Twelve vampire knights entered the chamber, out of armor and dressed in plain black tunics, matching black pants, and wearing tall black boots. Each carried a simple black blade. A second chant rose from the men, joining the song of the women, deepening the melody, like a twin vine growing around the first. The song was everywhere now, echoing from the walls, reverberating back on itself, and Maud breathed it in.

The second column split in two and the men took position between the women, each with their blade straight down, its point resting on the floor.

The song changed, gaining strength and speed.

A Battle Chaplain entered the chamber. He was tall, his skin gray with a slight blue tint. A mane of black hair shot through with gray fell on his shoulders in dozens of long braids. His vestments, the color of fresh blood, were split into ribbons, each about eight inches wide, and as he strode forward, they moved and shifted like the robes of some mystic mage. He carried an ornate spear draped with a red cord and decorated with golden bells. Two glowing yellow orbs about the size of a large orange dangled from it.

The song erupted, suddenly full of joy and triumph.

Behind the Chaplain, the bride and groom strode into the chamber in unison, both out of armor. The bride’s gown swept the floor, long, diaphanous, and white. The groom wore an ornate silver doublet over darker pants and soft boots. They had removed all jewelry. Their hair hung loose, brushed back from their faces.

It was one of the rare few moments that vampires permitted themselves to be vulnerable in public. Maud hadn’t fully grasped the significance of it during her own wedding but now she understood. You came to the altar as you were, hiding nothing from your future spouse.

Arland reached over and squeezed her hand. She smiled at him.

The Chaplain ascended the dais. The couple followed and the three of them took their places in front of the vala tree. The Chaplain raised the spear and touched its end to the floor.

The chant died.

The Chaplain opened his mouth.

An alarm blared through the chamber.

A screen opened in the middle of a wall, showing a male vampire knight on the bridge of the battle station.

Arland rose to his feet. “Report.”

“We are showing multiple unidentified craft entering the system,” the knight said, his voice calm. “We are under attack.”

The banquet hall had gone completely silent. When the huge screen projected on the wall, it showed three merchant barges racing from the gate, deeper into the system, squeezing every drop of speed out of their protesting engines. Behind them, a pirate flotilla swelled like a swarm of angry hornets. A single barge could’ve fit all of its attackers in its bloated hull, but the pirate ships made up for their lack of tonnage in maneuverability and armaments. No two vessels were alike, but, limited only by the imagination of their crew and the laws of physics, all of them bristled with every possible weapon they could rig onto their hulls, from kinetic cannons to missile batteries. They chased after the lumbering merchants like barracudas ready to tear into an injured whale.

Arland watched the chase, his face impassive, as if unaware that every person in the hall was waiting for him to make his move.

“We’re receiving a distress call from the barges,” the officer from the bridge reported. “They are begging for our assistance, my lord.”

“Put it through,” Arland said.

A scratchy, static-filled distress call played from hidden speakers, screams of beings in pain, spearheaded by an urgent, desperate female voice, “…rear thrusters lost…hull integrity compromised…requesting immediate aid. We’re at your mercy…”

The call cut out.

“Will House Krahr stand idly by and permit this piracy?” the father of the groom demanded. His voice boomed through the hall.

Maud glanced at Ilemina. Arland’s mother sipped her wine, appearing fully unconcerned.

“Lord Marshal!” the bride called. Tears stained her cheeks. “Please. Don’t let this travesty stain my wedding.”

Arland turned to the bride, concern obvious on his face. “Do not worry, my lady. You have my word that I will allow nothing to ruin this day.”

Arland turned to the screen. “Give me the feed from the Eradicator.”

The screen flashed with white, and a new image snapped into view, a swarm of sparks silhouetted against the dark cosmos, and then, as if by magic, huge elegant vessels appeared on both sides and above, framing the screen—the House Krahr armada, waiting in formation between the battle station and the incoming invaders. If the barges could reach the firing envelope of the leading Krahr vessel, they would be safe.

“Lord Harrendar,” Arland said.

The image of a middle-aged vampire with a blue-black mane appeared in the lower left corner. “Lord Marshal.” Lord Harrendar sounded like a lion who somehow became a vampire.

“How close are the leading pirate vessels to the barges?”

“We expect them to reach firing range in forty seconds.”

Arland waited.

The division in the banquet hall was obvious now. The members of House Krahr waited in tense silence, while the wedding guests appeared almost frantic, as if they were barely able to contain themselves. From her spot, Maud had a clear view of the groom’s mother and the woman looked ready to explode. Next to her the bride’s mother tapped her fingers on the table, looking as if her armor was on too tight.

Seconds ticked by.

“Do something,” the bride’s father growled.

Arland ignored him. Maud’s heart hammered. She forced herself to reach for her drink and take slow measured sips. The tension in the hall was so thick, you could cut it and serve it in slabs on a plate.

“They’ve launched the opening volley,” Lord Harrendar reported.

“Missiles?”

“No, my lord. Long-range kinetic bombardment.”

Maud had little experience with space battles, but her harbinger assured her that kinetic bombardment amounted to lobbing chunks of matter, such as stone or metal, in the direction of the target. Kinetic bombardment was deployed primarily against stationary targets, because they couldn’t dodge.

“Damage?” Arland asked.

“Slight,” Harrendar reported, his tone sharp.

“Well, of course they’re not using missiles,” the mother of the groom snapped. “They clearly want the cargo, desperately enough to chase it into your territory. If you do not do something, we will.”

“Is this what House Krahr stands for?” the father of the bride asked.

“Do not trouble yourself, my lord and lady,” Arland said. “We have the situation well in hand.”

“You’re going to let those merchants get slaughtered by pirates,” the groom growled.

“Second volley,” Harrendar reported. “Damage minor. The barges have passed the outer beacon. Still mostly intact.”

“Show me the relative position,” Arland said.

A projection appeared on the screen. The pirates were clustered around the barges now, forming a loose cloud about to engulf the three larger ships.

“Velocity?”

“.4 lightspeed,” Harrendar reported.

“Initiate firing solution Revelation.”

“Finally,” the groom muttered.

“Yes, my lord.” Harrendar bared his fangs in a joyous grin that would give some people nightmares.

The screen flashed back to the view from the Eradicator. For a torturous moment, nothing happened. Then, the entire armada simultaneously belched a missile salvo. The missiles sparked with bright green and vanished.

“Impact in three,” Harrendar started. “Two. One.”

The screen exploded with white. Maud shut her eyes against the blinding flash. When she opened them, the explosion had faded, and the long-range projection glowed on the left half of the screen.

The barges were no more. The leading third of the pirate fleet had vanished. Chunks of debris hurtled through space in their stead, turning it into a localized asteroid field. The vessels in the center of the swarm reeled, initiating evasive maneuvers.

Stunned silence claimed the hall.

“Direct hit,” Harrendar crowed into the quiet.

“Excellent work, admiral,” Arland said. “The field is yours.”

Harrendar grinned. The House Krahr armada accelerated toward the remaining pirates.

Arland turned. His gaze swept the hall and settled on the table where the elite of Kozor and Serak waited. “When I became aware of your asinine plot to take over the battle station, one thing kept nagging at me. Our fleet is in-system, and you are, like most pirates, cowardly. You shy from an honorable fight. You had to have a way to neutralize our fleet.”

You could hear a pin drop.

“A few days ago, I happened to come across a pirate. He is a knave and a brigand, exiled by his own House and burning with rage. I planned on killing him, but my betrothed reminded me that even a knave could be useful. I asked myself, who would find this pirate, once a Knight Captain and now an enemy of Holy Anocracy, useful? So, I bribed his communication officer and then I listened, and for a paltry sum, he told me your entire battle plan. The three barges loaded with explosives, set to go off as soon as they reached our fleet, and the pirates meant to mop up what was left while you used the chaos to take over the battle station. My lords and ladies, please take these few precious seconds remaining of your lives to contemplate where it all went wrong and prepare to cross death’s threshold. You will not be granted another chance to reflect.”