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There is no dignity here A southerly wind prevails As we beat our fists against our hearts, the ceregs and used toilets drifts up from the bodies The infantry maintain their ranks, but support and naval round co concrete

The bodies are arrayed to be cre ships of war The battle-scarred Morning Star looht long Four torchShips lie in her shadow, and the rickety remains of one destroyer Frouns and pause their labor to watch HowStar saved us? By the looks of her hull and the wounds she sustained froain

Some will call the Battle of the Ladon a victory for the Republic I cannot With Naran falling the night before, we have lost all theor dead Just over five million survive to huddle beneath the shields of Heliopolis Supplies dwindle, especially the anti-rads Most were in Tyche Barely one-third of my men are fit for duty, even by our elastic standards Our tank regis down to two hundred operational craft Drachenjägers reduced to seven hundred All that protects us fro bombarded is the shield overhead All that protects us fro overrun are the storms beyond, and Atalantia’s fear of what new horror I’ll conjure

Despite our vulnerability, Atalantia has not opted for another frontal attack on Heliopolis Instead, with us trapped inside, she extends her grip over the storhtful patience of an anaconda It means no relief fleet is on its way

But I must have hurt her badly

By our estimates she lost twice as many as we did, most to the storm on the northern coast of Helios The military camps of Venus can always provide her fresh bodies, but her precious veterans are irreplaceable—XIII Dracones, Ash Guard, Fulion, the Iron Leopards With the Iron Leopards captured or killed, a third of the Ash Guard drowned in Tyche, Fulminata pounded by Thraxa outside Heliopolis, how er They are needed for the Republic She ait for reinforce ra we can do to stop them

All know it

A officers, Harnassus stands like an old sea captain squinting into salt spray Even though she suffered grievous burns in the battle, Thraxa’s shoulders loom over the heads of the Gray, Gold, and Red infantry cost the naval officers, there is an absence For ten years the Blues orbited around Orion with the fidelity of one, and the moons drift untethered They will need a new leader

But froht have flown the Morning Star through hell, but he is no leader All one Halfcoh officers who cannot be replaced Officers who earned their bars and then their wings under Orion and reed Ho politicians of Skyhall?

I can only pillage the Ecliptic Guard so far before it is staffed completely by children

I turn to my lancers and find no one there Not Alexandar, not Rhonna, only Screwface He’s taken weight off my shoulders since his return Elated to be back with his own, he seey to spare I envy hie skill set to work clearing the city of dissidents and any spies the Fear Knight snuck in “Where’s Rhonna?” I ask him

“Tunnels again”

“Colloway?”

“He split fros-up by 0430”

“He went out again?”