Chương 1308: 1338 - Halorian Strategy

Arks glimmered in the darkness, thousands of them moving among the stars in a display of power that usually left him awed. But Makarios had little time to be awed as he was all but pulled away by one of his adjutants right in the middle of his one-on-one negotiations with Leon Raime and confronted with an angry Antipatra. They had communicated with the ancient plane from one of his palaces on Urnos, one of his outer planes, so she hadn't had to go very far to find him.

He'd barely risen from his seat when she burst in through the door, the rare seramwood cracking from how forcefully she battered them aside. Her cold gaze found him and narrowed, her intense aura pressing down onto him and making him feel like he was trying to breathe with a band tightly tied around his ribs.

"You stayed with him," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

"I expected you to join me afterward. Yet I find you here, still in touch with that mongrel." With every word, she took a step closer, until she loomed over him, practically pushing him back into the seat.

"Well?" she demanded.

"What more did you have to say to him?" Makarios took a second to ruminate on his final exchange with Leon Raime. He hadn't lied during the brief 'meeting', such as it was; that dark plane had been devastated by the Thunderbird Clan, resulting in its current abyssal state. However, he was a pragmatic man. He'd been relieved to have Antipatra help defend his territory, but now that she had brought fleets of her own in, he could feel himself losing his political power.

In his mind, it was only a matter of time until Antipatra demanded an oath of service, taking him as a vassal and permanently ending his independence and isolation. He'd be dragged into Nexus politics, forced to participate in matters that did not concern him. He didn't think that matters would be any different for him if Leon Raime were his Lord, but that was what the negotiations were for.

And with Antipatra furiously glaring at him, waiting for his response, his belief that such negotiations were necessary was silently strengthened.

"I levied my terms for peace," Makarios carefully stated, noting how Antipatra's eyes flashed with anger."'Terms'?" she asked, her tone rising in pitch until it was faux sweet.

"Pray tell: what 'terms' are there to be discussed with those of polluted blood?" Feeling like he was tiptoeing through a field of broken glass, Makarios glanced at the small shrine in his comms room, upon which were the idols of the Nine-and-Nineteen—the nine gods and nineteen demigods of the World Beyond, the creators and lawgivers of the universe.

"The Strong-Armed Ruler only gives his favor to the righteous," Makarios stated as his knees began to shake under the weight of Antipatra's raging aura.

"I had to give him the chance to turn around so that we may be looked upon favorably from the Other Side." Antipatra audibly scoffed, but her aura abated, if only slightly.

"Idiot Planar Lords," she murmured, hardly bothering to keep him from hearing her. She refocused on him, raised a hand to his shoulder, and said seriously, "Khosrow is the Great Lord of humanity. We live in a universe of his creation. His teachings will give you more knowledge and certainty than anything your primitive gods will let you glean.

"Now…" She pulled him along as she strode toward the door, "You will coordinate your fleets with mine. Here, above this plane, the Thunderbird Clan will finally be eradicated…" She continued in the same vein, while Makarios turned his attention to the Voidspace around Urnos, noting just how many arks were gathering here.

'Are there any fleets left anywhere else?' he wondered.

"They've thinned their fleets throughout their outlying planes," Anshu said as he indicated the five planes of the Halorian Cluster closest to the Zer Cluster.

"They're gathering around here, close enough to reach Zer with only two or three jumps." There were twenty-two inhabited planes with the Halorian Cluster, and as many uninhabited planes of significant size. Instead of using that strategic depth, as Red-Knuckle had done when he based himself at Zar'Deracki, Antipatra and Makarios were staging their fleets as close to Leon's forces as was feasible.

"They're getting ready to attack," one officer pointed out—one of the newer Commodores, Leon noted.

"They've favored a more distributed defensive strategy so far," Red-Knuckle stated.

"I'm tempted to agree that they're readying an attack, but it could just be a shift in how they defend their territory."

"Concentrating fleet forces would make for a more effective strategy," Daryun offered.

"That's how I'd use my forces were I holding their lance. Leaving the initiative to us and remaining defensive would mean that we'd be able to overwhelm inadequate defenses easily, and any response would have to be mustered anyway. Mustering their forces now cuts down on time and hardens their main fleet against attack."

"Their numbers are swelling," Red-Knuckle observed.

"They're not just concentrating over a single plane. Have their patrols changed at all?"

"No," Anshu said.

"If they're going to attack, they're not preparing properly."

"That might only tell us that they're amateurs; they may still attack," Zhang pointed out.

"Their trap that we fell into would indicate that they're not amateurs," Red-Knuckle whispered. Leon wondered about that, though he didn't say so out loud. The trap was rather simple—draw Menander's fleet in, then strike while their back was turned. It may indicate a high degree of discipline and coordination, but Leon speculated whether Red-Knuckle might have wanted the enemy to be strong, if only to justify the defeat. He wasn't going to make such speculation, though.

He'd kill the enemy no matter how efficiently or not they were behaving.

"Are there strange-looking arks arriving?" Leon asked, immediately taking the attention of everyone in the room.

"Anything that might indicate a vassal is reinforcing their Lord?" Archelaus was his vassal now, but that didn't mean that Leon was going to demand that all of his arks be rebuilt in line with his standards, nor was he going to demand that he change all of his designs now that he'd sworn himself to Leon.

Since the same was also true of Illum and Ingrid, Leon imagined that it was likely true with a majority of Nexus Lords, so having a bunch of arks that didn't match any present forces would be a giveaway that another Lord had arrived.

"No," Anshu immediately replied.

"All of the arks now reinforcing the enemy fleet match present patterns. By our estimation, it's mostly Basilissa Antipatra's forces that are arriving, not Makarios'."

"She's committing serious resources," Anna whispered.

"She isn't based in the Great Strand of Rhea, is she?"

"Not as far as we know," Leon answered.

"She's based in the Great Strand of Arcus. She's close to a crossing point between Arcus and Rhea, though she'd have had to conquer quite a bit of territory to reach this deep into Rhea. Practically the whole breadth of this Great Strand…"

'If we beat her here, then what lies beyond might be left vulnerable,' he speculated. He'd only been planning on venturing about twenty percent of the way to Lorgos' territory during this campaign, but if the way was clear after this part of the campaign was over, then he might just keep going, especially since he knew that Jericho was worried Lorgos might be offering some support to Burning Lords close to his borders, which might include Antipatra herself…

"Have there been reports of any arks challenging the other Task Forces?" Lana asked Anshu.

"None," the Indradian answered.

"Antipatra is concentrating here, not along any other route."

"She wants to kill me," Leon stated definitively.

"She knows how many arks we have here. So she has to put her largest fleet here to counter me. But keep the other Task Forces on their toes, anyway. No need to risk them when we don't have to." If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Anshu bowed in acknowledgment. Such was already being done, but Leon wanted to state it aloud to make his will clear. Interrupting any further discussions, Red jumped in.

"Why are we waiting? We outnumber them. Let's just go and kill them!" Beside him, Leon felt the weight of Maia's agreement strike him like a hammer to the chest. However, he didn't rush to agree.

"They're preparing the battlefield," Leon said as he waved at the projection.

"Attacking now would be foolish. Instead, we should nip at their heels. Take bits out of them in other theaters."

"Divide their attention?" Red-Knuckle asked with a vicious grin.

"Force them to either abandon their position to confront us, or abandon their outlying planes…" Leon nodded. He cast his gaze around the room, pausing for a moment when he reached Xanthippe. The golden-haired Lion hadn't said anything throughout the meeting, but based on her roiling aura, he could tell that she wanted to get into the action and start rending the enemy with claw and fang. He refrained from mentioning another benefit of attacking the outer planes: applying pressure to Makarios.

He wanted the man to abandon his alliance with Antipatra, at the very least, which would take a huge chunk out of their combined fleet. Putting pressure on his planes would also put pressure on him to sign on with Leon, if only to get the destruction to stop. Whether or not Makarios would surrender didn't matter all that much, however; either way, Leon was going to have to deal with Antipatra's large fleet.

With Makarios, they equaled at least eighty percent of Leon's fleet, and it was growing with every passing hour. Without Makarios, Antipatra's fleet would amount to only about half of Leon's strength, as far as Leon estimated.

"What if they attack while we're busy 'nipping at their heels'?" Daryun asked.

"If I were them and my outer planes were getting hit, I'd launch into the enemy's territory to try and force them to come back and defend."

"Then we cut off their supply lines and flow of reinforcements," Leon said.

"We still have greater numbers than they do. We can afford to spread ourselves out, some." Daryun slowly nodded, not quite convinced but brought around enough to not press that point.

"What if they attack any of these detachments?" Anna asked.

"They'd naturally have numerical superiority if we don't commit the entire fleet." Leon frowned lightly, his hand stroking his chin a few times before saying, "Then we'll give them a reason to stay put. We'll advance close enough that they feel the need to stay where they are, and then send out specific detachments to deal with the rest of their outlying planes. If they move to aid the others under attack, then our main force charges in. We have the numerical superiority, so we should use it."

There wasn't much further discussion. Leon had made his opinion known, and while there were still some tactical and operational challenges, the officers in the room worked them out quickly. All that remained was to put their plan into action. And if everything went well, he'd soon be bringing Antipatra's head to the Lion Tribe's mausoleum…

In what felt like was going to become an increasingly rare moment of calm, Leon sat back on the lounge chair in Storm Herald's private compartments. Maia was with him, her head resting on his chest while her legs were draped over his. Their hearts beat in sync, something he could feel since she was tightly pressed against him, and neither of them was wearing any clothes.

Still, for all that she was resting calmly, Leon could feel a flutter through their connection, a sense of anticipation and restlessness that wouldn't abate no matter how many times his fingers ran down her spine or along her thighs. He pulsed through their connection, grabbing her attention. She didn't move, but he felt her senses home in on him. [What do you make of all this?] he asked her silently, not wanting to physically move more than he had to, not her so close to him.

[They should die,] Maia responded simply. [They are threats.] Leon was quiet for a long moment. Maia didn't deign to break it, clearly having thought her statement was enough. [One of the planes in this cluster is almost entirely ocean,] Leon mentioned. [Not colonized by humans…] Maia's hand twitched on his chest. She asked, [Are you asking if I want it?] [I'm asking if you want to visit. When we're done with all this. When our enemies lie dead at our feet.] Maia thought it over, weighing the matter carefully.

[I don't like the ocean,] she said. [Too salty. Too deep. But… I'll go where you go.] Leon smiled to cover up his heart rate accelerating for a moment before forcing it back in time with Maia. He was about to say something more, to try and provoke her into conversation, but she beat him to the punch. [It's been a while since we've been at war. Us, personally.] Leon did his best to hold her tighter against him. [Nervous?] He felt Maia frown against his chest. [Power is a good confidence booster. I'm more worried about Elise and Cassie.] Leon noted her inclusion of Cassandra, and he imagined that she'd have included Valeria, too, if his silver-haired wife were also back at home. He also understood her concern; Alderion was their biggest threat, and if he made a move while Leon was gone… [There's only one thing to do, then,] he said with a grin. [We need to win. And win quickly.] [Smash their skulls,] Maia said viciously. [Tear out their hearts. Make children upon their corpses.] [Heh. Maybe not that last one, but the other two…] Maia lifted her head to make eye contact with him, her lake blue eyes gleaming with desire. She pushed herself up, exposing all of herself to him. Her bronze skin glistened in the low light, while her aura contracted around them, growing thick enough to almost drown out everything else in their vicinity. She brought her lips in low, pressing them softly into his chest.

She went higher with every subsequent kiss, nibbling at his collarbone, then up his neck, and then to his jawline. Leon's hands explored her body, hitting all of her sensitive spots along their wide-ranging journey. She gasped as his fingers found the spot close to the base of her spine, just above her tailbone. She shivered when his hands continued downward, letting his fingers stroke her inner thighs. Leon could feel her intentions. She wanted to take control of what was about to happen.

HE could almost feel her lifting her leg to throw it over his waist and straddle him, ready to take him into her and bring them both to the heights of ecstasy. But he had other plans. She gasped as he suddenly seized her by the waist. She barely had the time to brace herself before Leon had her flipped onto her back, her legs parted around him. He could feel the heat of her pressed against his belly, and the slickness it left behind.

He grinned mischievously as he seized her lips, breaking the kiss after a moment to a moan of vexation, only to cause her breath to hitch as he began his southward journey. She shivered when his lips pressed against her neck. She moaned when his hands found her breasts, squeezing as he knew she wanted him to. With lip and tongue, he traced a line from neck to sternum, lavishing her chest with all the attention she craved, stoking the hunger he could feel rippling through their connection.

Her arms wrapped around his head as he moved from between her breasts to lavishing one with attention. The heat of her body was almost overwhelming, and she began to pant as he lightly nibbled at one peak of her chest, and then the other, easily pushing against her embrace of his head. Soon, he continued moving downward, kissing a path from her sternum down the central line of her defined abs.

Her hands found their way into his hair, and he could feel her trying to push him downward faster, but he paused, grabbed her wrists, and pulled them from his head. He hauled himself up so that he could do as she did moments ago and stare down into her eyes. A visible shiver ran from her toes to her head, and he pressed her arms into the cushion of the lounge. Only once she went still did he release her and return to making his way down her body.

A cry escaped her lips as he dragged his tongue past her waistline, and her inner thighs began to tremble. He could almost feel the nerves in her legs screaming at her to close around his head, but it was through titanic effort that she remained relatively still, neither her legs moving nor her arms, which remained where he'd left them. Finally, he moved down to the main course, wet and quivering with need.

He breathed in her fresh scent, reminding him of the grass and flowers that grew along the shores of Zan Ziba Lake, where the largest of her nymph colonies could be found. He tasted her, and she began to moan in earnest. He was energetic in his attentions, and soon, she lost control, her thighs closing around his head as she began to scream in delight. Rarely was she so vocal, and even with—or especially because —her toned thighs were around his head, he reveled in the pleasure he was giving her.

But as skilled as his tongue was, and for as much as he'd learned about her body over the past couple centuries, it wasn't enough for her. It couldn't scratch at that deepest itch; it couldn't sate that innermost hunger. He reluctantly pulled away, though he had to physically pry her thighs off of his head to begin his northward return. His eyes locked with hers, passing briefly over her flushed, sweaty, heart-shaped face, a ragged smile on her lips, and delighted anticipation gleaming in her eyes.

He crawled up, not spending as much time teasing as he did on the southward journey. Eventually, he found himself hovering over her, their noses almost touching, and his hardened length nudging at her entrance. He teased her one more time, rubbing himself through her nether lips, and it was only when she whimpered and wrapped her legs around his hips that he thrust. She accepted his first thrust easily, her arousal ushering him in further even as her natural tightness constricted around him.

When he bottomed out, she suddenly and almost painfully clenched around him, her eyes growing misty as a keening wail burst from her lips and echoed throughout the room. Leon smiled as she went limp several seconds later, his first thrust having already driven her to the heights of pleasure. But even then, she still wasn't done. As her eyes refocused, they found him and silently demanded that he continue. With a smile, he complied, giving his wife as much pleasure as he could.

It might be a while before they could get more than a few minutes to themselves, and he was going to make this time count.