First Leader Grandous had a visitor in his office, located in the House of Governance on Comensal Prime. It was the Chief of Naval Operations, Prime Admiral Lotmas, and what he told Grandous was of such importance it had to be done in person. “It has been confirmed, First Leader,” said Lotmas. “We’ve lost contact with the Eletoshani system. Enemy forces had entered the connecting Porch system via a previously unknown closed warp point. The scanner and comm buoys at the warp point leading out of the Porch system detected small craft drive signatures consistent with that of Commonwealth pinnaces. It is believed the buoys were destroyed by the Commonwealth’s new pinnace type, but the reusable drones were unable to recycle in time to launch and give us positive confirmation.”

      Grandous looked at the veteran officer for a moment and then to the display built into the top of his desk, taking in the sector map with the Eletoshani system at the center. Lotmas got the impression the Grand Leader regarded the display as if it was a fresh corpse. “Have appropriate contingency measures been instituted?”

      “Yes, First Leader. Admiral Hovwen is acting on contingency orders and will be rallying her forces in the next inhabited system in the warp chain leading to Eletoshani. Thankfully the convoy containing the prefabricated components of six type-5 bases enroute to Hovwen had turned back and is now heading to her new position and will commence assembly of the bases.”

      Perhaps unconsciously, Grandous placed a finger over the icon representing Eletoshani, obscuring it from view. “With this new incursion it is imperative we resume offensive action and obtain operational momentum,” he finally said after a long pause. “Lotmas, assemble the Operations Board at the Naval Administration Building. I will attend in an hour and discuss which among the available options are viable.”

     “As you command, First Leader.”

     After Lotmas left the room Grandous got up and walked to the window overlooking the capital city. He appreciated the majestic monuments to Comensal achievement, from the establishment of civilization to symbols of victory over abomination races. Then came the trophies lining the walls of the office, from the Lauset flag that flew over the capital of that race’s homeworld to a fragment of the central coordination core of the Nu’Chut AIs. There was a trophy from the conquest of the Eletoshani, but Grandous’ eye was drawn to a gift received by a previous First Leader 40 years earlier from the first Comensal governor of Eletoshani Prime. It was a clock covered with an intricately carved wooden façade, created by an abom Eleto craftsmith. Grandous was of a mind to remove the clock, but it would be perceived as an indirect admission of defeat. He glared at the ornate timepiece for a minute, all the while going over a mental checklist that, had it been made of paper, would have shown signs of wear along the edges.

     The ongoing industrial infrastructure investment has boosted the economy, as well as funding the increased R&D for reverse-engineering of observed new enemy weapons. Squadrons of new ships continue to flow to the front lines, and fortifications at crucial chokepoints behind those lines, which were started at the beginning of the war, were strengthening. It was the lack of open warp points in Axis territory that presented a daunting challenge. The offensive had to be done at one or more points of contact. Grandous gave the abom-made clock one final look before leaving. Time, it was all a matter of time.

Segment Admiral Calixto, commanding Strike Fleet in the occupied Axis system of Bandstand, was giving endorsements for promotions in her flagship’s day cabin when her work was interrupted. Thanks to an extensive sensor buoy network in Bandstand the existence of a previously unknown closed warp point was announced. Calixto went to her CIC, waiting for the next hour as the contact resolved into five, remaining motionless two light-hours out from the primary. Two hours after that a coded transmission was received, sent via a tight-beam radio signal to a com buoy amid the sensor buoy net that only Hokum forces would know about. Upon deciphering, the five contacts were identified as ships belonging to Lord Admiral Jocelin’s Frontier Fleet. With that confirmation a pre-arranged protocol was invoked, leaving Calixto preparing for guests.

     Three days later Frontier Fleet entered Bandstand, rendezvousing with Strike Fleet at a gas giant halfway between Bandstand Prime and the closed warp point. As the junior officer Calixto received Jocelin aboard her flagship. As requested by Jocelin, there was minimal fanfare instead of a more elaborate greeting involving a Marine honor guard. Introductions done, Calixto guided her guest directly to the CIC while the staffs of both admirals held a separate, virtual conference in their respective wardrooms.

     The central holoimager in the CIC was prepared in advance, so Calixto went into her presentation as Jocelin stood by. The imager displayed a map of warp connections centered on Bandstand, radiating outwards. “Given what we know, it appears we’ve ran out of routes of advance into Axis space,” Calixto said as she used a light wand to manipulate the map. “The Axis system of Battlement is five transits out, occupied by the Commonwealth, and in turn leads to the Kerama Retto system and finally to Citadel. All systems beyond Citadel are under Commowealth control.” The map changed to display Commonwealth-controlled systems and warp lines. “Our allies have three routes into Axis space; Data Disk, Gymnasium, and Porch, which connects to the Eletoshani home system. The Axis has revealed two closed warp points in the Kerama Retto system, but as of now our allies have only been able to reinforce the repair anchorage they’ve established there, waiting to build a substantial force with which to probe said warp points. They believe one if not more unknown closed warp points are in that system.”

     Jocelin tugged on the hem of his vest, his eyes drinking in the display. “The Terpla’ns have a full plate, and we’ve only had that pesty raider group in the Com Pocket that will run out of supplies in due time as they’re cut off from reinforcement. Both our intelligence officers had been chewing on the same data provided by the Intelligence Board.” He looked at the junior admiral. “The fleet the Axis sent to reclaim their territory, and failed in the assault of the Cain system, couldn’t have been based in their Iron Sky system. The infrastructure was inadequate.”

     Calixto made a sign of agreement, both back pair of hands open with palms outward. “They certainly didn’t come through the remaining warp point in Battlement, running into the Commonwealth fleet in the process. As for the fleet you mentioned, it came through the Com-33 warp point leading to Com-30, with Iron Sky right next door. And we did capture the system data on Com-33.” She manipulated the hologram to show the warp connection between Bandstand, Com-35, Com-33, and Com-30. The icon for Com-35 blinked red, indicating that the data was acquired by survey and not through a captured database.

     “I’m sure the Presidio will venture the same guess we’re about to make, Calixto. The Axis very well may have entered former Nu’Chut space via Battlement or even Kerama Retto. However, we have no captured data on Com-35. It is within the realm of possibility that a close warp point is in Com-35, and the Axis used that as an access point to reclaim the warp chain leading all the way back to Cain.”

     The holo map reverted with the Bandstand icon in the center, with all warp links radiating five systems out. Calixto pointed to the Bandstand icon with her light wand. “With Eletoshani in allied hands, Sir, the AFC will respond soon. That the AFC hadn’t used the closed warp point here to reclaim Bandstand may indicate they planned to recover this system via Battlement or the slightly longer connection from Kerama Retto.”

     “It’s likely they will perform a ‘spasm’ attack plan, like they did to the Eleto and Nu’Chut AIs, when they had multiple routes into their territories,” Jocelin observed. Like all the other admirals he read translated copies of captured AFC historical operational texts. He found the information useful despite being laden with puffy prose of self-righteousness. “Had there been a com buoy chain in Com-35 then the Axis removed it. Also, your own forces found no buoy chain leading up to closed warp point here in Bandstand. Most importantly, we were unable to fully break the encryption of databases captured in Bandstand and in Iron Sky. The location of that close warp point could very well have been in that encrypted data. We need to place a comprehensive sensor buoy net in Com-35 as soon as possible.”

     Calixto displayed the system layout of Com-35 in the holoimager. The two open warp points were directly opposite of each other, separated by 150 light-minutes. She touched each warp point icon with her light wand for emphasis. “Our staff logistic officers have confirmed that we have enough scanner buoys in our freighters for two concentric sensor buoy rings for each warp point. Diameters of 24 and 60 light minutes respectively, and enough com buoys to pass on information to ships stationed at the warp points. The disposition of our two fleets will make the Presidio’s orders a most anticipated item.”

     “Until then, Calixto, we will proceed with the sensor net in Com-35. An escort flotilla will accompany the freighters, and our fleets will hold station one light-minute from the Com-35 warp point in the meantime.” Jocelin glanced at the time display on the holoimager panel. “We’ll finish this conversation with a working lunch in your day cabin. I may have forgone the usual ceremony reserved for a visiting senior officer, but I won’t pass up the traditional meal. Also, I learned that your chef is top notch and worked at a highly recommended restaurant before his reserve status was invoked. I’m interested in what he can whip up with what passes for food aboard ship.”

     Calixto chuckled. It wasn’t a secret that food service aboard her flagship was appreciably better than could be expected. She thanked her captain in getting the chef in question due to his contacts in the Bureau of Personnel, and the fact that he commanded the flagship went a long way in securing that chef. It was a shame that the culinary arts in the ISN was still struggling even after all other shipboard divisions met the demands of war. For over 300 years the ISN fought no wars, and exercises were held over a matter of weeks, not months. As a result, the quality of food preparation aboard ship was ‘acceptable’ and that chefs were seen more as caretakers of the industrial microwave ovens that heated prepackaged ‘bricks’ charitably called food. The chefs on fleet freighters, which were contracted civilians, were noted to be two or three steps above the regular fleet counterparts. Morale could only improve if the food did, and right then and there Calixto resolved to plant the idea into Emperor Valsur’s ear in her next report. “Ah yes, Sir. The ship’s chef can work miracles.”

     As part of protocol the lunch was plated on serviceware reserved for important occasions. Living up to his reputation, the chef did perform a miracle easily attributed to the Goddess of the Harvest and Home. Jocelin obviously enjoyed the thorough mix of prairie cat meat and fresh, marinated vegetables. Between bites, the two admirals talked. “What really concerns me,” said Jocelin, “is what’s on the other side of the closed warp point in Com-35. They had years, if not decades following the Nu’Chut War, to fortify the connecting system. They didn’t avail themselves to fort up the Com-30/Geode warp point when they had the ample opportunity to do so, and that tells me Com-35 served as their defensive bulwark.”

     Calixto wiped her mouth with a napkin, using her back right hand as proper dining etiquette required. “So far we’ve been fortunate to employ missile pods against Axis fortifications that were unable to forward that information. If it turns out that the system connected to Com-35 is heavily fortified then the Presidio, and even the Emperor himself, will instruct us to use those pods to lessen casualties.”

     “Specifically armed pinnace crew casualties, Calixto. I’m not defending it, but the heavy loss of those pinnace crews roughly equals one or two assault carriers in a typical assault.” Jocelin looked taciturn as he probed a particularly succulent strip of prairie cat meat. “So far the Axis has either hasn’t reach its pain point where it would research something that would supplement their own armed pinnace mass transit attacks or is so enraptured with its own technological dogma that it would have to witness pods in action and get that information back where it can create its own version.”

     “For me, Sir, my concern is when they’ll field their own copy of the anti-fighter missile, along with advanced point defense systems.” Calixto shrugged with her front pair of shoulders. “As for pods, we’ve already employed wide and thin minefields to cause attritional losses for Axis pinnace assaults. But I hazard the guess that if our Commonwealth allies developed pods, they will use them at the first opportunity.”

     “You’re right, Calixto. They suffered far more casualties, and were willing to sustain them, but I suspect even they feel the need to reduce armed pinnace losses. With Eletoshani liberated there’s going to be the need to sustain the operational momentum, pushing the Axis on their back feet. Even with missile pods the next set of battles will be…” Jocelin jabbed his fork at the strip of meat on his plate like a spear fisherman, “more deadly.”

Camp Lazlo, the primary military complex for the Imperium Space Army on the Axis world of Crimson Expanse, had taken the appearance of a typical Army base back in Hokum territory. Three years have passed since the first tent stake was planted, but now all the buildings were prefab construction with only the permanent hospital, headquarters, and the motor pools being constructed on site with plasticrete. Currently inside those motor pools were the vehicles of the 31st Tactical Armor Regiment. The Regiment has fulfilled its deployment tour and was going home to Hokum to resume normal reserve status. The personnel were eager to get back to their families. This was true for the crew of a Mongoose tactical armored vehicle named Loaded Vice. They were preparing their vehicle for boarding a troop transport, a process that involved removing certain items to make the vehicle suitable for the ensuing voyage.

     Furdex, the commander of Loaded Vice, was going through a checklist on a datapad. “Spuran,” he said into his headset microphone, “have the initiators for the 30mm and 7mm gauss guns been removed?”

     The gunner of the vehicle poked his head and back pair of hands out of the turret hatch. In each of the hands was a key component of the guns that, if removed, prevented them from firing. “Got’em, Sarge. I’ll unload the smoke dischargers on the turret next.”

     Furdex nodded, then motioned to a motor pool tech to fetch and store the initiators. “Pendex, how about the mortar?”

     Loaded Vice's driver came into view from the front of the vehicle. "I removed the breach block from the 50mm." He displayed the piece of hardware with his front left hand. "The safeties for the point defense strips are enabled, and I'll uninstall those strips next."

     Going down the list, Furdex called for Licus, Vice’s communications and sensors operator. “Licus, status on your console?”

     “All the important cards have been pulled, Sarge,” Licus said on her headset. “Just the FM comm is enabled with no datalink capabilities at all. Just enough for us for our short trip to the transport.”

     Loaded Vice, after the battle of Copper Medic several months ago, had its extensive damage repaired. Aside from equipment removed to meet regulations for long-term ship transit the Vice looked fit for regimental inspection. The crew were recognized for their bravery in recovering the occupants of a Weasel tactical utility vehicle during that battle, and though unspoken, were most likely to receive the Emperor’s Thanks in person back on Hokum. It was an honor that carried a weight that medals couldn’t match, and only fools would besmirch that honor when the Emperor can be called upon for a favor. Furdex gave an absent approving nod at his crew’s handiwork before resuming with his checklist.

     “Hey, Sarge,” said Licus over the comm. “I understand the need for removing ammo, the point defense strips, and even key parts of the weapons for the trip back home on the transport, but why are they going to remove the power pack once we’re on board? They’re going to lift Vice just high enough off the deck so the tires don’t make contact. Besides, if there’s a fire due to a malfunctioning power pack, they’ll just vent the deck to space and even eject the affected vehicle if necessary.”

     Furdex thought for a moment. “Well, that’s what they did, several centuries ago when power pack tech wasn’t as mature as it is now. They were integral gear, not swappable like they are now. The packs can be stored separately, and even in the remote chance one does catch fire it can be vented to vacuum or even ejected without losing a vehicle in the process.”

     Pendex’s familiar hum came before his words. “I imagine, Sarge, it must’ve been a common occurrence during the Civil War period. In history class it was said that a fair number of soldiers were killed and wounded when the armored vehicles of that time often caught fire in the holds of transports, most of them being attributed to fast, shoddy construction practices.”

     “You certainly can’t say that about our Vice, Pendex. After the Civil War the manufacturers were held to account and had to make Mongooses that didn’t burn at the slightest provocation. It was the power packs, and after some tinkering, they were made as safe as the Five Gods allowed them to be. The rail installation system was introduced at the same time. It wasn’t until an incident 200 years ago that led to the current policy of removing them during long-term ship transits. That incident involved a Mongoose that almost destroyed a Troubadour transport from the inside.”

     There was a collective sense of interest that somehow made its presence known over the comm channel. “Never heard about it, Sarge,” said Pendex. “I guess it’s something that doesn’t want to be common knowledge.”

     “That is correct, Pendex. I heard about it from the chief of this motor pool during a card game. His ancestor was the chief maintenance NCO of the regiment involved. That regiment took part in a three-month exercise in the Baserock Badlands on Golden Harp, two months of that was in field during the winter.”

     “I’ve been to that place, Sarge,” offered Spuran. “A family vacation when I was younger. Cold, damp, and frequent fog and mist. The only thing that made it worthwhile was the sunrises.”

     “A fact that probably wasn’t lost on the regiment. Anyway, the regiment completed the exercise, loaded up on the transport, and headed back to Hokum, a month-long trip so that the troops can decompress. Well, some of them found their own way to relax as they had somehow acquired some ‘local herbs and spices.’ One Mongoose driver, tripping the light fantastic and probably urged on by the God of Sports and Holidays, decided to have some fun. He got to the hold, did some work on the main internal hatch, persuaded the security guard in allowing access to a Mongoose to retrieve some personal gear, and then got into his ride and juiced it up, breaking free from the restraints and did three circuits around the hold.”

      Ferdex paused for a moment as he signed off on gear being handed over to a motor pool tech. “If you don’t know, the early Troubadours were civilian transports that received just the minimum of work to handle troops and their gear. Because of that, there were no major alterations to their interiors, including the large central passageway that ran most of the length of the ship. So, our herb stoked driver decided to find the onramp to Highway One. After the third lap he went down that central passage with the pedal pushed all the way down like any proper leadfoot. Care to guess what was at the end of that passageway?”

      “I’d say it was the ship’s bridge.” Licus sounded confident of her conclusion. “I recall an exploded view of a Troubadour’s interior in a databook about ships of the ISN.”

     “Must’ve been an early edition, Licus, but yes, you’re right. The Mongoose rammed the hatch and busted in. Half of the bridge crew were wounded and three killed as the Mongoose came to rest right in the middle of the helm station. Thankfully the ancestor of that motor pool chief I mentioned tripped the safety for the power pack and the ship was able to continue using its auxiliary control station in engineering. And that, my students, led to the policy of removing power packs for voyages over two weeks in length. Also, all Troubadours were refitted as time went by to have their bridges relocated two decks higher and all new ones were built to that standard. Along with that Troubadours used for army exercises were manned by naval instead of civilian crews and had Marines on guard duty.”

     Spuran harumphed over the comm channel. “I guess it’s a good thing that we’re going back home on that new class of transport. Twice the tonnage of a Troubadour and a lot more amenities, not to mention actual food instead of those microwave bricks. There’s also the benefits of the cultural exchange program, watching video entertainment from Commonwealth races.”

      “I wonder what they’ll think of our operas,” said Licus, “especially those about the Five Gods. The Harvest Festival on the Full Moon is essentially a three-hour dinner involving deities arguing on what to give to their mortal worshippers.”

     Pendex’s smile could practically be heard as he spoke into his mic. “I, for one, won’t envy them. I have it on good authority that were getting the follow up to the E’sani Planet of the Khanates series, appropriately titled Return to the Planet of the Khanates.”

     Licus came out from the back hatch of the Loaded Vice, handing over several comm board components to the motor pool tech. “Those E’sani are rather big, and with equally big single pair of arms to match. They made extensive use of practical effects with Minimal amount of computer generated imagery, and those animatronic masks they wear to represent the Khanate are quite convincing.”

     Ferdex looked at the biolume watch face he had tattooed into his left back wrist. “They should be finished offloading the fresh regiment in an hour. They’ll want us to get aboard as soon as possible and lift off by dawn tomorrow. The big brass is concerned the Comensal colonists may launch an attack to destroy the ship using backpack nukes while it’s still on the ground, minefields and gunpits be damned.”

     “So true, Sarge,” replied Spuran as he removed an inert defense strip. “The 30^th Regiment found a pair of thankfully faulty pack nukes at that grain silo in Tall Gate.” He snapped his right-rear fingers. “Oh, what’s the name of the race the E’sani portray in Khanates?”

     “It’s actually several very closely related races,” said Licus. “Collectively they’re called Apes.”