Now it would get hairy, as far as Jessica was concerned. There was simply no way that the entire force could drop into RealSpace quietly. Somebody would notice, and react.
Hell, in the old days, she would occasionally blip into the edge of an Imperial system just to spook the locals, as well as scout what they had. If you caught the defense forces out of position, comfortable or careless, you could always surge down and blow things up. Or maybe capture or at least frighten a freighter enough to make it worth the trip.
Today, she was facing one of Buran’s mightiest fighting squadrons, all rolled up in one monstrous war entity known as Steadfast at Dawn. An even match for firepower, if the two sides could ever actually be measured against each other.
Buran built its ships for the Capriole Drive. Jump anywhere over a short distance, including inside gravity wells where a JumpSail couldn’t manage. Primarily short-range beams designed to maximize damage in that very brief window before the ship leapt away.
And the Mag-Shear. The thing Imperials called the Mauler. Standard shields barely deflected it and the transverse forces would shake a vessel apart.
To fight them, she had an Expeditionary Fleet designed by Yan Bedrov from personal experience, backed with every bit of intelligence and research Fribourg had accumulated, bestowed by the Emperor himself upon the semi-reformed pirate.
Shields tuned slightly differently, but hopefully enough to better deflect the Mauler beam. Physical insulation on both sides of the hull, designed again to limit the impact of a magnetic shear resonance. But for those munitions aboard Auberon, not a single missile in the squadron, since those were useless against a target that could simply vanish.
Best of all, Moirrey’s Type-3-Tuned, which could be set to long range, sacrificing damage; or set for damage, sacrificing reach. Perfect for inflicting punishment at the sort of ranges at which Buran wanted to engage. And the Type-1-Pulse, based on the Flicker Beams Buran used, because, as Yan had explained every time someone asked, “Some bastard will fire a salvo of drones on a pass, one of these days...”
And now, she was ready to bet all their lives on Yan’s design skill and her ship-handling.
The Flag Bridge was charged with emotion. She could tell that by looking around at the expectant faces, some of whom had been with her for nearly a decade now.
Jessica looked down at the images on her screen. Every Command Centurion was present. Most of their Tactical Officers were listening in for final tidbits.
Poised.
Jessica smiled at all of them. This was that moment, according to all the training guides, when she made the speech to motivate them before battle. And she had always been a master of it, but today was going to be different.
She had taken the three hour gap and prepared a surprise for her team. A good reminder of why they were here.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, in a very short time we will leap into battle,” Jessica said simply, by way of introduction. “This is where your commander reminds you of martial glories, proud histories, and fanciful dreams of the future. But we have with us a better representative of what today really means. Lady Casey, Princess Kasimira, Centurion zu Wiegand, the floor is yours.”
It was educational, watching the faces on her screen respond with shock. They all knew who Casey was, but only a few of them had any opportunity before now to spend much time around the woman.
The once and possibly future Emperor of Fribourg, Karl VIII.
“When I was a child, Aquitaine was the most evil thing in the galaxy, to hear my father and Uncle Em talk,” Casey began in a voice that reminded people that she wasn’t a junior officer suddenly called to speak before her elders. The young woman was an Emperor made flesh. “I believed that, even as a woman named Keller rocked the entire empire. Time and again she defeated or fought to a standstill the very Red Admiral who was the Empire, as far as the Fleet and the populace were concerned.”
She paused, fixing her gaze on the assembled team she was now a part of, on Jessica’s Flag Bridge.
“Buran was always a strange bogeyman on the distant frontier, core and spinward from St. Legier,” she continued in a story-telling voice. “I was not old enough to understand that we were losing our war with Buran, even as we were defeating Aquitaine. When Keller came to St. Legier, she was a fanciful barbarian, a queen from the farthest reaches of space, a tale of romantic loss, and worse, a woman commanding a star fleet. For us of the Empire, the only things more frightful were the ancient Sentiences that once nearly destroyed humanity.”
Casey turned back and fixed her eyes on Jessica now. Jessica felt like she could see the soul of the young woman: the artist, the poet, the dreamer upon whose shoulders Jessica intended to fully dismantle the patriarchy that was Fribourg, even as she set out to destroy the being who might truly represent the Last of the Immortals.
They shared a secret smile, as if Casey knew what she was thinking.
“But she was also my friend at that moment when I had nothing,” Casey said. “The person who held the entire empire together when my foolish cousin might have torn it asunder. I was there, holding the Earth Sword itself, when Emmerich Wachturm became Grand Admiral of the Fleet. I will never forget the utter silence when I called Jessica to serve in his place. Nor the eruption of pure joy that greeted her. Instead of remaining our most implacable foe, she had become our closest friend. Instead of trapping Fribourg between, like a nut to be cracked, she chose to help us drive the demon of Buran from our realm.”
Casey took a deep breath, visibly overcome with emotion, but willing to share even that with the crews who would go into battle today.
“Instead of destroying my home, Jessica has become that which will protect it,” Casey’s voice cracked now. Jessica had a hard time keeping her own emotions in check. “Instead of being my enemies, all of you have become my friends. You have accepted me into your ranks as one of you, that I may help bear your burden. That I may share in your glory as we face that most-ancient, most-evil of foes. And if it should become necessary, it will be my honor to die in battle with you. Thank you. I can think of no higher gift that you could give me, than to be one of you.”
There were many sniffs, both in the room and across the comm, not that Jessica begrudged them for an instant. They had accepted Casey, and she had proven herself worthy.
“Admiral Keller,” Casey said through tears. “You have the flag.”
Jessica swallowed before she spoke. Never had she expected something like that, even from a poet like Casey. She supposed she should have known better, having memorized the woman’s symphonies.
“First Expeditionary Fleet, this is Admiral Keller. I have the flag,” Jessica forced her voice to command register. “All hands to battle stations.”