Chapter 1 - The Last Command
The Throne of God..
The bridge of the Dreadnought Invictus was silent save for the low, organic hum of its quantum core and the soft chime of data streams flowing through the air. Augustus Caesar stood before the main holotank, a sphere of light ten meters across that displayed the brutal, beautiful geometry of the Battle of Cygnus X-1. His hands were clasped behind his back, the platinum insignia of a Sector Admiral glittering on the collar of his black-and-silver uniform. At twenty-nine, his face was too young for the weight it carried, but his eyes—the cool, calculating grey of a deep-space asteroid—were ancient.
They reflected the carnage in the tank. A million pinpricks of light, each representing a capital ship from the Terran Concord's 7th Fleet, were arrayed in a defensive sphere around the Cygnus primary. Against them flowed the K'tharr armada—a seething, amorphous wave of crimson markers that didn't so much attack as consume, swallowing whole squadrons of Star Defenders in silent, terrifying bursts of light.
"Report," Augustus's voice was calm, a controlled baritone that carried across the vast chamber without needing to rise.
A voice, synthesized yet imbued with a respectful cadence, answered from a nearby terminal. "Tactical assessment stable, Admiral. The forward picket line is holding at 87% efficiency. K'tharr advance slowed by 4.3 percent." This was AION, the Artificial Intelligence Operational Nexus integrated into Invictus's systems. Its consciousness was housed in a crystal column that pulsed with a soft blue light.
"Efficiency is a decline from 92% ten minutes ago, AION," Augustus noted, his gaze never leaving a cluster of three Dreadnoughts whose shields were flaring a critical orange under concentrated fire. "They're testing the seam between the 42nd and 43rd Legion. Star Commodore Valerius, reinforce that vector. Use the Indomitable's battle group. Hammer-and-anvil pattern."
A holographic figure to his right, the image of a grizzled man on the bridge of the cruiser Indomitable, snapped a sharp salute. "At once, Sector Admiral." The figure flickered out.
From Augustus's other side, a human aide, Commander Lena Kallis, spoke up, her voice tight. "The Indomitable group is our last mobile reserve, sir. If the K'tharr break through elsewhere..."
"Then we will have held here eleven minutes longer, Commander," Augustus replied, his tone leaving no room for debate. "Our objective is not victory. It is time. Every second we bleed them here is a second for the Genesis Exodus to load another ten thousand souls." He finally turned from the tank, his eyes sweeping over his bridge crew. "AION, status of the evacuation?"
"The ark fleet Eternal Dawn reports 91.7% population stasis complete. The cultural and genetic archives are fully secured. Projected time to full evacuation readiness: seventeen minutes."
Seventeen minutes. An eternity. The Terran Concord, a civilization that had harnessed the energy of every star in the galaxy, that built Dyson Spheres as mere power plants, was being reduced to a handful of ships running for its life. And he, Sector Admiral Augustus Caesar, the youngest ever promoted after the triumph at Asphalt, was the man holding the door.
A new chime, this one urgent and deep, echoed through the bridge. A priority communiqué, flagged with the personal sigil of the Cosmic Imperator himself.
"Put it through," Augustus ordered.
The holotank shimmered, the battle display replaced by the face of Imperator Valerius. He was not on the pristine bridge of a ship, but in a bunker, the light flickering. The ancient leader's face, usually a mask of serene authority, was etched with a fatigue no life-extension tech could cure.
"Augustus," the Imperator's voice was strained, crackling with interference. "The situation is terminal. They are not just attacking our fleets. They are... unmaking our worlds. Cygnus Prime is gone. The capital... it's silent."
A cold knot tightened in Augustus's stomach. Cygnus Prime. Ten billion people. Gone.
"The High Command..." the Imperator continued, his eyes hollow. "We are being targeted. Systematically. Grand Admiral Feng is dead. Her ship... it just ceased to exist. Galaxy Marshal Vorlan's signal vanished twelve seconds ago. They are decapitating us, my boy. They know our structure."
The implications slammed into Augustus. The entire edifice of their civilization—from the Cosmic Imperator down through the Universal Regents, the Galaxy Marshals, the Grand Admirals—it was all being surgically removed.
"Your victory at Asphalt put you on the list, Augustus," the Imperator said, a grim smile touching his lips. "But your youth, your newness... it may have kept you from the very top. Listen to me. You must—"
The transmission dissolved into a scream of static. The hologram of Imperator Valerius fragmented into a million pixels of light and then vanished entirely.
For a moment, there was only silence on the bridge of the Invictus. The hum of the quantum core seemed deafening.
Commander Kallis was the first to speak, her voice a whisper. "The signal... it originated from the capital system. The source is... gone."
AION's voice was the only thing that remained unchanged. "Confirming. All channels to Imperial Command are offline. All quantum entanglement links to the offices of the Universal Regents, Galaxy Marshals, and Grand Admirals have terminated simultaneously. Scanning command network..."
The blue light in its core column flickered, a rare show of processing strain.
"Scan complete. Based on active fleet transponders and command authorization pings... Sector Admiral Augustus Caesar... you are now the highest-ranking military officer in the Terran Concord. The chain of command terminates with you."
The weight of those words pressed down on him, a physical force. He was no longer just a Sector Admiral defending a retreat. He was, in this instant, the sole surviving leader of a galactic civilization. The last of the High Command.
The ruin was complete. It was not his own, but that of everything he had sworn to protect.
He looked back at the holotank, which had reverted to the battle display. The crimson tide of the K'tharr was pushing deeper. The Invictus was no longer a command ship.
It was a throne.
And he was its lonely, terrified king.
"Then the responsibility is mine," he said, his voice hardening, the grief and shock forced down into a place where it would fuel him, not break him. "AION, new priority. Calculate the minimum force required to hold the line for seventeen minutes. All other assets are to begin a staged withdrawal to the Genesis Exodus rally point."
He turned to his communications officer. "And broadcast to the entire fleet. All frequencies. Tell them... tell them the Imperator is dead. Tell them command falls to me. And tell them to make these next seventeen minutes the finest in the history of our Concord."
The battle was lost. The war was over. Now, it was about salvation.
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