Four fighters, two Rattlers and two Vipers, drifted over the gate. Their position suggested they lay in ambush for something, but their numbers matched that of an advance sentry. One of the pilots sang over their shared comms channel, but the group was otherwise mute. The video paused.

“Are you sure this is the right vid for your Specter battle?” Bill turned to his twin sister, who reclined on the couch beside him with her phone in hand. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to torture me with Ecks’ terrible voice.”

Rather than say anything, Sonnet looked back with her head tilted and eyebrow raised as if to ask, ‘Really?’

“Right, it’s uncut, just like I always ask for.” He sped up the video, looking for the Suns’ entrance.

Ever since the formation of the Temple Wraiths, he always looked forward to reviewing her gameplay recordings. At a minimum, Sonnet’s skills as a pilot brushed against the pinnacle of Parallax aces. But lately, the org’s battles, or perhaps their antics, reflected the epitome of gameplay for competitive players.

Beyond their entertainment factor, Bill also needed to scrape ideas from every source within reach as his org’s chief strategist. Thus, Sonnet’s record of the dominion war at Specter became of particular interest. Not only did the Temple Wraiths match the Crimson Suns despite being outnumbered, but the killboard data told him several unusual twists occurred over the battle’s course.

“The Suns arrive soon,” his sister said.

“So you guys were expecting them? Then where’s the rest of your fleet?”

His sister nodded. “Waiting on the other side.”

Other side? Could it be?

As promised, the Crimson Suns arrived in the system and approached the small flight of fighters. Bill reset the video to normal speed. While the fleet approached, Sonnet’s flight members dove into the gate one by one until only her Viper remained behind.

“Your guys learned about emergence prediction.” Bill didn’t need to ask; the flight’s actions perfectly mirrored a tactic used several times against him. “This is what BHL always did back when our dominions weren’t neighbors.”

Tapping at her phone’s screen, Sonnet nodded.

A wall of Duvi’s advanced against her ship. Rather than dive immediately, the Viper engaged its foes while dodging a maelstrom of plasma. Its shields glowed as waves of light painted her fighter. Finally, after avoiding two missiles with a spray of decoy, the lone Viper dove into the gate canopy first.

“Oh man, you stalled against a whole fleet solo?” Wide-eyed, Bill turned away from the ship’s dizzying movements. “How did you stay alive through all that?”

“Overclocked generator pod.”

“Ah.” Bill filled in the other details. If one substituted a generator module for the standard missile bay on a Viper they could effectively double the ship’s durability. Granted, the ship couldn’t carry missiles when doing so. “Aero might have made a mistake though,” he said. “If all you needed was emergence prediction, why risk the best pilot?”

She pointed to the screen, indicating he should keep watching. His answer would arrive within moments it seemed.

Sonnet’s Viper plunged into the white light at the gate’s end, and a few dozen friendly markers appeared on her map. Then, on its way to rejoin the Temple Wraiths’ fleet, the fighter skimmed by an asteroid and flew through the ion trail in its wake.

Huh? An ion trail? He checked again. Indeed, a faint blue glow spread behind the asteroid. Doesn’t that mean…

Then, his mind made the connection. The killboards reported that an unusual number of Suns had crashed in Specter instead of being destroyed by enemy attacks. Such a result was typical of large battles in asteroid fields. As half the crashes occurred before the Suns’ first kill, Bill had assumed the Suns were led on a chase through an asteroid field. The ion trail presented a different narrative.

Then, the Viper on screen slipped by a second asteroid, revealing the thrusters on its surface.

“Oh man. Really?” He couldn’t help but grin. “Like, you guys really ‘roid dropped the Suns? Twice?”

“Mmm...”

The result exceeded Bill’s wildest imagination. The Crimson Suns pushed their fleet through in the tightest formation possible with perfect timing. Their stream of ships flew straight into the rock, reinforcing in his mind the necessity of staying unpredictable. Bill also lamented the fact that this tactic would never again be as effective the video suggested. The Crimson Suns failed at operational secrecy, and within a week, anyone who cared would know of the events which transpired at Specter. As a brief delay in traversal would sidestep such a trap altogether, dropping an asteroid on emerging ships was unlikely to work so well ever again.

After the second asteroid fell into the gate, the remaining Suns fleet entered the Specter system. Unable to hold their defenses, Aero ordered a chaff strike as cover for a tactical retreat.

The Suns still outnumber the Wraiths, so their goal is to destroy the Wraiths fleet before advancing on the station. The Wraiths need to draw the Suns toward the station while sapping away their fleet strength. With both sides regrouping, Bill mulled over their potential actions of both sides. He contemplated what course of action he would take in each fleet commander’s position as well. The Suns’ course of action was obvious, but Bill couldn’t see a path to victory for the Wraiths. Did the Wraith’s fight knowing they’d lose?

The action on screen continued. Twice, Sonnet and her org ambushed the Suns from behind the chaff clouds, and twice, the Suns pushed them back with brute force, cutting down the Wraiths’ overall strength. Then, Aero snuck in a torpedo strike before their battle reached the space outside the defense station.

“I see.” Bill paused the recording as the battle reached what should be the final stage. “Because the Suns’ strengths lie in their perfect formations, they aren’t as effective or flexible at close range. By covering your ships with chaff, aside from the destroyer, Aero was able to counter– Wait, why are you looking at me like I’m crazy?”

“You’re overthinking again,” Sonnet said.

“It’s my job.” Bill shrugged. “But if that’s overthinking, what did Aero intend?”

“Um…” she looked toward the ceiling. “The Suns react slow, so keep surprising them… I guess?”

Could Aero be the instinctive type of FC? Bill considered her response. No, all those other recordings say otherwise. Sonnet is oversimplifying her explanation as usual.

More Wraiths made it to the station’s cover than what Bill had expected. However, the Suns fleet still had the strength to achieve victory through brute force alone. With the combat ongoing, Bill reevaluated the battle. While the station had stronger weapons and defenses than he first thought, the battle’s status still didn’t match its final results. Too many Suns ships pressed against the Wraiths. Though the Wraiths maneuvered around the station to maximize their advantages, and though each individual Wraith ship far outperformed its Suns counterpart, their fate appeared sealed. In order to end the battle as it did, Aero needed to land a decisive strike, which was improbable without having an obvious flagship to destroy. Bill crept to the edge of his seat. Show me, Aero. How will you flip the tables?

Then, the broadcast came, not from Aero, but from the org leader Sinn.

Now is the time? Bill questioned the Wraith’s judgment. How was that even possible at this point?

Given the respective fleet strengths at this stage of the battle, only a terrible mistake on Rico and the Crimson Suns’ side would allow the Temple Wraiths to escape. However, Bill knew that something akin to a natural disaster struck the Crimson Suns, as the kill logs indicated a majority of their players lost their ships in the last minutes of battle. So he watched.

He watched as the Temple Wraiths took cover under their station’s shields. The station started falling toward the gate, inching their forces toward safety.

He watched as the station’s shield radius shrank, exposing its outer modules. Weapons on those modules went silent. It was desperate attempt to conserve generator capacity. The Suns closed in for the kill.

How!? How do you turn this around!? Bill grasped at any hint on Aero’s thoughts. Every sign pointed toward the Wraiths’ annihilation, but Bill knew the battle’s result. Yet it seemed that not even the Wraiths had any idea on what Aero had planned, only that they believed he could pull things through. What did you do Aero?

The unshielded station modules returned to life, harassing the nearby Suns.

The Suns struck back, silencing the guns for good.

The station modules exploded.

Then, a glowing spray flooded the station’s space, decimating the Suns’ fighters and stripping shields off their frigates. At that moment, the Wraiths’ destroyer set off its last torpedoes, splitting the Suns’ fleet and opening an escape route. With the Crimson Suns in disarray, the Temple Wraiths broke for the gate. Once Sonnet followed the destroyer into the gate, the recording ended.

What just happened? Bill stared at the blank screen in shock. No. How did Aero do that with a defense station?

He knew the key to this battle was in the odd station design, but nothing indicated how such destruction was possible. He looked to his sister for answers. “Hey, Sonnet? Was your station constructed with that in mind?”

“Mmm…” His sister tilted her head in thought. “I’d have to ask Aero or Sinn. They designed it.”

“Then, what was inside those smaller modules?” Bill asked. “With the volume of liquid that sprayed out of them, there couldn’t have been much habitable space in them.”

“Mmm… ask them.”

She knew, but she didn’t say. Naturally, something more destructive than an asteroid drop couldn’t be shared easily, but Bill suspected the secret was simpler than it appeared.

“Right.” On his tablet, Bill began summarizing his thoughts on the battle. Whatever the phenomenon Aero exploited was, Bill needed to know; it could change the face of Parallax dominion wars forever. Considering the glow, he expected there to be obvious readings on thermal scans, but even that could force invaders to move as he desired. “Thanks for showing me the recording,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Don’t forget your promise,” his sister replied.

“No problem, I’ll meet with your org leaders.” With the rise of Sonnet’s org, Bill had expected that they would reach out to him soon. Now, watching the battle’s record gave him further reason to meet them. Though the twins had somewhat diverged in their interests, their relationship had always been cooperative rather than competitive, and Bill had no intention of altering that. “By the way, is it okay if I shared this on Orbital Chess?”

“Um… If you accept their request. I guess?”

“We’ll think about it,” Bill said. “I don’t get it though. If the Wraiths knew the Suns were attacking, wouldn’t it have been smarter to abandon the system? Why defend the system knowing you’d probably lose?”

She stood up and turned to the door. “Not telling.”

Ten sparks floated around a translucent table amid a backdrop of stars. This group, the Stars and Bars leadership council, convened twice a week in a private digital space to report status and intelligence and to plan upcoming actions of Parallax Gate's most prominent org. As their chief strategist and highest ranking fleet commander, Jazz Anders drifted to the left of Wright, their org leader, while he listened to Polo, their chief intelligence officer, reported on the movements of competing orgs.

“There’s no change since with the Innocent Bystanders last week,” Polo’s blue spark bobbed up and down. “Our agents confirmed that they'll finish consolidating their dominion assets within a week and return to their conquests around that time.”

Like any large org in Parallax, Stars and Bars dedicated many players toward gathering information of competing orgs, and using this network of informants and spies, the leadership council was able to foresee upcoming challenges and ward off any looming threats.

“I'm ninety percent certain it is Divide by Zero,” Jazz said, “but did your guys inside confirm their next target?”

“Yes, it’s DBZ.”

“What do we know about their new ship?” Wright asked, referring to the Bystander's first large ship.

“Won't be pretty for us.” Polo’s spark shook. “They're calling it a dreadnought, and construction will be completed in a few days.”

“What's so special about it?” Cogs, Jazz's lieutenant, asked. “One ship alone won’t overthrow a large dominion like ours or BHL.”

“From what we can tell, it would win one on one against any of our battleships,” Polo reported. “But the big problem is… they only took two weeks to build it.”

Silence overtook their meeting space. Everyone in Parallax knew large ships normally required three weeks of build time. If their surging rivals could streamline their ship manufacturing process to such a degree, then the downfall of Stars and Bars was but a matter of time.

“That Sid’s kicked common sense to the curb again.” Wright’s spark rolled in place. “Heavy, meet with Polo. Figure out how they do it.”

“Okay,” the dominion manager responded.

While their respective dominions had at seven gates between their borders, the Bystander's rapid rise to prominence weighed on the minds of each council member. Given their current trajectory, the org would soon overtake Black Hole Legion as the primary rival and threat to Stars and Bars, and each executive racked their minds for ways to counter their advance.

“Speaking of the Innocent Bystanders,” Wright mused, “their subordinate org embarrassed the Crimson Suns again.”

Subordinate? Jazz snorted, and his spark burst with light. With that leader, they’d be the most insubordinate group of players ever.

“What's so funny?” Wright asked.

“Sorry,” Jazz said, “The Temple Wraiths, right? Subordinate org isn't quite right.”

“Right,”Polo said. “My men are having some trouble cracking that nut. Not a single one of our applicants even got an interview, so Jazz is our only source of intel aside from public data.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jazz said. “The Wraiths have only recruited a single new member since that first battle with the Suns.”

“Explain to me Jazz,” Wright said. “Rico was commanding. He’s good, we’ve faced him before. How’d the Suns do so badly?”

“I watched the vid on Specter.” Jazz shuddered at the thought. “The short answer? Emergence prediction combined with double ‘roid drop. Thanks to that, all of Parallax will learn about emergence prediction within a week. But the big reason is that Aero– oh, that’s their FC, he sacrificed his defense station and wiped out half the Suns that way.”

“How?” Wright asked.

“Hard to describe, and I haven’t figured out the details” Jazz sighed. “I’m sure it’s simple, but I need more data.”

“So what will they do next?” Polo asked.

“I did hear more on their plans, but it’d be better if we talk Black Holes first.”

“’kay,” Wright’s spark wobbled and spun. “Heavy, is everything is on schedule?”

“It is,” the dominion manager replied. “Everything smaller than a destroyer has already reached its pilot or crew. We’ll have another two space priests ready by tomorrow and Polo’s new cruiser before our dive.”

“Great. Polo? What are those B-holes up to?”

“The usual recruiting and commissions,” Polo said. “Rumor has it they’ll strike at the Glaive system, but I don’t trust that.”

In order to overcome the difference in respective org power, Black Hole Legion often hired mercenary orgs. While such mercenary forces enabled them to match or exceed the strength of S&B in battle, it also offered Stars & Bars clear forewarning of any major incursions into their dominion. To counteract this, BHL leaders would spread false rumors and misinformation in an attempt to direct their rivals away from their true objectives.

Jazz mentally nodded. His spark waxed and waned. “So what do we know?”

“Sunday.” The spark before him brightened. “They’ll invade as early as noon.”

“Great,” Wright said. “Jazz, make sure we’re ready.”

“I’m already on it.”

“Now can you tell me what the Temple Wraiths’ll do next?”

Did they just jump onto your threat list? Jazz wondered. As far as he knew, Wright was only interested in orgs which he considered to be rivals or threats. With Sonnet’s membership in the org, Jazz never entertained that thought. “They’ll want to retake Specter,” Jazz stated, “and I’m sure they want to join our next action. Oh, I already agreed to a meeting with their leaders.”

“Meeting?” Wright asked. “Do you think we need ‘em on Sunday?”

“Need their help?” Jazz laughed. “Please.”

“Then why’re you meeting with them?"

“Because, their presence in the battle just might trigger the downfall of Black Hole Legion.”