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It was the prolonged length of time without contact that most concerned strategists. It was difficult to imagine why the Human fleet would willingly have gone so long without attempting contact, unless they had been destroyed. Sure, the recycling capabilities of their ships could allow them to standby almost indefinitely, but surely by now they would’ve either secured victory… or the alternative…

But, unable to assist—let alone find—the Human fleet, The Collective had turned its attention toward the refugee crisis. Deploying countless emergency medical teams to Earth, saving the few thousand that remained on the blackened orb, as well as constructing numerous defense stations throughout the Human Homesystem, lest another surprise attack be launched.

Having had the great fortune, or misfortune, of being in the right, or wrong, place at the right, or wrong, time, I had been assigned to Admiral Preyl’s personal detail, not as a bodyguard, nor even an advisor, though that was one of my new official roles. She said she liked to bounce her ideas off of me, through really I think she just felt an obligation to watch out for me. As though I was some Nymph, helpless without her guidance!

I also sensed that she had—much like Chyrkrady—a strong urge to mentor, and I guess that I—being one of the few still living who had known Chyrkrady, however briefly—was the ideal mentee.

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Initially, the Admiral had spent most of her time in the chambers of the High Council to rally an emergency armada to send in aid of General Halker’s stealth fleet, but, after the begrudging acceptance that they couldn’t be found: to garner support for the bolstering of The Collective’s force projection capabilities.

Surprisingly—given The Collective’s historical reluctance to fund the military-industrial complex—this hadn’t been too hard to do. Or perhaps, in light of everything, it really wasn’t that surprising. Of course there had been a little resistance, The Collective hadn’t known true war in over a thousand Cycles and there were some who’d insisted that the militarization of our society was a mistake. But for the vast majority, these unprecedented attacks were more than reason enough to divert resources and upend the heretofore normal routine.

This was especially true of The Collective’s longest lived races, the ones whose elders were alive during the last Hundred-Cycle war.

Within 10 MilliCycles of the attacks, the Bloorkäm had voted unanimously in favor of the Human offensive and the Tsch’laxiyan Authority had announced their unconditional support for what most were now calling the war effort.

And while the High Council had not made a formal declaration of war, their official position was that The Hegemony’s attacks were illegal and unjustified, and that any and all measures must be taken to prevent such incidents in the future, up-to-and-including preemptive strikes on Hegemony assets.

So, within 100 MilliCycles of the attacks—and with the full backing and authority of The Collective—Admiral Preyl had been put in command of the counter-offensive and the largest Warfleet in The Collective’s history.

Her fleet had quickly destroyed all known Hegemony outposts on the borders of Contested Space, but after that, with the rest of The Hegemony seemingly retreated into the unmapped Far Reaches, Admiral Preyl had had to wait…and wait…and wait…