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Glaucon pulled Xenophon close to him.

“I told you, the people want it.”

The people are idiots. If we did what they wanted, we’d all be poor and sitting around wondering what went wrong, he said to himself.

“The complete results from all voting stations through Alliance territory are in. I therefore announce the vote is unanimous, and with seventy-two percent voting in favour of the proposal. It is with a heavy heart that I announce the intention for a general call-up by lottery of those of service age, to serve for as long as is necessary to end this war once and for all. As you will all understand, this mass mobilisation is for a single reason. The Armada will assemble and be used directly against the Laconian League. As of five minutes ago, we are at war with the League, and may the Gods save us all.”

Xenophon shook his head at the news. Deep down he knew the public would vote for it, but it still hurt. As a young boy, he had visited with a number of the key Laconian families and had found more similarities than differences in their outlook on life. Just because they refused the so-called enlightened views of the Alliance, they were considered backward primitives.

War with the Laconians? They should be our allies, not our enemies. The fools! Look what they’ve done, he muttered inwardly.

Glaucon and most of the other young people stood up. Some shouted, but most simply cheered. Kratez also stood, but he neither said nor did anything. He had that look he was so familiar with. The one he reserved for when a particularly taxing problem appeared. Xenophon moved over to him, still only half dressed from the fighting display.

“You’re not cheering, either?” he asked.

“Of course not. War has a sweet taste to the young, but as you gain in age and wisdom, it turns bitter. I fought in the border skirmishes with the Laconians. They are born to fight, and no sacrifice is too great for them.”

Xenophon nodded in agreement.

“You think this is a mistake?”

“To go to war with the Laconians? Of course, and how far are we prepared to go? Will we keep fighting when half of the boys and girls sent to fight are dead or badly hurt? The one thing we know about the Laconians is they will not give ground. The harder we press them, the harder they will fight. In all my years, I know of only one occasion where the Laconians surrendered. The potential loss of just three hundred of their warriors was enough for them to come to the table. They may not have many citizens, not like the hordes that we have. The real difference is that one of theirs is worth a hundred Alliance citizens.”

Glaucon stood up on one of the tables. He held one of the many glasses of wine up high and whistled loudly. He found it difficult to balance, and it took three people grabbing at him to keep him stable.

“Everyone! Today is a momentous day. It is the day we finally got off our collective arses and made the decision to wipe out the Laconians, once and for all. They have pushed us at every opportunity, and now they will see what the might of our Armada can do. A toast!”

He lifted his glass up high, and the rest of the audience did the same.

“The Alliance!” he shouted and threw back his glass. The rest of the assembled friends and strangers alike lifted their own glasses.

“The Alliance!” called out the rest as they joined in with his sentiments. Xenophon watched them all with a feeling of despair and dismay.

What are the odds I get called up to fight in this idiotic war? he thought.

CHAPTER TWO

Gamma Squadron, Aegospotami Nebulae

Xenophon gazed through his virtual windows and out into space. His plan hadn’t worked out as expected. Instead of staying at home, he’d been forced to join the Alliance Navy. That was six months ago, and he was now on his first military posting. Six months had seemed like years, but he still felt far from ready to take part in the campaign against the Laconians. For a brief moment, he forgot he was looking at an electrostatic polymer display rather than the reinforced glass it emulated. The centimetre-thick unit was part of nearly thirty similar units installed through the gundecks and command centre. It gave the impression the ship was thin skinned and surrounded by glass. A shape like that of a diamond glistened, and the object gave off flickers of light of many colours. He looked at it carefully, and the display quickly altered the camera’s level of magnification, detecting his gaze and interest.

Just more stars. Where are they? They are out there somewhere, he wondered.

They had been out in this part of space for almost an hour now, and the adrenalin pumping through his body was starting to make him feel sick. There were so many dots and smudges of light out there, and any one of them could be a ship with its own gunners watching down their own barrels. The thought sent a shudder through his body. The ship’s sensor package was working at full capacity, but there was only so much space it could monitor. That didn’t preclude the enemy from simply jamming the sensors themselves.

He looked at the configuration panel to his right and considered running another optimisation subroutine. The plasma charging system was running at over ninety eight percent, and far more than was required to work well in combat.

Screw it, ninety-eight will do, he thought, but looked about to see what the rest of the gunners were doing. They appeared to be checking their systems, but they could equally just be sat, waiting as he was. He sighed.

Something happen, anything!

The small flotilla of six Hydra class Alliance destroyers moved from their defensive positions outside of the Aegospotami Nebulae. They were only twenty parsecs from their operating base, but it felt as though they were ten times that distance away. It was an easy trip of two jumps to get back, assuming resupply drones were waiting at the supply point.

We could do it in one jump though, he reminded himself.

The safe maximum jump distance was supposed to be limited to fifteen parsecs, but the emergency reserves could be used to boost the trip to twenty. The thought of being left stranded in space was a terrifying thought. As one of the many patrols looking for the Laconian fleet, they needed to travel far from their base to hunt for any signs of the dreaded flotilla. The Alliance ships were small, fast and lightly armoured, but they could do little against a main warship. Their orders were simple; record the enemy disposition and course, then return to the designation jump co-ordinates and transmit the data back to fleet command at their base.

Can we make it out of here if they turn up? The fear of a major warship started to grow in his thoughts. I need to check the guns. It was his job, and returning to it might take his mind off the waiting.

There were rumours of a small battlegroup that was hunting scouts and escorts. The Captain had tried to quell the comments, but Xenophon couldn’t be the only one keeping an eye on the casualty reports.

Come on. Show yourselves.

They had left their outpost, Fort Plymouth, a place of warmth and security. As one of the small number of Olympus class outposts, it was one of the most important parts of the Alliance military and both a major asset and target. As powerful as a capital ship, and the home to thousands of personnel, it was the heart of the war effort. Through careful planning and engineering, the base had been well hidden in the Nebulae and was ideally placed to provide food and supplies for ships that were so far from home. It needed to be, as they were so many jumps from home. It would take months to make the return voyage, and without a base they would be forced to abandon this sector to the enemy. The outpost itself carried over a thousand people as well as the all-important FTL beacon. Using this device, a ship could make a jump of almost ten light-years in a single trip. As the ships had moved away, Xenophon had spent almost twenty minutes looking at the fleet stationed in the sector, hundreds of ships, and all waiting for news on the enemy fleet. But it wasn’t these vessels that interested him. No, it was the six Titans. These were the largest and most powerful ships he had ever seen, and the largest warships built by humanity. At almost twelve hundred metres long, these behemoths carried enough people and weapons to bring entire planets to their knees. Although only one had actually been constructed at the homeworld, the rest were from the scores of Alliance worlds. Each was held by a close bond to the mother city, as well as the fear of the Armada, a military force they were forced to contribute towards. The ships might not all originate from one place, but they were all crewed by loyal members of the Alliance.