[i]I came into a place void of all light,
which bellows like the sea in tempest[/i]
- Dante, the Inferno

[b]One Year Ago, shortly after the Battle of Archangel, on the outskirts of the Maalik System...[/b]

Captain von Grimnour sat slumped in her command throne, mind divided between the [i]Lionhead[/i]'s Semi-Sentience- feeding her a constant stream of updated data- and the activity on the bridge. Officers bustled between computer banks and Lieutenant Travini paced slowly in front of the strategic holodisplay, tugging at his side whiskers and barking the occasional order.  

An hour ago, a Jihadist fleet had emerged from the far side of the Charon Belt, and was now forming up to meet the Royal squadron. A big Jihadist fleet. Well organized. With a battleship.

"How in Ovo's Six fucking Names did they get around us, Lieutenant? With a godsfucked [i]Imperatrix[/i]?!" the Captain spat. 

Travini merely frowned and continued pacing.

Naval Intelligence had bungled, badly. The Arian fleets were supposed to be falling back from the Maalik System in panic, turning on each other. Grimnour's squadron was merely supposed to clean up the stragglers and scout out any remaining enemy ships of note.

[i]Some fucking stragglers.[/i] the captain thought, glaring as she watched the holodisplay.

The Jihadist ships were coming on in serried rows, five heavy cruisers flanking an [i]Imperatrix-class[/i] battleship, a 10km behemoth that the Lionhead's memory banks identified as the [i]Demiurge[/i], the flagship of one of Arius' chief Void-Heirophants. Apparently His Unapproachable Majesty the King [i]hadn't[/i] smashed his enemies at Archangel [i]quite[/i] thoroughly.

Escort craft hovered around the enemy super-ship like carrion birds around some ancient predator.

Comms from the [i]Lionhead[/i]'s escorts began pinging the bridge. Commanders and captains requesting orders. 

"We'll be in the [i]Demiurge[/i]'s primary ordinance range in twenty," said Lt. Travini.

Grimnour cursed. She had ten ships under her command, five frigates, a hunter-killer pair of destroyers, and two cruisers besides the [i]Lionhead[/i]. Caught off guard, with a major enemy strikeforce advancing between them and the nearest viable subspace translation point, her odds were abysmal. The [i]Lionhead[/i]'s Semi-Sentience blurted a neuropulse with its terse agreement.

Grimnour scanned the holodisplay. She saw her least terrible option.

"This is [i]Lionhead[/i] to squadron." she declared over her comms, "They expect us to make a run for it, to drive us deeper into this system. Fuck that. Sure we'll run for it- straight through them. Bisect their fleet and translate as soon as your engines can take it. It's been a pleasure serving with you. That is all."

The commlink erupted with the grim affirmatives of her escort vessels.

The Royal Squadron assumed its offensive formation, the Indoril-class cruisers [i]Count van Fesselvingen[/i] and [i]Pride of Adriatus[/i] following the Fisher-class [i]Lionhead[/i] in the line of battle, with the squadron's frigates and destroyers in defensive positions between the larger ships.

"Shields up, strike craft launch." barked Grimnour. A bright azure flash illumined the bridge windows for a half-second as the [i]Lionhead[/i]'s shields ignited. All along the Royal squadron, fighter-bombers launched from shipboard hangers as shields enveloped the serrated-dagger hulls of His Majesty's Navy.

The Arian fleet powered forward to meet their civilized foes, broadcasting their battle-liturgies on the open comm-channels, demanding obeisance to their dreadful and immanent gods. But they had slowed somewhat, perhaps confused by their enemy's unexpected counter-charge.

"Enemy fleet entering mass driver range in five." Travini announced.

Alarms sounded in the bridge as sensors picked up multiple enemy lock-ons.

Grimnour closed her eyes and allowed her mind to integrate fully with the [i]Lionhead[/i]'s semisentience. For one deliriously delicious moment she [i]was[/i] the ship, her heart beating in sympathy with the thrum of the massive engines, burning with the ferocity of small sun. She inhaled slowly, feeling the heavy cannon on her flanks rotate as they locked on to enemy vessels, the torpedoes sitting in the launch tubes, their dim AIs buzzing impatiently for release. Her skin prickled, suddenly alert to the electric ripples in the [i]Lionhead[/i]'s void-shields as they realigned and adjusted to meet incoming projectiles. She could see the outlines of her enemies, painted bright against the void by the ship's targeting systems, looming closer and closer. She could feel the eagerness of their bloodthirsty AIs.

She gave the order to fire without speaking. She willed it, and the [i]Lionhead[/i] obliged.

Then the bloodletting began.

The fleets opened up with long range mass-volleys and lance fire. The forward guns on the [i]Demiurge[/i] gutted three Valyrian frigates outright and scored solid hits on the cruisers. The [i]Count van Fesselvingen[/i] took a mass-round to the nose, and sped on towards the enemy trailing hunks of armor. The [i]Lionhead[/i]'s sheilds rippled and sparked as they absorbed the worse of the enemy's wrath.

Grimnour eased out of full integration with her ship, suppressing a twinge of panic as the [i]Demiurge[/i] loomed ever closer in on the holographic battle display in the center of the bridge, and as her shields deflected heavier and heavier fire. She glanced at Travini, whose bewhiskered face was bright red... but who was otherwise calm, sedately polishing his monocle and shouting the occasional order.

"Mister Ryloth, ready the back breakers," he said as the fleets drew within primary ordinance range.

Outside, in the vacuum, the Royal and Arian strike craft wings collided into spiraling dogfights just as the Royal ships launched their first torpedo waves. 

Nuclear detonations and EMP bursts erupted along the barbarian line... and then the two fleets collided.

The void was alight with tracer fire and heavy laser exchanges. The Royal ships made their pass to the port side of the [i]Demiurge[/i], raking the monstrosity with fire. The supership's guns remained silent a moment, enough time for Grimnour to allow herself the hope that it was suffering a massive malfunction.

The [i]Demiurge[/i]'s first broadside obliterated the [i]Pride of Adriatus[/i] and took out the bridge tower on the [i]Fesselvingen[/i]. It's shields popped by the onslaught, the [i]Lionhead[/i] returned fire vigorously as explosions erupted along its serrated-dagger hull.

Alarms sounded on the bridge. The captain's neural uplink sent her flashes of pain as the [i]Lionhead[/i]'s semisentience registered damage.

"Travini, divert all power from the guns to engines! We'll-"

There was a bright flash and a noise like a scream, and then silence as the bridge opened to the void. Grimnour clung to her command throne as her lieutenant and officers were sucked through the [i]Lionhead[/i]'s burning wound and up into the airless night.