“Status report,” High Commander Nam Rood said calmly as another explosion caused Bavel to lurch.

He stood in the center of the command and control room, the nerve center of the Academy’s defenses. His aglets danced as he switched views of the battle outside, monitoring each of his squadrons. The stygian dark of space was interrupted by the countless streaks of heavy lasers and plasma fire, burning so hot and bright that the distant stars faded from view.

Directly in front of him in a semi-circle sat nine of the Faceless, commanders encased in a smooth white liquid, a nano-bot cocktail that fed them information. Each controlled an aspect of the defense grid, from the heavy weapon batteries to the energy shields - the entire base at their fingertips.

“Main batteries are still online. Minor damage to the outer shielding,” one of the Faceless answered.

“Ean Natum,” Nam Rood said.

The student stepped forward without a word.

“We have empty Juggers out there. I want you and your best pilots to fill them.”

“Yes, sir,” she snapped.

“You are to power up and hold the engineering bay. I don’t want you in direct combat unless absolutely necessary. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered, saluting her commanding officer.

“Good. Now go,” he said, not taking his eyes off the battlefield as he watched a squadron of his Dragoons slip out of formation.

“Neith, Trita, Pollux, Chaya, I need you to report to the Jugger bays ASAP,” Ean barked into her coms as she exited the room.

“Captain Morrigan, you are falling out of position, please tighten up your flight pattern,” Nam Rood called out.

“Yes, sir, sorry, sir,” came the apology. Nam Rood watched for a moment. Satisfied that their course had been corrected, he moved on to the next problem that needed his attention.

“Sir,” Enos said as she entered the room.

“Are the first years in the bunkers?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Join me here please.”

Without a word, Enos slipped on her aglets and took up position next to him. She seized control of the outer defenses, preparing the missile batteries.

“How long until they’re within firing range?” Nam Rood asked.

“At the current rate of approach, seven minutes,” another of the Faceless replied.

The Azrael were bombarding Bavel from long range as they slowed their approach, hovering just outside the range of Bavel’s defensive batteries.

Nam Rood had sent a volley of A.I. missiles to greet the invading force, but his strategy counted on Bavel’s hardened shielding winning the day. He was relieved he wouldn’t have to defeat the Azrael. Given the gap in fleet size and resources, it was unlikely he could. It was all a matter of time.

“Communications have been jammed,” one of the Faceless said.

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“How?”

“A Quantum Net.”

It didn’t matter. Their S.O.S. had been sent, re-enforcements would arrive shortly. The Quantum Net would ham-string their ability to coordinate the jump position for any incoming fleets, but that wouldn’t be enough to turn the tide of the battle in the favor of the Azrael.

“Sir, do we know how they found us?” Enos asked.

Nam Rood shook his head. He opened a com channel with the entire faculty. “If I could have your attention for a moment…”

The faces of his teachers appeared on his HUD. They were scattered throughout the Academy, some in hiding with the students, others helping mount the defenses.

“It is obvious that the Azrael have learned the location of the Academy. The question is, how.”

“It must have been leaked to them by a spy,” Shakkara said, his voice shaking. “Prior your order to go dark.”

Nam Rood nodded a single time. “I assure you, whoever it was, will be tried and executed as a traitor to the Alliance. Worse still, their spouse will be tortured and executed, and their children dashed to pieces upon the stones of the Temple at Chikara. The Five do not look kindly upon treason.”

The teachers grew even more somber.

“However, if the offending party comes forward now, and provides all the intel they have on the enemy forces, as well as what information they provided on our defenses, I can promise leniency. Your life will be forfeit, but perhaps your children will someday be able to redeem your family name.”

He was met with stone faced silence. Another explosion impacted the military base. Most of the teachers flinched, panicked by the sounds of war, something that most of them had only considered in the abstract until this moment.

“This is your last chance.”

“It was Jar Breson!” Shakrura shouted as another explosion shook the base, causing dust to rain down from the cracks and grooves in the ceiling.

Jar Breson snorted. “And we suppose you have proof to back up your wild accusations?”

“Not proof exactly,” Shakrura stuttered. “But you bear the brand of the Knights of the Veil! We’ve all seen it.”

Jar Breson’s smile faded.

“It is true, Jar Breson was once a member of the Knights of the Veil. But he was instrumental in dismantling their operations during the Sadrapa Inquest. He has been given a formal pardon by Pope Antiochus himself,” Nam Rood said, anger rising in his voice.

“We keep the brand as a reminder of our sins,” Jar Breson said, his fingers tracing the intertwined squares scarred into his hand.

“He teaches blasphemy,” Shakkara said. “The students have complained to us about it. He questions the sanctity of the Five, their divine authority, and the wisdom of the Yassa.”

“Enough!” Nam Rood shouted, his patience at an end. “Unless you have concrete evidence, I will not entertain wild theories and baseless accusations.”

He watched each of the teachers, studying their faces. They were difficult to read. Fear and paranoia filled their eyes. He hated to draw the Techno-priests into this mess, but once the battle was complete, he saw no way to avoid an inquisition.

“Unless you have received a direct order from me, you are each confined to your quarters for the duration of the battle,” he ordered. Expecting an argument, he was surprised that the teachers nodded gratefully and disbursed.

He closed the com channel.

“Do you think Jar could have betrayed our location?” Enos asked as she updated the flight patterns of their stealth fighters.

Nam Rood shook his head. “No. Of course not. I trust him as much as I trust you.”

For a few seconds, a small smile leaked through Enos cold mask. It disappeared as she gave orders to switch out the missile batteries.

“We’ve just got to focus on the battle at hand; we’ll deal with the intel leak if we survive.”

A group of seven Xaphan appeared on their screens as they burst from the belly of an Azrael Netzach class destroyer. Nam Rood looked over at Enos grimly.

This newest squadron made a total of fourteen Xaphan being brought to bear against Bavel. And in all likelihood, there were more being held in reserve for when the ground forces were engaged.

“Prepare to open fire,” Nam Rood ordered, as the Azrael fleet stopped their volley of long range missile fire. There was a moment of silence. A held breath before the howls of war were unleashed. Both sides waited for the onslaught.

And then it began. The Azrael fleets charged forward, past the invisible line that delineated the effective range of the defensive batteries of the military base. Hell was unleashed as a thousand laser and plasma cannons opened fire on the invading force. Missiles streaked in both directions, crossing paths and dancing past each other on their way to inflict death and destruction.

Nam Rood glanced at the clock in his HUD. Where were the re-enforcements? They should have been here by now. Sweat began to bead on his forehead as dread tied a knot in his stomach.

Something was wrong. Years of battle-tested instinct screamed at him.

“We need to target their Quantum Net and restore communications.”

“Yes, sir,” one of the Faceless answered.

He suddenly felt very alone.