The plight of the moment left all three Warhammer commanders greatly embarrassed.
The Pig King commander looked toward the Golden Eagle commander: "Is the other side truly so strong?"
The Golden Eagle commander drew a deep breath: "The other side's interstellar warships are strong in every kind of performance — surpassing, at the least, our same-grade interstellar warships. And the enemy fleet numbers, at present, at the least 20,000 ships! Of course… were it only that, I'd still have the strength for a fight. The crux is the enemy fleet's interstellar missile ships. Just how many interstellar missiles they have… no one knows. And relying on that powerful T2 interstellar frigate of theirs, we find it very hard to tear open the enemy fleet's defensive line and get directly at the enemy's interstellar missile ships."
The Golden Eagle commander said a great deal.
In sum, it came to a single line: this defeat is not my fault; it's an advantage the other side threw money at — piled up out of interstellar missiles.
The other side fights dirty!
Though they heard clearly enough the Golden Eagle commander's intent to shift the blame, the Pig King commander and the Giant Ape commander were not, at this moment, in any hurry to call him to account.
Things having come to this pass, what use was there in fixing blame now?
Better to think on how best to handle what came next.
"Then if we mustered our own 20,000 interstellar warships on this side — could we defeat this suspicious interstellar legion?" the Giant Ape commander said, all eagerness.
The Pig King commander fell silent, as though pondering.
The Golden Eagle commander said at once: "Surely we could. I refuse to believe the other side has any more interstellar missiles!"
"So you're gambling." the Pig King commander returned.
The Golden Eagle commander started, then said with much waving of his hands: "This… think about it — interstellar missiles are so costly a strategic resource; how could the other side possibly…"
"But don't forget — the other side just blasted off 1 billion and more star coins' worth of interstellar missiles. What makes you dare guarantee the other side can't bring out another billion and more star coins' worth of interstellar missiles and call them down on our heads! You're gambling with our interstellar warships," the Pig King commander said, his face black.
The Golden Eagle commander was at a loss for words.
He was indeed gambling… and he truly did not believe the other side had any more interstellar missiles.
Rather as one wouldn't believe a beggar's friend would pull out a gold brick and bring it down on one's skull.
"Pass my order — all interstellar legion fleets, withdraw from battle at once. Pull back to this coordinate zone, and await the next combat plan. And at the same time report the news of this battle up above, and request reinforcements." the Pig King commander made his decision at the last.
"Withdraw? How can that be! If word of this gets out — that we were driven off by a mere rebel army — where does that leave our…" the Golden Eagle commander said in displeasure.
"Face? Is your face the important thing, or our tens of thousands of interstellar warships! We don't even know the least thing about the enemy's true origins, and to give hurried battle already breaks every rule of caution. If you want to go on fighting, then take your Golden Eagle Tribe's interstellar warships and fight. In any case, we of the Pig King Tribe will withdraw along the whole line." the Pig King commander finished, and looked toward the other commander.
The Giant Ape commander hesitated a moment, then said: "I too agree to withdraw."
The Pig King Tribe held a weighty place among the twenty great tribes, for they had a vast advantage in sheer numbers of their race; of many low- and mid-tier industries, the Pig King Tribe held no small share.
And the Pig King Tribe was, besides, the most loyal running dog of the Half-Dragon tribe.
The other great tribes naturally had to grant the Pig King Tribe a little face.
The Golden Eagle commander wore a look of one forced to swallow a grievance; in the end he could only agree to the withdrawal plan.
In this way, the various Warhammer legion fleets began to pull out of the battlefield.
…
"Report! The enemy fleet has begun to withdraw!"
This joyful news spread through very nearly every command echelon of the revolutionary army.
This sudden joy took them wholly by surprise.
Of them all, the most excited were, beyond doubt, the several dozen elite interstellar warships that had only just finished mustering, ready to break out.
Aboard these interstellar warships were the finest seed-fire of the revolutionary army.
"Wonderful! We don't have to flee!"
"The enemy's pulling back — we've survived."
"Somebody punch me — I can't believe any of this…"
The whole company of the revolutionary army, given new life, sank into an ocean of joy.
Xin'er of the Black-Fox clan had eyes full of gladness.
"Wonderful, Big Miss — the enemy fleet's retreating!"
"The chief and the others are safe too!"
The Black-Fox handmaids wept for very joy.
Even amid her gladness, Xin'er gazed off toward that stretch of meteor cluster in the distance; she knew full well that the turn in all this had come from that interstellar fleet that had descended like very gods from heaven.
It was that fleet which had saved them.
At the last, most desperate moment, it had reached out a hand and pulled them back.
Xin'er was most curious: just what sort of interstellar fleet possessed strength so great it could turn the tide against all hope!
Very soon, this answer was revealed.
Someone — she couldn't tell who — cried out first: "Quick, tune to the interstellar public channel — the commander of that relief fleet is speaking!"
These words were like a stone flung into a lake's surface, startling up a whole sky of spray.
Everyone, in the first instant, checked the message on the public channel by every means they had.
Xin'er, too, at once used her own advanced handheld terminal to pick up the open-channel signal.
A video window appeared.
On the other end was a female beast-folk — by her looks, of the feline kind, it seemed.
Her gaze was keen, and the military uniform on her was of a most dashing cut.
The background, too, was the bridge of an interstellar warship strong in its air of science-fiction — plainly, at a glance, exceedingly advanced.
"Why — that's General Charlotte!" a Black-Fox handmaid beside Xin'er suddenly said.
"General Charlotte?" Xin'er murmured the name in some curiosity.
In earlier years she'd not been very active within the revolutionary army, and so had only heard some rumors of a General Charlotte.
By the time she'd begun to hold an important post within the revolutionary army, General Charlotte had already 'fallen' in a battle.
But not long before, in that battle at the Black Wolf Tribe's home star, General Charlotte had suddenly descended, and, with a victory scarcely to be believed, announced to Warhammer her 'rebirth.' And yet, in the half-year since, General Charlotte had once again vanished without trace.
Who'd have thought that, when this general appeared again, it would be, of all things, in so astonishing a guise?
In the open channel, General Charlotte chiefly laid out the present state of the fighting, and at the same time announced her coming to the revolutionary army, that all might set their hearts at ease.
The danger had passed — and so on, and so forth, words of this kind.
In times past, Xin'er would have thought all of this mere formality; watching her mother and the other revolutionary-army leaders speak such words, she'd always found it very dull.
But now, watching the General Charlotte in the video window before her lay all this out, for some reason she felt so stirred, so heartened.
She'd not move her eyes from this White Tiger woman-general for a single second.
So dashing!
So bold and fine!
How wonderful it would be if she could get to know her.
Xin'er, eyes alight, opened the screen-capture image she'd just taken.