Free The Phoenix Requiem (The Phoenix Conspiracy Series Book 7) by Richard Sanders Page B

and the people of Centuria V were gone now. That meant the Dread Fleet was on the move again. It was a slow force—at least as slow as its slowest ship—but its massive, lumbering, colossal self had the luxury of moving slowly and methodically because its commanders knew that nothing existed that could hope to oppose them.
    And yet, here we are, about to try again , Ravinder thought, just as her ship came out of alteredspace on the outskirts of Capital System.
    “Sir, we have arrived in Capital System,” announced her chief navigator.
    “I can see that, Lieutenant,” she said, seeing the stars that now filled the windows rather than the pure empty blackness. Most of the rest of the surviving fleet had arrived as well, or soon would, although these surviving ships were now subject to re-assignments, the force split up and added piecemeal to other fleets. Other than the Hyperion there were no longer any forces under Ravinder’s command. And , she thought, that is probably for the best .
    “Ops, I want a full scan of the system on the 3D display; let’s see how much firepower we’ve got.”
    “Yes, sir!”
    A moment later, Capital World materialized, the zoom adjusted until several small dots could be seen, each one representing an Imperial warship. In all, there were hundreds of them. It was an encouraging sight to see such a force, even though Ravinder knew firsthand that they were still significantly outnumbered by the Dread Fleet. At least we won’t go down easily , she thought.
    “Sir, we are being hailed,” announced the Comms Chief. He looked to Ravinder, then back to his console—as if to check something—then back to Ravinder once more. “The hail is originating from…the Ancient palace.”
    “What?” asked Ravinder, unable to help herself. Of course she expected to be hailed the moment she arrived within the system, but by Sir Arkwright or another knight, not by Queen Kalila herself. And if the hail was originating from the Ancient Palace—probably because the main palace had been bombed by that traitor Asari Raidan—then who else could it be but the queen?
    Ravinder felt her heart in her throat as she stood up. “Send it to my office; I’ll take it in there,” she instructed her officers, as she walked briskly in the direction of her office. With each footstep, she could feel the condemnation that she was about to receive—the condemnation she deserved for her failure at Centuria V.
    I deserve this , she thought. This is right . No doubt, the Queen intended to pin the blame for the loss of Centuria V onto Ravinder, and why shouldn’t she? Ravinder had been the one meant to first engage the enemy; she had deployed the First Fleet personally, and above all, she had been one of the many to turn and run when the battle got away from them. She hadn’t wanted to—she’d just been following orders—but regardless of her reasons and excuses, she had run from the enemy. And now there were billions of lives lost. No doubt the rest of the Empire demanded an answer for all that blood, and the queen had to hang the millstone around somebody’s neck. It might as well fall upon the one who had led the charge, especially when that same person, despite following orders to do so, had also led the retreat.
    I did not deserve to be a Fleet Commander , Ravinder reflected, as she reached her office and the door closed behind her. It should have been someone else. Someone more capable. Someone more worthy. Perhaps…perhaps then…just maybe those people would still be alive. If only someone more intelligent than myself had been given the charge .
    Although, in a way, it was fitting. Ever since the defeat at Centuria V had become inevitable, and Sir Arkwright had given her the order to retreat, Ravinder had felt a powerful urge to apologize to someone, anyone , everyone . And who better to confess her failure to than the queen herself?
    She activated the terminal and then stood facing it, feeling her pulse