Read Beyond Death (Perimeter Defense Book #2) for Free Online

for advice.
    "First thing you need to do is calm down and let the teams also get some rest. After that, go over footage of the battle with your officers and find your mistakes. By the way, send me the recordings too. I'm very interested in the Aliens' behavior. Maybe I can also notice something and give you some advice. Well, and after that it's clear, restore the fleet. Buy ships to replace those that were destroyed. Differently from me, Duke Paolo hasn't forbidden you from buying ships for your fleet."
    "With what money?" Marat ton Mesfelle laughed bitterly. "Two Yataghans to replace those lost is one hundred twenty million credits. Six Thrushes is another thirty, and fifteen million for new frigates and destroyers. One hundred sixty-five million! I don't have that much money, and beating something out of that miser Duke Paolo is just not gonna happen..."
    I agreed with my cousin that shaking money from the Head of the Orange House’s piggy bank was no trivial matter. Also, I realized fairly quickly that I had found an excellent way of breaking the embargo.
    "Marat, it occurs to me that we each have something we can help the other with. I can give you money: four hundred million to buy ships for your fleet. That will allow you to not only compensate all your losses, but also significantly grow in force. In return, you will buy ships for my fleet in your name."
    Marat went silent and said thoughtfully:
    "Well, I can buy them for you, but how can I get them to Sector Eight? They won't let them through the Core..."
    "For now, you just buy what I tell you. Let the teams fill out, the officers get used to the captains, then I'll tell them where to go."
    Marat shuddered:
    "Georg, if you're planning something against the law like an attack on Perimeter Sector Seven targets or an attempt to power your way through the Core, I will have to refuse you."
    Ugh, I didn't want to open maps, but there was no other way.
    "Calm down, Marat. I wasn't thinking of doing anything illegal in your zone of responsibility. It's just that, very soon, in three weeks maximum, the Parn warp beacon will be turned on, and it will open a direct route from Sector Seven to Eight. That was how I was planning to get my ships through."
    "How do you always know everything, cousin?" Marat asked in surprise. “Well, alright, I'll buy the ships for you, but under one condition. Let's not call it a condition, but a request. When the beacon turns on, help me take back Nayal and Veyerde. Since you have a lot of experience fighting the Aliens and such a reputation, the enemy will flee as soon as they even catch wind of your ships."
    My second cousin's attempt at flattery was so awkward that I even started laughing.
    "Alright, I agree. I'll help you. I need to get my Astra her home planet back."
    When the screen went out, I heard Astra's voice:
    "Tell me honestly, Georg: could he have won that battle in the Nayal system? Would you have won?"
    "Now yes, I would have won, even despite how unexpectedly the attack began. But a month and a half ago, I would have done no better than my cousin. The debacle in Vorta was even more terrible. Don't blame Marat ton Mesfelle. The first encounter with Aliens is always like that. You need a deep defeat for a fleet commander to understand that it's all serious and the old methods won't work anymore."
    "But that that particular loss came at too high a price to my family... Who am I now? The youngest of fourteen sisters and the only one not married. No home, no people, no kingdom. I'm not even sure that I have the right to use the title 'Princess' anymore, now that the Kingdom of Veyerde no longer exists."
    Astra sat gloomily like a raincloud. After that, she gave a decisive start:
    "I need paint and canvas. I want to express the feelings I'm experiencing on the destruction of my Kingdom."
     
    * * *
     
    Now I've already been sitting for more than an hour in front of a screen, looking over offers from Sector Seven docks. The selection