's a thing called a 'natural enemy'… "Tiamat, Astate, Amlitzer and now Rantemario…" Reinhard murmured to himself as he gazed out at the stars. Then he grinned as he clasped his hand around the golden locket that he now constantly wore as a comfort object, feeling the thrill of meeting an enemy to rival him course through his veins. Soon…

February 2nd, U.C. 799, I.C. 490

Gandharva system, Uruvasi, Brunehilde, Bridge

Leaving Admiral Lutz in command of Iserlohn Fortress and Admiral Kempf in command of Geiersberg Fortress, Kircheis set off with his and Wahlen's fleet to meet rendezvous with the rest of Imperial forces at the newly constructed military base at planet Uruvasi of Gandharva System. Imperial forces now totaled 180,000 combat ships and 20,000,000 soldiers. However, Kircheis knew that even though they had taken both Phezzan and Iserlohn, their long supply lines were still a problem. Having read the communiqué from Reinhard, he knew that the Yang fleet, best in the Alliance, was now free to move as they wanted. Kircheis knew that Reinhard was probably worrying over this problem too…

After their four month long separation, finally, in just a couple of minutes, Kircheis would see Reinhard again. He felt his heart beat quickened at the thought of reuniting with his best friend once more.

Stepping onto the bridge, Kircheis gazed up at the golden-haired man reclining on the command chair. Upon noting his entrance, Reinhard immediately stood up and strode towards him. Four months…Kircheis' hungry eyes took in the minute changes in his friend even as he snapped out a crisp salute. Reinhard's golden curls were even longer than before, and he was slightly thinner, but other than that, his friend looked exactly the same.

"Kircheis!" Calling out in a voice full of delight, finally, Reinhard came to a halt merely an arms-length away from Kircheis.

"Lord Reinhard!" Kircheis responded in kind, smiling widely, happiness bubbling within him at seeing his friend healthy and alright after a long separation. As Reinhard's hand fell lightly on his shoulder, Kircheis basked in the warmth of that physical contact. Then, he recalled where he was; on the bridge of Brunehilde, in the sight and hearing of many other officers. In fact, Wahlen was standing directly behind him!

Kircheis had not forgotten that in public, Reinhard had to treat him just like his other subordinates, or it could cause discontent and unrest. In that respect, Oberstein's firm disapproval of their private friendship had its point. Kircheis tilted his body into a slight bow, subtly removing Reinhard's hand from his shoulder. "Your Excellency, I have not failed you."

As he straightened, Kircheis caught Reinhard's irritated glare at his subterfuge. Conveying his placating feelings as best as he could through his gaze, Kircheis stood back as Reinhard delivered an official statement. Then, Reinhard turned around with a pointed swirl of his white cape, and left the bridge.

Kircheis stared after the retreating figure with mixed resignation and amusement. He turned to give Wahlen an apologetic smile, then hurriedly jogged after Reinhard, before effortlessly falling into step half a step behind his back.

Wahlen's gaze was soft as his eyes followed after his liege lord and his superior officer. He had watched the subtle interaction between them with a hidden, tolerant amusement. It was at times like this that he remembered that these two capable and powerful men were but young men in their early twenties. His mind wandered back to the first time he had met them. At that time, Prince Lohengramm was still Commander Reinhard von Musel, and Siegfried Kircheis a Lieutenant Junior, of an even lower rank than him. Yet the bond between the two had been apparent even then, Wahlen recalled. Kircheis had been the only one whom the Commander had shared his plans with. And with a grin, Wahlen recalled a particular mock-battle exercise, when he had managed to knock Kircheis' battle axe out of his hands because the latter had been distracted by the sight of the Commander in 'danger' – even though it was merely a mock-battle. Wahlen shook his head in amusement and respect at the intensity of Fleet Admiral Kircheis' devotion to Prince Lohengramm. He supposed that was why all the admirals, even the brash Bittenfeld, considered Kircheis a role model to follow in serving Prince Lohengramm.

February 5th U.C. 799, I.C. 490

Gandharva system, Uruvasi, Brunehilde, Prince Lohengramm's private quarters

Kircheis watched worriedly as the doctor examined Reinhard. His friend had developed a fever suddenly, after the fruitless discussion about Imperial operation plans a few hours earlier. Now, both Kissling and he waited with bated breath for the diagnosis. This was the first time in a long while that Reinhard had actually developed a fever; his friend was usually the paragon of health. Kircheis could not help but worry about the seriousness of his friend's illness. And why had Reinhard suddenly taken ill?

With a pang, Kircheis listened as the doctor said, "There's nothing particularly wrong with you. It seems that you have a fever from some rest. Today, and possibly tomorrow. It's a simple solution, but it probably works best." Kircheis breathed a sigh of relief at that, even as his brows furrowed. Just how hard was Reinhard working?

For a moment, Kircheis thought that Reinhard might refuse to rest, but his friend nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. It's good to get some rest once in a while. When my body is not well, my decisions will also be poor. Kissling, tell everyone that we'll make the operational decisions later on. It will not do to be hasty." Kircheis watched as Kissling bowed and left the room with the doctor in his wake.

Worried, Kircheis took the seat that the doctor and vacated and sat down by Reinhard's bedside. "Lord Reinhard, please don't overwork." Pouring a glass of water, he passed it to his friend to drink, before helping Reinhard to lay down on the bed.

Reinhard smiled. "Don't worry so much, Kircheis. Or those beautiful red hair of yours will turn prematurely grey."

Kircheis's eyebrows were still drawn together in a worried furrow. Still, he tried for a light-hearted tone, "Thanks to you, Lord Reinhard…"

Reinhard sighed. Did Kircheis think he could hide his worry from him? "Alright, alright. I'll leave all the work to you then, while I lay back and rest. And when we return to Odin, I'll give you half of my workload too."

Kircheis nodded solemnly. "Yes, Lord Reinhard. Please rest for now." If he could, he would take over all but the most important of the work from Reinhard, so that his friend would not have to toil so much. He knew that a lot of the work came from the political aspect, and resolved to talk to Hildegarde about it. As for military matters, Kircheis decided to talk to Streit and Lucke. As adjutants, they were supposed to take over the small matters so that Reinhard would have the free time to make command decisions…And he should probably find someone to take care of Reinhard, full time, given that he was unable to do so himself. Hmm, he could probably ask Hildegarde to see if she had anyone in mind…

As long as Kircheis was on Brunhilde, he might as well do as much as he could for Reinhard. Having thus decided on the matter, once Reinhard was asleep, Kircheis quickly crept out of the room to perform his tasks.