General Quril’s talons dug into the war table aboard the Murmuration as he inspected a holographic representation of the battle above Aglostarros. Tiny flocks of starships darted nimbly about, but too few of them were his. Already, his cadre of Plume-class fighters had been decimated, and the Murmuration was on its last salvo of grav-torpedoes.
The Empire had been foolish to seek this fight, but Quril himself could hardly be blamed for their defeat. For one, his Empress must know the folly of pursuing an enemy into its nest; for another, Queil intelligence had only reported on the Conglomerate’s standing military strength, neglecting to mention their ability to levy a vast and eclectic mercenary fleet at a moment’s notice. Their opponents had no honour, no code or creed. They were only here for the money - for coin! - and that made them unpredictable.
Resisting the urge to spit, Quril quelled his anger and used a shaking talon to set a rally point on the holographic map, somewhere out in the Exploration Zone. “All wings, disengage and fall back,” he ordered via the fleet comm, before passing the same command to the Murmuration’s pilots.
They couldn’t return to the Empire empty-handed. Military failures were not tolerated among the Queil, lest one end up like once-Admiral Shoroq, or worse. Somehow, they had to find - and win - a battle worthy of their Empire. Only then could they go home.
As the Murmuration lurched into its FTL jump, General Quril felt his tattered resolve returning.
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