Disclaimer: I do not Legend of the Galactic Heroes. It is owned by Yoshiki Tanaka.

Our Universe

Chapter 13

At 0700 hours on February 10, Universal Calendar 799, Imperial Calendar 490, the Battle of Rantemario resumed with a devastating, long-range bombardment from the Imperial Fleet. The Alliance Combined Fleet rose to the challenge, maintaining a solid formation and returning fire even as they took it from nearly all directions save for their rear.

It was an hour into the battle that Bucock gave new orders. "All ships, begin giving way." He ordered. "Maintain the formation, but withdraw behind the debris of the battle. At the same, all carriers launch your Spartanian squadrons. Afterwards, the carriers and battleships will form up into a mobile reserve, and concentrate their fire at the enemy's spearheads as they push forward against us. Use the debris as cover if you need to."

The ordered were relayed, and within minutes the Combined Fleet began to proceed as per their commander's orders. The Imperials initially made no reaction, but twenty minutes on and probes in strength were being launched from the left and right wings, with squadrons from the Reuenthal and Mittermeier Fleets.

"Spartanian squadrons," Chung ordered. "Avoid destroying the Imperial ships as they push forward. Instead, use the debris as cover on approach, and outflanking the enemy ships target their engines. Leave them dead in the water!"

Chung listened to the response for several more moments, and then replaced the field telephone back onto its cradle. "My apologies," he said to Bucock. "I understand that we're essentially resorting to Human shield tactics by this point, but given our situation…"

Bucock nodded as Chung trailed off. "It can't be helped." He said. "We have to do everything we can to hold the line here."

"At least until the Iserlohn Fleet arrives." Chung said, and Bucock nodded again.

"Then what?" Soun asked.

"Then…depending on our losses…no, considering the losses we'll likely take until then," Bucock reluctantly admitted. "We'll have to retreat, and leave the battlefield to the enemy."

"What?" Soun gasped.

"It's our only choice." Chung said grimly. "Our objective is to secure a position from which to negotiate a fair peace treaty with the Empire. And we can't do that if our fleet is destroyed here. We'll need to preserve it, at least as a fleet-in-being, in order to prevent the Empire from simply dictating terms to the Alliance."

"Hopefully we can do more than that." Bucock said. "If we can leave the field with enough combat strength intact, then together with the Iserlohn Station Fleet, we can adopt a Fabian strategy. Avoiding unnecessary engagements, and fighting only when needed and at a tactical advantage…"

Bucock trailed off while shaking his head. "No," he said. "That's a consideration for later. Right now, we need to focus on getting through this battle. Nothing else matters."

There were nods all around, as Bucock focused his attention on the tactical displays. As he watched, the Imperial Fleet probed his lines, and as per his and Chung's orders, their forces responded.

The mobile reserve used concentrated fire to slow down the enemy's probing forces, while the bulk of the Combined Fleet kept the main Imperial Fleet busy. With their own forces probing the Alliance lines, the Imperial Fleet ironically had to tone down their artillery fire, which together with the Combined Fleet using the wreckage of destroyed ships as cover and not having to worry about friendly fire gave the Combined Fleet a firepower advantage against the Imperial Fleet.

Further adding to the irony was that while the Imperial Fleet had detected a large-scale fighter launch on the Alliance's part, their correct deduction that launching their own fighter forces would only favor the Alliance played to the Combined Fleet's advantage. Using the wreckage of destroyed ships as cover on approach, they closed in undetected on the Imperial Fleet's probing forces, and targeting their engines, left large numbers of cruisers and destroyers, battleships even, adrift helplessly in space.

This forced the Imperial Fleet to break off their attack for fear of hitting their own forces, as crippled Imperial vessels drifted through the space between the two fleets. Pulling back what forces they could, the Imperial Fleet switched to a new tactic, firing precise volleys to cover engineering ships as they moved forward to tow the crippled ships to the rear for repair and recovery.


"That clever old man," Reinhard began with genuine respect, while sitting on his command throne. It was now 1242 hours on February 10, the battlefield again at a standstill as the Imperial Fleet recovered their crippled vessels. "Despite the overwhelming odds before him, he's managed to drag the battle out for so long, and kept his fleet in good order. As should be expected from someone with decades of experience on the battlefield."

"As you say, Your Excellency." Oberstein agreed. "With that experience, by simply focusing on 'not losing' our fleet despite all its advantages is unable to make headway."

"Hmm…and?"

"The enemy most likely awaits the arrival of their Iserlohn Station Fleet." Oberstein continued. "Once it arrives, given the closing of the gap between the numbers of our fleet, then even in the event of victory our losses will be such that they can't be ignored. And if the enemy manages to retreat in good order afterwards, then even with the fresh forces even now advancing from the Iserlohn Corridor, our victory will be of less impact than hoped."

"As you say," Reinhard said with a nod. "We need to decisively break this fleet before us, and advancing, secure a foothold within Alliance territory from which to continue our campaign. Even if the Iserlohn Station Fleet must be allowed to proceed to Heinessen in the process, strategically-speaking given the extent we've extended our lines, consolidation would better serve us than attempting to engage after such a difficult battle."

"Destroying the enemy one by one is a conservative, but valid strategy." Oberstein observed. "And given our astrographic position, conservatism would serve us well indeed at this point."

Reinhard nodded. "Indeed," he said while sitting up. "Let's wrap this up. The enemy commander we face today is the last echo bar one of the pride and dignity the Free Planets Alliance once possessed. Let us honor what he represents with our full might. Streit!"

"Yes, sir?" the rear admiral asked with a salute.

"Signal Bittenfeld." Reinhard ordered. "Break the enemy lines with the Black Lancers, and bring the enemy's banners before me!"

"Yes, sir!"

As Streit moved to relay his orders, Reinhard looked back to the tactical displays, and narrowed his eyes.

"Soon." He thought.


As a junior officer read Reinhard's orders, Bittenfeld smirked and then whistled at its conclusion. With a gesture of his arm, the orders were given, and in minutes the Black Lancers were advancing from their position at the starboard rear of the Mittermeier Fleet, and advancing past the latter, pushed into the energy current flowing between the Imperial and Alliance Fleets.

"Maintain the formation!" Bittenfeld shouted as the Konig Tiger shook around and beneath him.

"Calculate the relative speeds of the current and our fleet, and compensate! Standby to commence bombardment the moment we break through the current!"

"Your Excellency," his adjutant began in alarm. "The enemy will know we are on our approach, and it's likely they'll have the initiative as we emerge from the current."

"So what?" Bittenfeld snapped. "Meet the enemy's counterattack with our own, and power through!"

It was at 1320 hours that the Black Lancer broke through the energy current, and found the Alliance Combined Fleet's mobile reserve in position to fire. Neutron beams carved through space, and explosions erupted en masse as Imperial ships were torn apart by the volley.

"Don't falter!" Bittenfeld ordered. "Continue advancing, at maximum battle speed! Overwhelm them with firepower, numbers, momentum, and everything we've got! Breakthrough!"

Driven by their commander's sheer will and knowing theirs was the honor – or in the event of failure, dishonor – of breaking the Alliance lines, the Black Lancers plowed through. More neutron beams carved through space as the Black Lancers opened fire, ineffectively at first, but growing more and more effective as the minutes passed and more and more ships pushed through the current and drove against the Combined Fleet.

In the end, the ten thousand ships of the Black Lancers proved too much for the mobile reserve, which only numbered a few thousand. And with the bulk of the Combined Fleet tied down by a renewed bombardment from the main Imperial Fleet, by 1510 hours the mobile reserve had collapsed and the Black Lancers drove into the heart of the Alliance Combined Fleet, the hammer to break it to pieces against the anvil that was the main Imperial Fleet.

"Enemy lines have collapsed." The weapons officer said in triumph. "Target locked: Alliance Combined Fleet Flagship, Rio Grande!"

"Fire!" Bittenfeld roared, and the Konig Tiger fired along with hundreds of ships around and in its wake. The Alliance flagship and the few other Alliance ships nearby were hammered from their flank, and then explosions burned in space as they exploded under the onslaught.

The destruction of the flagship broke the Alliance Combined Fleet. Alliance communications channels devolved into a confused mess of surrenders, exhortations to fight to the death, maydays, and other signs of desperation. In the end, at 1845 hours, February 10, Universal Calendar 799, Imperial Calendar 490, the Battle of Rantemario came to an end.

The Alliance Combined Fleet suffered over thirty thousand ships destroyed or captured, with an estimated five thousand ships making an orderly retreat under the command of Vice Admiral Mouton in the direction of Heinessen. The remainder scattered on their own accord, prioritizing their own safety rather than surrender or retreat to fight another day. Personnel losses numbered over two million men killed, taken prisoner, or missing in action.

In contrast, the Imperial Fleet lost only about ten thousand ships, and about three-quarters of a million men killed, taken prisoner, or missing in action. "Notify the fleet," Reinhard ordered after receiving confirmation that any and all resistance had ceased. "Once regrouping is complete, the fleet will proceed to Ghandarva Starzone and the system of the same name, and on planet Urvash establish a forward operations base from which to continue our campaign."

"Yes, sir!" his staff officers acknowledged with a salute.

"Furthermore," he continued. "As we depart the battlefield, all officers and crew will rise and salute the fallen."

"Yes, sir!"

Reinhard nodded, and rising from his throne departed the bridge.


It was on February 12 that the Iserlohn Station Fleet, hurrying from Shampool to Rantemario, received notification from Heinessen of the crushing defeat at Rantemario, and the virtual annihilation of Fleet Admiral Bucock's command. With it came new orders, to proceed to Heinessen immediately and regrouping with the survivors reform the Combined Fleet under the newly-reinstated and promoted Fleet Admiral Yang Wen-li.

"No…the Combined Fleet…"

"Admiral Bucock…"

"What a disaster…"

"It's over…the Alliance…what will happen to the Alliance now…"

"It's not over yet!" Alarcon exploded at the staff officer who suggested that the Alliance had been defeated. "We still have twenty thousand ships in our fleet! Thousands more at Heinessen! And Miracle Yang…!"

"Yang…" Cazerne murmured before rubbing his eyes. "If only…if only the damn politicians hadn't…then maybe…"

"In any case," Rockwell said, also rubbing his eyes. "We have our orders. We will proceed to Heinessen, reform the Combined Fleet, and under Fleet Admiral Yang, continue the fight."

Rockwell paused, and swept his gaze across the meeting room. "We're not beaten yet." He said. "So long as we still have one ship, any one soldier, willing to fight and die to protect our Alliance, then we haven't lost. Not yet…not ever. We just have to hold on, and keep on fighting. We'll only lose if we give up."

"Yes sir!" the response came from across the room, and Rockwell nodded once before turning to Murai.

"Rear Admiral Murai, give the word to the fleet. About the defeat at Rantemario, Fleet Admiral Bucock's death, and our new orders."

"Admiral," Murai began. "Is that wise? Won't it potentially demoralize the fleet?"

"It could." Rockwell admitted. "But it could also serve to motivate them. Whether to avenge our comrades, or knowing that we have our backs to the wall defending our homes and families…come to think of it, a formal mourning period while on the way to Heinessen just might serve to drive home the need to honor the sacrifices at Rantemario."

Murai nodded. "I'll have it done, admiral." He said, and Rockwell nodded.

"Very good," he said. "I'll leave it to you."

"Yes, sir."

Rockwell turned back to the rest of his staff, and nodded. "If there is nothing more," he said. "Then dismissed."


It was a subdued atmosphere in which Defense Secretary Islands met with Fleet Admiral Yang. "Speak freely, fleet admiral." Islands began. "Do we have any chance of winning this war?"

Yang didn't answer at once. He looked out the windows for several moments, and then sighing removed his beret to keep his hands busy with. "That would depend on the definition of victory." He finally said. "Obviously, we can no longer dictate terms to the Empire, but for the government's goal of negotiating a treaty in good faith…"

Yang paused, and again looked out the window. "No," he said, shaking his head while returning his gaze to the defense secretary. "We can save the Alliance, but we can't win this war. Not now…maybe in the future, but there's no ending it right now."

"What do you mean?" Islands asked.

"The Empire holds all the cards." Yang began. "They have superior numbers, both in terms of soldiers in uniform and overall population, have a larger industrial base than we do, and with the fall of Iserlohn and Fezzan both, have superior positioning. Indeed, it's arguable if we can even contest them for the initiative."

"But?"

Yang nodded. "They have one weakness." He said. "An Achilles' Heel, in fact. Specifically, Prince Lohengramm himself."

"…what?" Islands asked in surprise.

"Prince Lohengramm is the effective ruler of the Empire at this point." Yang said. "It doesn't matter that a scion of the Goldenbaum Dynasty still sits on Odin's throne, all real power is in his hands. But, like all dictators and autocrats, the question lies in who shall take power on his death."

"I see!" Islands said in comprehension. "Prince Lohengramm holds all authority, but with the loyalties of all of his subordinates focused on him alone, then should he die…"

"…then what keeps them together will vanish." Yang said with a nod. "His subordinates will promptly begin to argue or even fight amongst themselves for the right to succeed him, indeed, it might even be expected that the nobles he overthrew – or those who survived – to join in on the struggle to reclaim the power and influence Prince Lohengramm had taken from them."

"And in the process," Islands continued with building confidence. "All will return to Imperial territory, thus saving the Alliance!"

"For now, at least." Yang said with a sigh. "Certainly, we'll save the Alliance. But if we do this, the citizens of the Empire will never forgive us. We'll take from them the greatest leader they've known, and worse have plunged their nation into a civil war. There will be no peace between our children, or our children's children."

Islands grimly nodded. "I see your point." He said. "But…we can't really hold back on account of the enemy's civilians, can we? Our responsibility belongs to our citizens, not to them."

"Perhaps…" Yang said with a sigh. "Personally, I believe we shouldn't go to war without fully considering the enemy's civilians. Failing to take that properly into account contributed significantly to our defeat during our invasion of the Empire a few years ago, and its aftershocks contributed to the Imperial public's support for Prince Lohengramm's current campaign against us."

Yang paused and sighed. "And of course," he continued. "You said that we are responsible to our citizens…but if we survive at the cost of deep and enduring hatred from the Empire's citizens…won't it be our future citizens who'll pay the price?"

Islands couldn't answer, and after several moments, Yang sighed and shook his head. "All that said though," he finally said. "Those are just my personal opinions. While I'd like your Excellency and the government to consider that in mind for the future, I will of course, perform my duty to defend the Alliance, no matter the cost."

Islands nodded. "I understand, fleet admiral." He said. "Would you happen to have any suggestions for what to do after the war?"

"We'll have to rebuild." Yang said at once. "Even in the worst-case scenario, we'll have at least a generation's worth of peacetime as the Empire recovers from the civil war that will result from Prince Lohengramm's death. We can't afford to waste that time."

"Yes, of course." Islands said with a nod. "I understand."

Yang nodded. "If there is nothing more, Mister Secretary," he began. "I should get going. Though the Iserlohn Station Fleet hasn't arrived yet, I have to make what preparations I can as early as possible. We don't have much time."

"Yes, of course." Islands said with a nod. "I completely understand. And rest assured, the Alliance government will do everything it can to support you in the coming campaign, and to honor you for your services afterwards."

"Thank you, sir.'

Islands nodded and got to his feet, Yang doing likewise. Shaking hands, the defense secretary turned to leave only to pause as an idea came to him. "I almost forgot." He said. "With regard to other officers to be reinstated, Vice Admiral Attenborough and Lieutenant General Schonkopf should be ready to reassume command by the day after tomorrow at the latest."

Yang smiled and nodded. "That is good news to hear." He said.

"As I said, fleet admiral," Islands said. "We'll do everything to support you. Until later then."

"Yes, sir."

Yang saluted as the secretary left the room, leaving him alone with Frederica. "Well, I'm stumped." Yang said while collapsing into a seat. "That was a welcome surprise, but still a surprise for all that."

"It's a good thing though," Frederica said. "That the Alliance government is finally focusing on what needs to be done."

"No kidding." Yang said, though he fell silent afterwards with a worried expression on his face.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

"Hmm…I didn't mention this to the defense secretary since I'm not sure it'd be in-character for the kind of men Prince Lohengramm prefers under his command," Yang worriedly said. "But there is the possibility that his men – upon his death – would not immediately fall into infighting and return to the Empire afterwards."

"…do you mean they will attempt to continue to conquer the Alliance?"

"It's possible." Yang said glumly. "Either in their own names, or more likely that of Prince Lohengramm's sister, Countess Grunewald."

Yang paused and shook his head. "And that's the worst part." He said. "We – I – know so little about her beyond she's Prince Lohengramm's sister and a former mistress of the late Emperor Frederick IV. I can't really say what she'd do if her brother's men turned her into their figurehead in the event her brother dies."

"Do you think she will attempt to avenge her brother?" Frederica asked.

"I don't know." Yang said. "I don't know enough to make a reasoned assumption. And that aside…"

"…is there something else worrying you?"

"…as I said, it doesn't seem like it's something Prince Lohengramm's men would do," Yang worriedly said. "But if we kill him in battle, and his men are lost in grief, then instead of merely just conquering the Alliance, they will seek to destroy it."

"…it can't be…they wouldn't…"

"A literal scorched earth campaign…" Yang murmured. "You never know what men might do when brought to the brink."

"…fleet admiral…"

Yang sighed and shook his head. "In any case," he said while getting up. "Just worrying will do no good. We need to do something real, and we have plenty that needs attending to. Let's go, Frederica."

"Yes, fleet admiral."


Even as the Iserlohn Station Fleet hurried to Heinessen and Yang put together a plan to expose and eliminate Prince Lohengramm from the board, an estimated thirty thousand ships and one mobile fortress and its own station fleet arrived at planet Urvash in the Ghandarva Star System in the starzone of the same name. Three flagships descended from orbit to the surface, Barbarossa, Salamander, and Jotunheim. Aboard them were respectively Fleet Admiral Siegfried Kircheis, Admiral August Samuel Wahlen, and High Admiral Karl Gustav Kempff.

They were greeted on arrival by an honor guard of light infantry, along with Reinhard and his staff himself. "Well done, all three of you." Reinhard said, returning the salutes of the newly-arrived flag officers and their staff. "Having recaptured Iserlohn Fortress, you have opened a second front and a new route for supplies and reinforcements to pass through, all valuable contributions to the campaign."

"Thank you, Your Excellency." Kircheis said. "And we would congratulate you on your great victory at Rantemario. With this, the door to Heinessen is open, and once what's left of the Alliance Forces have been defeated, this war can finally end, and a new, golden age of peace and prosperity dawn over the known universe."

Reinhard nodded, and gesturing for them to follow, led the way further into the compound. It was half an hour later and once the fleets' officers were mingling in the simple celebration of the campaign's having come so far that Reinhard and Kircheis retired to one corner of the large function room the celebration was being held at.

"What do you think?" Reinhard asked.

"Intelligence informs us that Yang Wen-li has been reinstated and promoted to Fleet Admiral." Kircheis said. "Furthermore, he is rebuilding the Alliance Combined Fleet between the survivors of Rantemario and the Iserlohn Station Fleet. And on that note, I apologize for failing to prevent the latter's escape. If it had not…"

Reinhard waved him off. "I'm sure you had good reason, Kircheis." He said. "And this might even be for the best. If he only had the survivors of Rantemario to work with, Yang Wen-li might resort to a more troublesome strategy of asymmetric warfare to contest us with. Instead, he would face us in open battle, with what's left of the Alliance's combat strength. Destroy them, and they'll have nothing left to oppose us with."

"As you say, Lord Reinhard."

Reinhard nodded. "If you were in Yang's place," he began. "How would you proceed?"

"You are our weakness, Lord Reinhard." Kircheis said. "If you should fall, to whom shall our loyalty go? Who shall we turn to in order to guide us into the future? With that in mind, I suspect Fleet Admiral Yang will seek to draw you out, and isolating you, engage you in battle on his terms and thus eliminate you with a single stroke."

"I suspected as much." Reinhard said with a nod. "That would be their only real chance at a victory, wouldn't it, Kircheis?"

"Yes, Lord Reinhard."

"And how do you think he will proceed with applying such a strategy?"

"First," Kircheis said. "In order to narrow down our freedom of choice and margin of error, he will attempt to sever our supply lines. One or two raids to destroy supply fleets tasked with performing resupply operations would suffice. He would then wear down our forces, by drawing individual fleets away and then defeating them, before finally going for you, Lord Reinhard."

"…he overestimates himself," Reinhard said. "If he expects to defeat you, Kircheis."

"Lord Reinhard, flattery doesn't become you."

Reinhard laughed. "I suppose it isn't." he said, before looking out the large, glass windows in thought for several moments. "Still, when all is said and done, he's basically conserving his forces to fight and win when it matters, and in conditions he'd set beforehand. In short, a Fabian strategy."

"So it would seem, Lord Reinhard."

Reinhard laughed again. "Fabius Maximus," he said softly. "That was the name of the Roman general for whom the strategy was named after. And it served him well against Hannibal. But…what if Hannibal marched on Rome? Then what?"

"It would have done him no good." Kircheis answered. "For he had not the means to break its walls."

"True," Reinard conceded. "But we are not so limited against Heinessen, are we?"

"No, we are not, Lord Reinhard."

Reinhard smiled, and after a moment so did Kircheis. The path to victory was clear.


A/N

And the Battle of Rantemario comes to an explosive close, with the Combined Fleet effectively annihilated and the Alliance command staff all but wiped out. There might not seem like much differences between the canon battle and the AU one here, but here the Empire had one extra fleet, specifically the Reuenthal Fleet. That's fifteen thousand ships not present in canon, and commanded by one of the best commanders in the Empire, Oskar von Reuenthal.

With all the heavy losses, Yang is understandably more worried than in canon, but he's still not worried enough. Then again, how could he possibly expect Kircheis already figuring out what he's planning to do?