Without the funds to fully replace their fleet, the Temple Wraiths had more pilots than they had ships. So, Aero equipped every Wraith member with some semblance of shooting skill an assault rifle and body armor, then pushed them into the marine squad under Legius’ command. Even April was shoehorned onto the bridge of a frigate so that one more man could join the boarding parties. Now, most the Wraiths mingled in the Phantasm’s staging area adjacent to their Jackknife transports. Legius sat in his usual position by the door with Sinn to his side, watching over the members of the overstaffed marine squad.

From a small display by the door, Aero looked to the two with concern in his eyes.

“Better than I expected, actually,” Legius replied. “I didn’t think half these guys could shoot.”

“Oh, come on!” Mayto interjected beside them. “Being pilots here doesn’t mean we’ve never played VR shooters before. Heck, I originally picked up PG for the marine action.”

“Then why were you living in a cockpit?” Wave jeered. Legius’ second in command had taken particular delight when drilling the fighter pilots in boarding tactics. It wasn’t often that Wave could have his way with opponents in the marine sims.

“Hey, fighters make far more money than marines.”

Before we showed up. Legius smiled.

“Really?” Wave asked. “Can you beat capturing a destroyer with sixteen rifles?”

Mayto pointed back, open is mouth to speak, then grimaced. “Damn it!”

“He got you there Mayto.” Sinn walked patted Mayto on the shoulder, chuckling. He then turned to face Aero on the viewscreen. “We’ve all played our fair share of shooters, Aero. We’ll be fine.”

Aero said.

“Will do,” Legius gave a lighthearted salute, and the picture blinked out. Then, Legius faced his crew. “Alright boys, gather ‘round. Time for a review session. Aero’s orders.”

The room’s chatter vanished as most the org crowded around him. Legius scanned the crowd, noting the mood of each member. To his surprise, excitement rather than nerves shone through the faces of his temporary marines. But as he expected, his usual crew, maintained their lax attitude. Legius then checked with Sinn, who nodded.

“Right. So Sinn and Wave’s teams will capture a priest ship. At the same time, I’ll take my team and Match’s onto a destroyer.” Legius put two maps up for display, one for each target ship class as provided by S&B. “The plan is the same for both ships. Like we practiced, two teams will breach the forward airlock, the one closest to the bridge. Then, all men will rush the bridge and make sure they don’t blow their own ship.”

According to the provided intelligence, mid-sized Black Hole Legion ships were designed with a single central corridor running from bow to stern, unlike the Phantasm. But like most ships, their bridges were located toward the bow, generator rooms at the center, and engine room at the aft. These made boarding and defensive action straightforward, but predictable. Also unlike the Phantasm, BHL designed their ships with the expectation of boarding parties and designed their ships with safeguards in place.

“As a reminder, BHL built zero cover for those moving toward the bridge, so two members of each team have man-portable shield units. Their capacitors won’t last long – another reason to move fast. But once the bridge is ours, it’s just ‘King of the Hill’ without respawn. Game’s over when all their security forces are defeated.”

“Can’t BHL send reinforcements from other ships?” Mayto asked.

“Leave those guys to Nova’s crew,” Sinn responded. “They’ll keep any transports from docking.”

If they don’t get shot down. Legius thought. He then continued his overview of the varying contingencies, including their plan for the event that one side be defeated and alternative approaches should resistance be too fierce. With all the variables, they had plenty to discuss until Aero interrupted them.

Aero announced.

Following their traversal, the Phantasm arrived in the Pyre System, where, upon their emergence, Aero’s scan results overwhelmed him with data. On his holomap, an immense fleet of medium ships clustered around Flare Gate in his proximity. But at the distant Whiskey Gate, countless ships merged together on the map to form an amorphous blob. On his screen, innumerable flashes revealed combat operations already in progress.

Sinn exclaimed.

Jake replied.

Eckos added.

Jake said.

Sinn groaned.

“Comms, comms, quiet down guys. Remember what we came for,” Aero chuckled. Following their prior experiences in dominion wars, facing against enemies far greater than their org no longer fazed them. Instead, Aero thought they’d become addicted to the battlefield. He turned to face the viewscreen. “Comms, hail the S&B flagship.”

The NPC acknowledged him and went to work. Moments later, Jazz Anders appeared on Aero’s screen, standing on the bridge of his battlecruiser.

“Jazz,” Aero nodded, “you aren’t too busy, I hope.”

Jazz motioned to the scene behind him, where dozens of NPCs operated in an orderly fashion.

“The Art of War?” You always quote it on Orbital Chess.

Just as Aero saw in Sid Griffen, Jazz Anders exuded the confidence of a commander. Perhaps even more so. With Black Hole Legion, Jazz Anders faced an opponent far greater than any the Innocent Bystanders had encountered.

“If that’s the case, why allow an unpredictable element such as our org onto the field?”

Jazz smirked.

“Err… right…” Aero couldn’t deny Jazz’s suspicions. With the Temple Wraiths' escort fleet down to two frigates and six fighters, any independent action against Black Hole Legion would draw unwanted attention and be tantamount to suicide.

Jazz looked off the screen.

“Something like that?” Aero chuckled.

Jazz shrugged.

“Thanks.” Aero nodded as the image blinked off. Then, he turned to his crew “Sensors, give me the ship count on screen. Ignore the fighters and bombers.”

Without even counting the single-seat spacecraft, the information came as a flood.

“Yes sir, Stars and Bars has five battlecruisers, two carriers, sixteen assault cruisers, three destroyers, sixteen generator ships, and two hundred sixteen frigates,” the NPC reported. “Black Hole Legion has four battlecruisers, two carriers, thirteen assault cruisers, six destroyers, fourteen generator ships, and two fifty-seven frigates.”

“Defense stations?”

“Two mid-size stations, out of position for the battle. It looks like BHL destroyed a third.”

Still, S&B has a slight advantage with the additional capital ship. BHL has a lot of frigates though, might be good to pick some off if we get a chance. Aero read over a summary displayed on his screen, which included everything Jazz had on BHL. He then picked a course of action. “Gunner, target any BHL frigates in range. Plasma cannons only, fire at will.”

The weapons officer confirmed his orders, and Aero refocused on his map. By his observation, Jazz prioritized the priest ships as targets but selected them seemingly at random. On whether it was based on some undisclosed strategy, or in fact at random, Aero chose not to ask. Instead, he studied S&B’s fleet, ingraining their actions in mind for future reference.

April appeared on the bridge screen.

“That’s right,” Aero responded. “Both sides have small ship fleets too large to squeeze through the gate. For them, it’s faster to load their fighter and frigate fleets onto a large ship then dump them out upon emergence. Also makes retreating from a system easier too.”

April glanced toward her frigate’s

“About a hundred fighters, plus frigates in the dozens or so.” Aero glanced at the holomap.

“Alright. Phantasm’s moving. All Wraiths, stick with me.” Aero ordered. “Helm, pull alongside the closer Stars and Bars carrier.”

“Yes sir.” The helmsman turned the yoke and nudged the ship’s throttle forward. After a lurch, the Phantasm cruised into the heart of the Stars and Bars fleet. Aero checked his map and confirmed the others followed him. Their group settled in the shadow of S&B’s carrier William Shatner, where its immense hull, rivaling the size of mid-size stations, towered over the Phantasm. Countless fighters and frigates flew alongside it, appearing more like bees around a hive than escorts guarding their charge.

April gasped.

How long have you been in this org now? Aero suppressed his laughter.

“Alright, sit tight guys.” He turned his attention on the forward BHL battlecruiser. At a glance, two generator ships floated in its proximity, alongside a destroyer and three assault cruisers. The collection of ships was formidable, but it’s position left it most vulnerable to his boarding parties. Unfortunately, the BHL fleet still had enough strength to prevent a clean escape. For the moment, that was.

Now we wait.

Relative to the speed of railguns, torpedoes, and plasma fire, the kilometer length battlecruisers and carriers were effectively stationary targets. Likewise, generator ships tethered to those capital ships could not maneuver either. So unlike the tactics-based combat of most PG battles, overseeing the dominion wars between its two largest orgs resembled the management of investment funds on a spreadsheet. Rather than concern himself with positioning, Jazz found it most optimal to consider battles as an exercise in numbers, one wherehe named the targets and managed generator and shield capacities.

On the bridge of his flagship, the battlecruiser Harrison Ford, Jazz pored over a stream ever-refreshing data. Numbers showing the strength of each fighter group, the status of his frigates’ armaments, and even the time to their generator overload all flickered on his screen in a symphony of color.

His frigate fleet had lost thirty-eight percent of its strength, while his fighters and bombers were down to half strength. The Black Hole forces, on the other hand, had lost forty-six percent of its frigates and fifty-four percent its fighters. Though his enemy’s initial forces outnumbered his, their respective losses left these fleets at even strength. Jazz could only smile at his opponents’ misfortune. What you get for hiring mercenaries without vetting.

Wright said.

Jazz checked his map for the position of the Phantasm. Just as Wright noted, they had moved right next to the carrier William Shatner, the crux of his small ship support where fighters and frigates refueled and reloaded mid-battle. While losing the carrier would be an immense setback for S&B, Jazz couldn’t think of any reason for the Wraiths to attack S&B. Rather, based on what he knew of the Wraiths’ objectives, it’d be counterproductive. “It’s fine Wright. Trust me.”

the org leader said.

“They’ve got this Wright. Didn’t you notice? Black Hole’s mercs can’t keep up at all, and Lyrical won’t know where to send his priests,” Jazz explained, referring to the BHL fleet commander. “Chances are better for the Wraiths this way.”

Jazz turned to another screen, one which tracked the status of the enemy capital and sub-capital ships, those of mid-size and larger. No issues appeared on that screen either. By those numbers, his primary target, the fifth priest ship, just reached a critical point in its shield output. His fleet’s secondary target, the enemy’s second priest ship, held steady. However, his small ships clashed with BHL’s in its vicinity, which protected his own forward sub-capital ships from their harassment.

“What’re our guests doing?” Jazz asked his sensors officer.

“Tango Delta has destroyed twelve enemy frigates, sir.”

That half explains the frigate numbers. Too bad they won’t help us with the priests.

Red flashed from the screen tracking his own ships. The priest ship Mary McDonnell neared critical shield levels. Its generator temperature also reached dangerous heights. Jazz checked his holomap for a nearby replacement.

“Comms. Have Cindy Morgan take Mary McDonnell’s place. Then shift Gina Torres to support George Takei.”

A beep sounded from his console. On his screen, the shield level of ship ‘BG8’ hit zero. Then, a flash from the direction of Whiskey Gate illuminated his bridge viewscreens – confirmation of their kill.

Priests always burn brightest. Jazz issued his new commands. "Primary destroyed. New primary is –"

A chime resounded from his command system, an alarm signifying opportunity rather than an emergency. He scanned his screen and found it; a capital ship no longer had generator support, its designation glowed blue among a mass of white text. Jazz smiled for the first time that day.

"New primary is Bravo Charlie two. All ships, attack Bravo Charlie two." Jazz focused his forces on the rearmost BHL carrier, the one left naked without a healer. Whoops and cheers sounded through his org’s comms. Targeting a capital ship signified a turning point in the battle. As his own capital ships remained safe, the order heralded the repulsion of their invaders and an impending victory. The entire S&B support fleet converged on their first large ship target.

Another chime sounded, another capital ship flashed blue on his screen. The blue flashing halted before he identified the ship. He glanced at the map, finding two priests in contact with his primary target. So Lyrical redistributed his healers…

“All ships, revise primary to Bravo Golf nine. New primary is Bravo Golf nine.” It made little sense to attack a carrier while two generator ships powered its shields. Thus, Jazz redirected his org back toward the supporting ships. However, the reorganization of BHL ships meant support thinned for another capital ship elsewhere.

Well Aero? Now’s your chance.

“We have our targets,” Aero announced. “The destroyer is marked Bravo Delta four. The priest is marked Bravo Golf one five. Again, that’s Bravo Delta four and Bravo Golf one five.”

Legius replied. A series of clangs echoed through the Phantasm’s hull as each of the four boarding craft disconnected.

“Nova, time for escort duty. Make sure the Jackknives reach their targets.”

Worried the guys would actually try sinking a priest? Aero grinned. “Stick with the plan. Stay alive. Keep transports away from the targets. Use your best judgment.”

Aero watched the lone flight of fighters take off after the transports. They were the org’s best in terms of skill and teamwork, but their lack of funds and small org size made the Wraiths' fighters insignificant against the armada they approached.

Now to help them out as best I can. Aero turned to his NPC crew.

“Helm, fall back toward Flare Gate.”

“Yes sir.” The crewman replied.

“Gunner, once the Jackknives reach midway, launch eight chaff torpedoes at each of the target ships.”

“That’s over half our torpedoes, sir.” The NPC looked back at him. Limited funding also meant purchasing the bare minimum of consumable armaments for the Wraiths’ ships. Following the second volley, they’d only have six torpedoes left over.

“I know,” Aero said. “We’re going all in on this.”

“Yes sir, targeting designated destroyer,” the gunner confirmed. “Salvo one, torpedoes away.”

Eight blue lights flew off towards Whiskey Gate, leaving a faint glow in their wake.

“Reloading, target set to designated generator ship,” the NPC reported. “Salvo two, torpedoes away.”

The next set of torpedoes shot off into the mass of indistinguishable ships. At this stage, there was little Aero could do beyond praying for the marines’ success. He dropped himself into the captain’s seat and watched the lights disappear into the distance.

Moments later, Sinn broke the silence of their org comms channel.

Legius said,

Why don’t I like the sound of this? Aero groaned. “Alright Sinn, spit it out. What are you scheming?”

“We’ve been over this already,” Aero sighed. “All you guys need to do is board that priest and destroyer, cut off some support for their lead battlecruiser and –”

Aero froze.

The battlecruiser.

“Damn it Sinn! You better not be thinking –”