“Commander, our scout ships have detected the enemy!”

This were the words that would shake the Republican spirit to the core. At this moment, the officers were holding another largely fruitless meeting.

As the forces of the Empire moved openly into the Ventii Starzone, a pitched battle was practically unavoidable. This was the nature of pitched battles in space; the Empire wished to deal a decisive blow to fend off the Republic’s attack, while the Republic sought to eliminate the Empire’s fleets, improve morale, and then move to the Thalassa Starzone and take the fortress.

Ventii Starzone comprised of a gargantuan star, with eleven large planets orbitting it. There was plenty of space between planets, and there were no asteroid belts or other objects. It was, in a sense, the perfect zone for a pitched fight. The Republic’s intelligence department had obtained a star-chart for this starzone, which nulled the Empire’s initial geographical advantage.

The first bar of the Battle of Ventii Starzone began when Battlefleet Wyvern detected ten thousand vessels, commanded by a golden ship. “What ship is it?” Admiral Orban demanded.

“It’s—it’s the Regalia, flagship of their princess!” his staff officer replied.

Admiral Orban immediately ordered an attack. His fleet at this point comprised only of ten thousand vessels, the other ten thousand having been broken up to scavenge for supplies. He relayed the information to Admiral Potiorek, who relayed this fateful order:

“All ships, converge on Battlefleet Wyvern’s position and crush the enemy! Capture the princess!”

The entire expedition fleet followed his orders. “Are we ... are we about to fight, Commander?” Lieutenant Black asked, a little giddy, a little nervous.

Abbas nodded his head. “I suppose so,” he said. A message was broadcasted to the whole fleet. “Reserve fleet: stay back. Battlefleets Dragon and Wyvern in front. The other fleets in the middle.”

Something immediately clicked in Abbas’ head. “Looks like he’s trying to deny the frontier fleets achievements,” he said to Lieutenant Black.

“Pardon, Commander?”

“I said what I said.” A certain snark was developing in Abbas.

Princess Katharin sat confidently in the commander’s chair in the Regalia, with an aide named Commodore Eierkutchen. Right now, her fleet was engaged with parts of Battlefleet Wyvern. “Princess, their entire fleet has almost arrived,” her aide said.

“As soon as they arrive and begin to attack, immediately retreat according to plan,” Princess Katharin ordered. Rarely did an imperial prince, much less a princess, lead the Empire’s military forces. Admiral Karl was not fond of it, and Katharin had to invoke her royal authority to override him.

Admiral Potiorek was grinning. This was the chance for glory! The old Marshal Popov is in his decline. He believed, with a triumph, Cadorna and he would be promoted to Marshal and become Joint Headquarters Chief and Supreme Commander of the Armada respectively; his “friends”, a ring of Whitmore politicians, would guarantee it. Then they could deal with that pesky Turtle Admiral and her ilk whenever and however they wanted.

It was with this sort of mentality that he ordered a frontal charge. The Royal Fleet’s division immediately ran away with no sort of order or resistance whatsoever; or so it looked like to untrained eyes, anyways.

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“Something looked wrong ... this is too easy,” Abbas muttered. “Lieutenant Black.”

“Yes, Commander?”

“Open comms to Rear Admiral Yue.”

A comms channel was opened. After saluting, Abbas began, “Rear Admiral, I believe we’re walking towards a trap.”

“I know,” Yue said, her face disgruntled. “The enemy is trying to lure us into attacking, whereupon we would be attacked in a pincer assault. Admirals Falkenhausen and Kadita are contacting the supreme commander, so focus on your task.”

Communications were cut off. Yue’s mood wasn’t the best, to put things lightly. The entire Republican fleet, under Admiral Potiorek’s orders, was steadily advancing at high speed, equal to the speed of the retreating imperial fleet. Another order flew:

“Reserve fleet, slow down.”

“Slow down the fleet, then,” Abbas said, his arms crossed. For some time, there was nothing left to do for Abbas.

“Commander, what did you mean ‘it’s too easy’ earlier?” Lieutenant Black asked.

“Put simply, the enemy’s withdrawal is too messy,” Abbas said. “Our opponent is the elite Royal Fleet. The enemy commander is skilled, but maybe too skilled. A less able commander would make it more natural.”

Two hours later, the gap between the reserve fleet and the main fleet was becoming quite large. Yue and Abbas were on constant communication.

“Do you think Princess Katharin’s the main enemy commander this time around?” he asked. There was a tense air and widespread unease in the oxygen.

“I don’t think so. Admiral Karl von Marbach is, probably,” Yue said. “All the reason to be vigilant. Well, Commodore, if you don’t mind, it’s time for lunch, and I’d like to take it with my men. Fare well.”

“Understood.”

Abbas didn’t realize his own hunger. A cook delivered him lunch which he ate on the bridge with his aide and the ship’s captain. Captain Bon was an elderly officer—almost seventy-five, three or four years above the standard retirement age--and he had many stories to tell.

This tall man, whose complexion was olive, had a far better mind for strategy than Abbas had expected, as it was tempered by experience. “The enemy ... would draw us in as far as possible. I have seen this before in Istoria,” he said.

“Then, how did the Republican commanders counter it?” Abbas asked as he drunk his coffee.

“Admiral Tang ....”

Captain Bon coughed for a while. His health was evidently not the best. “She let some of the ships to fall into the trap, while taking the rest into a wide detour and flank the enemy headquarters fleet.”

“Can we do something like that?” Lieutenant Black asked enthusiastically.

“Ten thousand ships wouldn’t be enough,” Abbas said. “And besides, it’d be against direct orders. We’d be court-martialed. Well, Rear Admiral Yue and I, that is.”

“Ugh,” Lieutenant Black complained. “It’s always the higher-ups, isn’t it? The top uniforms, the civilian government ....”

“In any case, we’re soldiers of a democracy. We follow the civilian government, and our superiors in the brass,” Abbas said sternly.

No matter how stupid they are, Abbas added in his heart.

Things were far more heated on the Imperial side. Ten thousand vessels fled away as hours passed. There was no possible opportunity to warp away under such persistent hounding. Of course, not that there was any reason to.

At some point, the Republic’s attack stopped. There was no way for Katharin to know it, but Admirals Falkenhausen and Kadita had managed to convince Admiral Potiorek to slow down.

“Oh no, we can’t have that. Fleet, turn around and engage the enemy, but prepare to feign retreat as before,” Katharin said calmly.

The fleet did as ordered. “Insolent rabble! Attack at full speed!” Admiral Potiorek maniacally shouted, banging the table. “Let’s show them the spirit of democratic republicanism!”

Admiral Karl von Marbach, commander of the fleets, and Vice Admiral Valentina, commander of the reserve, were waiting like hawks at the end of a long and wide trap; one that only such a formidable, experienced, and skilled admiral like Karl could even hope to start weaving.

“I’m quite worried about Her Royal Highness, Princess Katharin,” Vice Admiral Valentina said. “Is it seriously all right to allow her to be ... the bait?”

“Well, she’s the princess, so she outranks even me. If the princess wants it, what can I say?” Karl shot back. “Enough of this. If you wanted to protest, it would have been well to do so earlier. We’ll have to trigger the trap soon.”

“Of course. Forgive me.”

Four hours later, communications officers in Tiangong and Quetzalcoatl reported a chilling thing:

“Jamming signals! Communications lost with the main fleets!”