Captain Cedric Grayson stood in the middle of the combat information center of the Terran dreadnought Anduril, his eyes fixed on the main tactical plot. Five more minutes until the enemy closed to effective firing range. Already his group's fighters and screening frigates were intercepting enemy shots - kinetic harpoons and nuclear torpedoes aimed to sow chaos among the retreating civilian ships. A few had already found their marks, and the first casualty counts were beginning to roll in. Captain Grayson straightened his collar and steeled himself for what was to come.

"Prepare for contact, maximum shields," he ordered. "Area denial barrage, frag cannons execute."

All along the firing line, blinding flashes of plasma erupted as the warships opened fire with their fragmentation cannons, hypersonic projectiles streaking out to burst into clouds of bowling-ball-sized Kirklin mines. Moments later, the enemy fleet careened through the minefield, deflectors and point defense guns sweeping a path through the hazard. Here and there flashbulb points of light and gamma radiation erupted as a few of the mines found their marks, tiny antimatter charges detonating against unnaturally dense hulls. A few enemy ships came apart under the battering, mostly fighters and gunboats, but most of the fleet barreled inexorably forward.

The rhythmic thud-thud-thud of the frag cannons continued to echo through Anduril's hull as she sent dozens more five-ton projectiles on their way. On the tactical display, Grayson watched the enemy wave crash through the area denial barrage like it wasn't even there.

"All units, Anduril actual!' he shouted. "Weapons red and free! Batteries release on all hostile contacts in range! I say again, fire at will!"

With that command, a firestorm erupted all along the Terran line, particle and laser fire lancing out. The Seclundi, Keldani and Jaag ships joined in an instant later, all manner of beam fire flashing from their weapons. Torpedoes followed, their engines flaring brilliant purple. All the while, the enemy rushed on, their shields flaring and hulls glowing under the pounding. They were giving better than they got, though, returning fire with vicious beams of coherent gamma rays.

Grayson looked on as the situation continued to deteriorate. Several blue icons, representing friendly ships, winked out - small ones, frigates and destroyers at first. A moment later, a larger one vanished - the big battlecruiser Agamemnon, then the Nelson and the dreadnought Narsil. Anduril bucked under several heavy blows. The red condition one lighting flickered out for a second, then back on.

"Fire, fire fire! Class delta fire in the hangar, 1-744-3-F! Repair locker 8 respond!" came the announcement over the 1Mc. "Repair 7 hit directly! Hull breach at frame seven one six! Port shields down, portside armor seriously degraded!"

Captain Grayson shifted the view away from the battle, back to Earth. Over and over the jumpgate activated, the weird black vortex swirling open to engulf more ships and carry them to safety. Several more activated their own jump engines - a few thousand more people away. He could feel the ship roll over, facing its undamaged starboard side into the onslaught, even as enemy fighters streaked into view, heading right for a dense cluster of civilian vessels.

"Keldani CA Zarevai, Katana squadron Papa! Fall back, take some of that heat off of the civilians!" he ordered frantically. "Jaag destroyers Valor and Resolution, close it up, engage those enemy FFs, keep 'em off the rescue ships as long as we can!"

The big Keldani cruiser slashed down into the onrushing fighter and gunboat squadron, her particle guns picking off a few. Kinetic harpoons, meant for killing soft-skinned freighters, glanced off her deflectors. Several nuclear torpedoes, unable to penetrate her thick poly-zirconium hide, detonated, most of their deadly energy radiating harmlessly into space. In space above the Keldani ship, the small wing of enemy frigates lanced past, bursts of energy flashing out from their turrets. One civilian ship took a direct hit, rupturing the antimatter tanks, and disappeared in an incandescent flash. Simultaneously, the jump vortex it had formed destabilized, crushing two more as space twisted back, closing the hyperspace gateway.

Like attack dogs, the two Jaag destroyers swooped in, firing their singularity projectors and disruptor cannons. One after the other, three of the frigates disintegrated under the withering barrage, but the fourth continued on, slashing into the formation of defenseless ships with reckless abandon, firing in all directions. The jumpgate, their way to salvation, opened, and they made for it like all the demons of hell were behind them. The first trio of ships dove for the jump vortex in a hail of fire. A kinetic harpoon struck one amidships, and it disintegrated, spilling its cargo and passengers into the void. The third caught a burst of gamma ray laser fire that laughed at its meager shields and blasted a hole clean through its engine housing. In a fraction of a second, antimatter containment failed and it vanished in a flash of radiation. The third fell in sidelong, spinning out of control as the radiation flash boiled away its armor.

Things weren't going much better back on the Anduril. Captain Grayson picked himself up off the deck. All around him, CIC was in ruins. The air was thick with acrid smoke, lit only by weak battle lanterns. Here and there flames flickered from demolished consoles. Less than half the watch team were still at their stations. Most of them were on the deck still, wounded or dead. Announcing casualties had long ago become pointless. Half the ship was flaming wreckage, or open to vacuum. It was a testament to the ship's designers that she was still navigable, much less combat-capable in her current state - indeed, even her captain was surprised to hear the sharp double crack of the dorsal main disruptor turret firing - but it was only staving off the inevitable at this point.

Past the battle line, the Zarevai drifted powerless through space, beaten and battered, while the two Jaag destroyers were little more than hunks of lifeless metal, like burnt angels' wings. The few warships tasked with evacuation fired futilely into the enemy ranks as they continued to press onward. One more group of civilian ships passed through the jumpgate, the last that ever would. Seconds later, a torpedo slammed into the power reactor housing and went high-order, taking the jumpgate with it. The orbital defense grid and ground-based weapons batteries fired frantically at the advancing invaders and their torpedoes, but the impressive display of firepower wasn't enough. Like lances, the torpedoes screamed down into the atmosphere. First London, then Dubai, then Paris vanished in flashes of nuclear fire.

Back on the Anduril, Captain Cedric Grayson stood and faced the viewer, came to attention and saluted one last time as his home nation of Britain was consumed in fire. An instant later, a torpedo found a gap in Anduril's armor, and the once-proud dreadnought was no more.

One by one the defense satellites were destroyed. Nuclear strikes against the command posts silenced the ground fire, too. The enemy fleet slowed and settled into a high orbit. Out of the swirling chaos where the Terran battle line had been came the most enormous enemy ship anyone had ever seen. Several torpedoes spurred away from it, streaking red-hot through the atmosphere, but no nuclear devastation accompanied their impact. Indeed, there seemed to be no impact at all.

Inside the combat information center of the carrier TNS Enkidu, Admiral Katyana Alexiyevna Kotova looked out at the scene unfolding below. The lack of impact meant only one thing: biological weapons.

"No..." she murmured. "Get us out of here. There's nothing more we can do."

"But, Admiral!" a crewman protested. "My mother's down there! We have to save... Or at least avenge...!"

"What we have to do, is get those that we saved to safety," she replied. "There will be vengeance, make no mistake. But not today. Navigation, initiate jump.

Hours later, she sat in her chair, poring over the figures. It had been a Heraclean effort. Tens of thousands of ships, military and civilian, human and alien; the largest spacelift in the recorded history of the galaxy. And what the hell had it accomplished? One hundred fifty seven million, seven hundred thousand. Not even the population of Russia. There was no hope of going back for more, of course. Even if the invaders didn't nuke Earth to a cinder, there was still the issue of the biological weapons. She cursed almost inaudibly before picking up the microphone.

"Noah's Ark group, Enkidu group command actual," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "Oh, damn the formalities. Everyone, this is Admiral Kotova. As you are all aware, we were very likely the last ones out. The president of the Republic, and most of his closest staff remained planetside. As of 1930 local time, we lost all communications with Earth via FTL means. We can only assume this means the worst. My sincerest condolences go out to any of you who had friends or family remaining planetside. I don't think anything I, or anyone else, can say can even begin to address the scope of what's happened today. We will do what we can do ensure your comfort and safety over the next week, until we arrive at Dirac's Star. May God go with us all."