When Empires Collide
Author: Stephen W. Bennett
Date: 2017-05-27T18:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction
Description: The end of the main series: Under threat of destruction or servitude to the Empire, facing the fleets of the Ragnar, Finth, and Thack Delos, and the larger force of the Thandol, Mirikami prepares the Federation for all-out war. The Planetary Union, allied with the Federation, receives a squadron of new technology Federation Scouts, equipped with gravity controlled weapons. They conduct a preemptive strike on a Thandol base. The Emperor blames it on the Federation, unaware of the PU’s existence, and orders simultaneous attacks. Mirikami sends teams of Federation Scouts to the Security forces, t

Koban: When Empires Collide

By Stephen W Bennett

Koban: When Empires Collide

Text copyright © 2017

By Stephen W Bennett

All Rights Reserved

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This eBook is licensed for your personal use and enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the many months of long and hard work of the author.

This book is written in “American” English, so there may be some differences in spelling and usage than in other countries use of the language.

This is a work of fiction and all characters are fictitious or are portrayed fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

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To Paul Benkert

Again, I offer my sincerest thanks to you Paul, for your painstaking proofreading of my malapropisms, typos, wrong words used, odd phrasings, and story inconsistencies. With the full story in my head, I sometimes leave out links between items that seem connected in my mind, but in retrospect make no sense to the first-time reader at that point in the story. I’m indebted to you for staying with a difficult task, when it’s easier to speed through the story for enjoyment. Thankfully, you pause to take notes. It bears repeating that there are more errors than we both can find, even on a second pass by each of us. I’m adroit at sneaking goofs in at anytime, anyplace. As proof, I’ll be posting new editions as kind readers find what fresh eyes see, and our tired eyes missed.

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Table of Contents

Maps of Milky Way

Chapter 1: Organizing for War

Chapter 2: PU Scouts go Rogue

Chapter 3: Ragnar Team

Chapter 4: Reconsidering Ragnar Priorities

Chapter 5: Finth Team

Chapter 6: The Empire Strikes Back

Chapter 7: PU, a Nicer Smell

Chapter 8: The Thack Delos

Chapter 9: The Silha

Chapter 10: A Great Defense

Chapter 11: Countering Counter Measures

Chapter 12: Intimidation Diplomacy

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

About the Author:

The End

Maps of Milky Way

The Milky Way Galaxy. Earth, Human Space, Koban, and the Federation reside in the Orion Spur, between the Perseus and Sagittarius Arms.

The Thandol Empire is spread along the Sagittarius Arm, near where the Orion Spur branches away.

Expanded view of approximate stellar boundaries of Human Space and the Galactic Federation in the Orion Spur, with positions of Earth and Koban shown. Human Space consists of the Hub worlds, New Colonies, and Rim Worlds

The Thandol Empire is divided into three Security Sectors, and is patrolled by the Ragnar, Finth, and the Thack Delos species.

Chapter 1: Organizing for War

Mirikami didn’t sugar coat the situation. “The Empire is going to throw everything they have at us, as quickly as Emperor Farlol can get his three security forces organized to start an all-out war. We estimate the first attacks in this war will start within two months. The planetary bombardments by each of the security species, if destructive enough to severely reduce planetary defenses, will be followed by additional assaults on cities using the full might of three large Thandol naval fleets. Afterwards, their security forces will return with millions of ground assault forces to make invasion landings, supported by their space forces, with the goal to crush resistance, and to hold onto the planets attacked.

“They intend to force survivors to swear allegiance to the Emperor, and his Empire, or die. There will be no middle ground acceptable to the Emperor. If a world is conquered, or it surrenders, the entire population will become subservient to the Thandol and their Empire, working on their behalf and paying them taxes, or cease to exist. Dozens of other subservient species have survived in this fashion for millennia, so life can go on, but only under the conditions allowed by the Thandol. Their rule is absolute, and punishment is brutal if there is renewed resistance. However, if the Thandol are obeyed, the indentured species endure. Although, they must give up expansion to new colonies, limit scientific research, and any hope for a future not controlled by the Thandol.”

The Federation Council was in session, all representatives were present, an overflow audience filled the public portion of the large amphitheater-like chamber, and the proceedings were being streamed live, via instant tachyon broadcast on Instellarnet, to Haven, Koban, and their thirteen growing colonies.

“President MacDougal and I, and the members of the council, agree that we have to be proactive, and act before the Empire can launch their first attacks on us, and on Human Space. We include the Rim Worlds and the Planetary Union because we know the Empire makes no distinction between our worlds anyway. They see the Federation and Human Space as existential threats to the future of their empire. They will not tolerate or accept free neighbors as independent political entities, which are examples they cannot allow their subservient species to see.

“I have called on former Admiral Mauss, and General Nabarone, to accompany me and President MacDougal to meet with President Strickland of the Planetary Union, her Secretary of Defense, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff. We need to coordinate our operations, and convince some of the doubters that Human Space is truly in the Empire’s crosshairs. We will be departing on that mission later today.”

He pointed to holographic images of the Federation’s new warships, the Mark II heavy cruiser class, and the much smaller, but surprisingly effective Scout class.

“Production of the larger Mark II class will continue, but only on one production line on Haven, and we will cease building civilian versions of that line entirely. We need fighting ships. Our clanships will take on the bulk of commercial shipping and supply. The three other ship production lines on Haven will be devoted to building Scouts, as will the three available production lines on Greater West Africa, the former Krall base world of K1. This is in Human Space, and we are offering these ships to the PU to raid into the Empire.

“With Hub worlds, which have far greater production capacity than we do, we intend to offer them licenses to build Scouts, with an obligation to come to our defense, as we have come to theirs. Some Council Representatives objected to this offer. However, with our far smaller population, and the simple fact that we could never maintain control of the basic technology of the new ships for very long anyway, we need them. Having more ships to disrupt and slow the Empire’s ability to organize the multiple fleets they can send against us, is critical at this early stage of the war.

“I mentioned the problem we have with our low population. If I was speaking only of those of us that live on Haven and Koban, and the sprinkling of Federation born Kobani on our new colonies, we’d be spread hopelessly too thin. Fortunately, we now have twice as many Kobani that were Human Space colonization volunteers, who are now members of the Galactic Federation, and live mostly on our new colonies. Since the Krall war ended we have increased our Kobani population by a factor of six. I assure you that against the Empire’s resources they aren’t enough.

“Our Prada, Raspani, and Torki citizens will fight with us, as will some of the small Krall’tapi population. The Scouts, with their so far undetectable T-cubed movements, gives our other citizens the means to supplement the Scout raider forces we can use against the Empire. Their gravity guns have proven extremely effective.”

Mirikami shrugged. “Unfortunately, our nonhuman populations have not had time to recover from the millennia of Krall oppression and population suppression. They more than pull their own weight in producing and improving our technology, but they are too few as it is, and they can’t send many to fight alongside us, to effectively counter what the Empire can send against us.

“On a more optimistic note, Mauss and Nabarone informed us this week that Kobani converts within the ranks of the PU army and navy, have now surpassed the two hundred thousand or so Kobani within the Federation. We disrupted Krall war plans with only thirty thousand Kobani, and the forty million PU soldiers and sailors, in Human Space, followed our lead to push them off planets where they were entrenched. We know now that there were only about fifty billion Krall, all of them essentially warriors, and had they been willing to leave their Great Path sooner and fight all out, humanity would have been toast.

“Despite their larger numbers of fighters, and vast egg laying reproductive capability, we original Kobani took away their main weapons, and their transportation and supply system, just prior to their intent to employ what I used to call their Population Bomb. The waves of billions more of Krall hatchlings and younglings could have won the war for them, even without the planet busters we put an end to.”

He paused to let his audience appreciate how they had overcome the odds in the last war. Then he described the new odds and forces against them.

“There are over one and a half trillion residents within the Thandol Empire, against just a trillion population in Human Space and the Federation combined.” He let that sink in before he pointed out an important distinction.

“Nearly sixty percent of their population is composed of twenty-two species, of non, or low-aggressive races, who were conquered and forced to join the Empire. They are subservient to the Thandol, and are forced to produce material for the defense of the Empire in exchange for being allowed to exist, and to trade with each other and the Thandol.

“The Thandol, and three security species, the Ragnar, Finth, and Thack Delos, comprise the Empire’s two-tiered set of ruling classes. Although the second-tier security forces have no love for the Emperor, or for each other for that matter, they were defeated by the Thandol thousands of years ago, and given an opportunity to retain some of their military forces. They were offered higher status within the growing empire as an inducement to support the Thandol. They now back the Emperor’s authority, and perform much of the empire’s military and police enforcement in their three regions, perform tax collection, and engage in fighting new species when encountered. They do this under the continued threat of the massive naval superiority the Thandol wields over their three combined forces, and the threat posed to their home worlds and limited number of colonies.

“Our primary plan is to damage the Thandol naval forces enough to encourage the security forces to jointly, or individually, rebel against their overlords. If any one of them refuses this offer, then we will attack their naval forces as well. To give you a measure of why we think this is our best hope, let me provide you with some unpleasant numbers.”

Mirikami brought up a graphic, showing estimates of the three security forces strengths. “The individual fleets of the security forces are each comprised of roughly three thousand heavy and medium cruiser class fighting ships, of tonnage and armament comparable to our captured clanships, and to the PU navy’s medium and heavy cruisers. Some of them have another two-thousand lighter warships that are much like the now abandoned destroyer class of the PU Navy.

“The lighter ships are intended as fleet screens, and with our Krall-like tactics we bypass them and Jump inside the enemy fleet formations, rendering the poorly armed and armored ships nearly useless. The Thack Delos, who are a strange thinking species we’re told, opted for another five hundred medium cruisers and no light destroyers.

“They all have armed patrol boats, roughly the size of our Scouts, but they have proven as ineffective as their destroyer class craft against us.

“Our Scouts, with gravity control, excellent stealth, and which can move at T-cubed speeds undetected, at least thus far, have proven extremely effective. We used only five of them to damage or destroy a couple of thousand Thandol warships in a surprise attack, when the vessels were left unattended at a secret base.

“If combined, the three security forces, with just over nine thousand five hundred combat effective ships, match the nearly five thousand Federation ships, and about four thousand PU ships. This is not much of a numerical advantage for them, considering that humans appear to be better at space warfare than at least the Thandol and Ragnar. We employ innovative strategy and unconventional tactics, which the Empire has never faced against their weaker opposition.

“If the security forces were all that we faced, we could at least expect to hold our own, or even prevail. The Federation fleet did face most of the Ragnar fleet at Tanner’s World, and by outnumbering them, we forced them to withdraw quickly, after they suffered heavy losses.

“However, the Thandol have maintained three fleets of their own, which if combined consists of roughly fifteen thousand heavy capitol ships, another ten thousand of a medium cruiser class, and probably ten or twelve thousand of what we would declare a destroyer class. Although, the Thandol, with large bodies and egos to match, built their light ships larger than PU destroyers. They always build larger, and operate more types than their security forces are permitted to construct, or that we and the PU have built.

“The Federation has, I believe, proven that the absolutely humongous ships of the Thandol, their immense Crushers we could call Super Dreadnaughts, are extremely vulnerable to our nova bombs, and are not maneuverable enough to fight the slashing, intermingled space battles we conduct, a dogfight-like tactic which the PU navy has now adapted. But they only had eight of those Crushers, and are now down to four. The bulk of their massive fleet has the capability of overwhelming us, including their security forces even if we somehow convinced them to revolt, which it is unlikely we could convince all three to do that.

“Although, it isn’t by space battles alone the Thandol will try to win. It’s by delivering devastating punishment to the most vulnerable targets of their enemies. Which isn’t our fleets, or those of their security forces if we turned them. It is the worlds, their people. The Thandol specialize in attacking noncombatants, and yet keep a targeted world intact enough that when defeated, the conquered species can work for them. It’s why they employ the unstoppable Decoherence bombs, and use Debilitater rays, to damage populations and housing, yet leaving factories, infrastructure, and agriculture largely intact.

“The Federation is young, and we have few inhabited worlds, none of them well developed. That makes us hard to find, but we simply can’t lose the Koban system, with our two most populated worlds, where nearly all our manufacturing and research takes place.

“The PU, on the other hand, paw, or claw, has hundreds of industrialized and developed worlds, and a lot of population. We need them in this fight with us, and we must share our new ship technology with them if we are to combine forces. They can survive the loss of populated worlds, and did so in the war with the Krall. We can’t lose this one system, and remain an independent Federation.

“Gearing up to focus on defending our worlds isn’t a winning strategy for us. We cannot match the number of ships they could use to swarm us. Instead, we need to keep them at home, inside their own territory as much as possible. That’s why our most effective defense is as strong an offense as we can mount, and hit them at home, where there are tens of thousands of targets that they can’t protect constantly. Hopefully, we’ll do this with the PU joining us.

“To describe that aspect of our mission to Earth later today, I’ll return the podium to President MacDougal.” Mirikami stepped aside, as MacDougal nodded and smiled, shook his hand, and walked to the podium.

His deep booming voice was steady, and he spoke with determination. “Citizens, we are not confronted by a barbarian horde in this war, and the Krall were unconcerned with their own people’s lives, and distained property and territory. We used their social structure to provoke blind range and foolish actions that we were prepared for, and used to our advantage. This will not work as well with the Thandol, although they can be provoked.

“It’s true the Thandol don’t care about the subservient species they rule, or particularly covet to live on their worlds with them, but their huge egos, and pride of position over other races is of tantamount importance to them. To the males that is. Their females have no role in government. A Thandol leader has an innate Herd Master’s urge to dominate, not only his own family herd, but to place his family herd above all other families. Yet top Thandol males are willing to ally with other families to retain his family’s preeminence, and trade or share power with those other family herds that will support him.

“This basis of social structure, or motivation if you prefer that term, of Thandol male society, is what drives the Emperor and his supporters. There is constant pressure by other high placed, powerful Thandol males, to jockey for position to become the Imperial Herd Master.

“The ruling emperor is changed relatively often, considering it’s a position granted for life. A noble male vying for that position isn’t considered worthy of support until he’s invested nearly half of his life in climbing the social ladder within his own family, establishing contacts, doing favors, reaching out to strong males of other powerful families. Then, when he believes the existing emperor has weakened, or blundered, or has allowed his power to corrupt him and his closest supporters, there is a coup to try to replace that Emperor. It is always fatal for either the current Emperor and his closest followers, or for the usurper and his followers. If a ruling family is replaced, the bloodshed is widespread.

“Oddly enough, these internal revolts don’t greatly disrupt the running of the empire, although it may cause it to pause an expansion, or delay suppression of some rebellious species while the new leaders consolidate control, or for the undefeated old Emperor to purge the opposition’s supporters. The history of past Thandol coups has been thoroughly studied by Maggi Fisher, and her team of Mind Tappers, who have studied the minds of two captured Thandol officers, one of whom is a high-ranking member of the Emperor’s herd, and is his second cousin.

“You must be asking yourselves, why am I talking about Thandol politics, and social structures?” He answered the rhetorical question.

“We hope to provoke a coup to replace Emperor Farlol the 84th, or to convince him a coup is being planned, which may divert the empire’s attention from their goal of annexing the Orion Spur territory.

“That would gain us time, at a minimum, and can be combined with our attacks to keep their primary Thandol naval forces held defensively inside the Empire. Held back not only to defend against our attacks, but because the Emperor will suspect involvement of his own High Command with the supposed coup, or from highly placed officers in the navy that might want to bring down the Emperor. Letting powerful fleets leave the empire to attack us, and thus fall under the unchecked influence of rival males when so remote, could result in that fleet returning to surround the Emperor on his throne world, forcing his followers to yield, and result in his death and replacement.

“A good result, from our perspective, is to help the Empire fragment into three or four regions, with at least three controlled by those security forces, and The Thandol perhaps retaining some control. We will strive to create open rebellions for the security forces, to take control of their own patrol sectors. Even if that fails, and the empire retains control, those Thandol naval forces will need to assume the security in any sector that revolted, and those ships will be unable to attack us. Fragmentation would put an end to any annexation of the Orion Spur. At least for the near future.

“We decided on full transparency, to allow you to appreciate our common peril, and to understand why we are not going to hunker down defensively, to try to hide from an enemy that would eventually find all our inhabited worlds.”

He gestured back to the others that sat on the stage with him. “Behind me are those that will accompany me to Earth, pausing only at Greater West Africa to pick up Admiral Mauss and General Nabarone, and fifty new Scouts built there, to deliver them to the PU Navy. The pilots of those Scouts are full Kobani, and they will Tap converted Kobani, released from the PU navy and army, to teach them how to operate the ships and the new gravity guns.

“Wish us success, and we will keep you updated concerning our meeting on Earth, via Comtap and Instellarnet. We launch as soon as we leave the Council Chambers. Thank you.”

They filed off the stage at the rear, to cheers and loud applause, voices sounding full of hope and confidence. Mirikami, walking between MacDougal and his wife, didn’t feel much like cheering.

“Full transparency?” His question sounded a little bitter, from the tone in his voice. The cause was quickly revealed. “I still think I should have told them that it was probably my actions, leading the Scout attacks at Wendal and at Rogue 2, that precipitated the Emperor into ordering his rush to start the war. I misjudged how quickly the normally meticulous Thandol would move to initiate their attacks. I expected more probing small raids, and new feints by the Ragnar, at least for six months to a year. In that time, the deteriorating health of Farlol, and Maggi’s planted coup rumors, could have stayed his aggression.”

“Stuff that attitude, Tet.” The words sounded more like they came from Maggi, but originated with the president. “I signed off on that mission, after you, and all of the participants expressed their views. Hell, Sarge wanted to kill the Emperor, and you pointed out how that would force their hands, err…, their trunks I guess, immediately. You and I presented him with the same argument against that, so we agreed that your approach seemed more likely to slow them down, and Maggi concurred. She has the greatest understanding of the Thandol psyche, from her frequent Mind Taps of Captain Halder, from that Crusher we destroyed at Meglor.”

Maggi agreed. “I didn’t expect that strong of a reaction from the Emperor, because it would not be Captain Halder’s reaction, or that of Lieutenant Temthra. Neither is a Herd Master, and they aren’t as sexually and emotionally driven as is a Thandol male that achieves that high social status. Halder had influential relatives, and was a good commander, so he rose in ranks in that fashion, rather than by the love of power or a desire to dominate the herd.

“I don’t think their reactions are the same as the more emotional one of a Herd Master, particularly an Imperial Herd Master. I estimated what Farlol’s reactions would be based on the emotions of the two less driven males we had with us to examine. The miscalculation was inevitable, because we were always going to place pressure on the Emperor, and if he knew it came from the Federation and we threatened his position, he would have struck out at us in the same way. Hindsight is always sharper.”

Mirikami yielded. “OK. You could be right, and it doesn’t change the situation we’re in now anyway. Let’s get spaceborne.”

****

Calling down to the dome above an underground factory, Mirikami obtained clearance to land directly from orbit to the tarmac, where the fifty new Scout ships had been parked after their shakedown flights. That always caused less consternation for nearby observers when they were forewarned, and the Mark softly popped into existence in a clear area near the south dome entrance.

Henry Nabarone and Golda Mauss were waiting under the overhang of the entrance into the former Krall habitat. Henry looked even more fit to Mirikami’s eyes than when he last saw him. He recalled the overweight desk jockey he’d been when they first met on Poldark. Mauss was still lanky, and tall for a woman, but her Kobani physiology made her movements as smooth as a professional dancer. It forced a smile when he realized the muscular, brusque talking Nabarone moved just as gracefully as Mauss, as did any ripper or Kobani.

They immediately started walking towards the Mark as it’s ramp extended, and the outer airlock lock hatch irised open. Because there was a normal atmosphere on Greater West Africa, the inner airlock hatch was also open, and MacDougal, Mirikami, and Fisher strode out to greet their friends, and passengers.

There were handshakes between the men, Maggi and Golda offered handshakes that turned into hugs.

Maggi asked, “Golda, you’ve been flitting around Rim worlds for the last two years, but have you been back to Earth?”

“No. Not even to a Hub world. I’m quite recognizable after the war documentaries, and the revelation that I became a Federation citizen stirred several biographical profiles of me, and speculation as to why I immigrated. Defected, as one popular LOR aligned talk show host described what I did. He called for my arrest if I ever showed my face on any Hub world. He reminded his Tri-Vid watchers that as a four-star flag or general officer, in a time of war, that I was subject to recall at any time, and therefore by renouncing PU citizenship and becoming a GF citizen, I was guilty of desertion, if not treason. No matter that I continued to fight the Krall alongside the PU forces, and that the navy had forcibly put me out to pasture.”

“Are you worried about it now, Golda? Perhaps we should meet President Strickland on more neutral ground, to protect both you and Henry from accusations of misconduct,” Mirikami suggested.

“The war’s over, so I’m not worried about a peacetime obligation applying.” She grinned.

Stewart smiled back, but offered a counter argument, “You don’t think the Empire’s attacks constitute a definition of war?”

She shrugged, “For the Federation, and for Tanner’s, which is a Rim World, yes a state of war exists with the Empire. Nevertheless, no PU member planet has been attacked yet, and there has been no declaration of war against the Empire by Parliament. I believe after our meeting this week that situation might change, but by that time I’ll be out of the Hub region. Anyway, Henry and I have the same legal problem all of you have. We are guilty of implementing illegal gene mods at a time when we were citizens of the Planetary Union. Henry here is in deeper crap than I am, if it comes to those laws. He isn’t a Federation citizen in other than spirit, and is still an active duty general officer in the PU army.”

Maggi’s eyes had her frequent mischievous twinkle as she looked up at Nabarone. “It would be more merciful to simply put him up against a wall and shoot him before we leave. It would save us a lot of courtroom time and attorney fees.”

“Ha!” He countered, with a smirk. “Strickland may or may not know about me, but her VP, Bledso, sure as Hell does. They’d have to protect me to protect themselves.”

“I doubt that would be required.” Mirikami pointed out, amused. “Their DEW party wouldn’t go after you in the first place. Even the LOR has started to change their tune on genetics, although their far-right minority base may never yield on that topic. They don’t have a significant influence on elections anymore, so they’re being ignored. Just try not to give a public interview, Henry, and blurt out some angry admission, OK?”

“Yes,” agreed Maggi, adding her pinprick. “Do something unusual, hold your temper and keep your mouth closed in public.”

He laughed. “Is this pot supposed to accept advice from the kettle? A whistling teapot of a diplomat at that.”

“Touché, dear.” Which earned Mirikami a brief glare from his petite spouse, before she shrugged, nodded her acceptance of the obvious similarity between her and Henry’s blunt styles and opinions.

Walking out of the dome behind them came fifty pilots, who were to deliver the new Scouts to Earth, and provide Mind Tap flight training to Kobani converts from the army and navy ranks. Mirikami recognized one of them immediately. It was Joe Longstreet, the former spec ops Captain. A younger looking man walking beside him seemed familiar.

“Hi Joe. I haven’t seen you for a while. How’ve you been?”

“Pretty good Tet. I’ve been sampling minds and recruiting candidates for Henry and Golda, then training the converts in all the new combat tricks we’ve learned with our expanded abilities. Bill here has organized three-day camps we hold for that purpose. The navy personnel in particular lack any ground combat skills, and none of the army or navy people, coming from enlisted ranks, knew how to fly anything.”

The first name, Bill, of the familiar face was enough to trigger Mirikami’s memory matrix. “Bill Crager! I didn’t know you’d undergone the age regression treatment, you old war dog. I nearly didn’t recognize you. I guess you gave up ever going back to your First Sergeant slot on Heavyside?”

“Hello Tet. No, I wasn’t going back anyway, not when all the fun was in the field. The camps on Heavyside were to be phased out even before we eliminated the last of the feral Krall. Highly trained spec ops became unnecessary, at least when so many regular army troopers mysteriously seemed to gain all those same skills. Our field recruiting was so successful we put the Heavyside camps out of business. The gene mod labs there were buried in a different budget allocation, so they’ve continued to make conversions when we send people to them. Admiral Foxworthy’s staff had already noticed how much vacation leave was taking place near wherever Migration ship hospitals were parked. Heavyside isn’t a very plausible vacation spot either, but at least it’s different.

“I took retirement and discharge as soon as the war wound down and force reductions started. I had the seniority and age to muster out early. Then I signed on with Golda and Henry, to teach the new Kobani how to wipe their butts without breaking the toilets. I got Mind Tap genes on Koban at the same time I regained my youth. I learned how to fly Shadows, shuttles, and now Scouts. We’ll teach the new PU Kobani crews how to operate Scouts, and use the gravity guns to fire rods. Provided we bother to carry them anymore.”

“Uh…, you mean you might leave out the gravity guns for the PU Scouts? They worked like a charm at Rogue 2, and if we’d only carried more rods with us we’d have caused greater damage.”

Crager looked puzzled, glanced at Mauss, and his expression turned sheepish. “Sorry Mam, I guess I spoke out of turn.”

She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it Bill. I was going to talk about the guns on our way to Earth.

She looked at a confused Mirikami. “Bill didn’t mean the gravity projectors, just the rods and their gun.”

“What about the gravity guns?” Mirikami was the one looking puzzled now.

“Well,” she started tentatively, “they were your idea, and we didn’t want to imply they had no use in space warfare at all.”

His confusion grew. “Golda, I authorized them to be installed on our new ships, but the gun wasn’t my idea. The design and concept are entirely the brainchild of a Raspani and a Torki. Blue Flower Eater and Coldar, whom I know you’ve met. They had to work hard to sell me on the idea, to convince me a gravity powered projectile gun was even possible, let alone practical.”

Henry interjected. “I told you to explain it to him earlier Golda, before he left Koban. He’s not some prima donna to get upset, even if the gravity gun concept is lame. We just heard him say it wasn’t even his idea. The Prada, Torki, or Raspani couldn’t fight their way out of a thin plastic bag, not without our help and guidance, so their ideas on the proper use of weapons should always be suspect. They don’t have minds as collectively dangerous and destructive as humans do.”

The comments had managed to confuse MacDougal as well. “What’s lame about the gravity guns? Tet’s squadron of five Scouts managed to knock out two Crushers, and nearly five hundred Thandol ships via direct fire. Then the gravity projectors steered the Crusher hulks into another thousand or so parked ships. How was that lame?”

Mirikami grinned and raised both hands chest high, palms out, to hold off discussion. “Why don’t we step into the conference room on the Mark, get some drinks in our hands, and Golda can tell me what I was going to hear en route to Earth, while I let my AI, Jake, lift us off.”

“It’s not called Jacob?” Henry asked.

Mirikami talked as they entered his ship. “That AI is still installed on the Mark of Koban, which is now assigned to sentry duty in the Koban system. The personality kernel for this more advanced model computer was copied from my original JK model AI, that we called Jake. The original unit is still on the disabled Flight of Fancy, and its programmed personality traits were subsequently integrated into a newer state of the art system for this Mark. It was a bit of nostalgia on my part when I heard the original Jake was going to be phased out of controlling the power grid when The Flight of Fancy becomes a museum.

“I know an AI doesn’t have feelings, but for twenty-five years Jake sat on the tarmac outside Prime City, helping to run the power grid. It’s not rational, but I felt like I’d abandoned a friend that helped us survive the trip to Koban, and the challenges of outwitting the Krall after that. That outdated JK computer will stay on the Fancy, of course, as the historian and guide for visitors, but the personality emulation at least gets to travel with me. It has a huge new internal database at its disposal, and instant access to Instellarnet to get other information it may be asked for, obtained from either Federation or Human Space libraries.”

In the conference room, placed just above the centrally located Bridge, the group settled around the long table. With a chuckle and reference to Nabarone’s earlier remark, Mirikami said, “Golda, tell me what I, as an oversensitive lady opera singer, would have been upset to learn about gravity guns.”

She laughed with him. “Tet, that was just Henry’s bombastic mischaracterization of my decision to wait. It isn’t that the rods you used have no practical application at all, but your perceived ammunition limitation at Rogue 2 caused you to allow too many of that sitting duck enemy fleet escape destruction. Their only practical defense should have been to jump for their lives, if they ever managed to get off that airless rock in the first place.”

“I’ll bite. What else would we have used to slam into them, after we exhausted our combined supply of five hundred rods?”

Instead of providing a direct answer, she used one of Mirikami’s well known techniques, to guide his own thoughts. She asked him a question. “How did you launch the rods?”

He assumed a curious expression, aware of what she was doing. “I know you know the answer; It’s done by using mini black holes to draw them down the launch tubes. Therefore, you’re obviously leading me towards something else.”

“I am,” she admitted. “The mini black holes start small, then you use tachyon power to increase their mass in this Universe for greater gravitational pull, and guided the accelerating rods towards the targets. The black holes, if not precisely guided at the very beginning, could erode the launch tubes, right? And if not accelerated to stay barely ahead of the rods, they would eat the projectiles. Tet, why do you even have projectiles?”

The surprise on his face was instant. “I’ll be damned! I let Blue and Coldar lead me down the primrose path they’d imagined, without question. I was so surprised they had even thought of a way to use the gravity projectors as weapons that I didn’t challenge their use of a dense material projectile.”

MacDougal wasn’t enlightened in the slightest. “I don’t get it. What other type of projectile is there, if not material?”

Maggi, familiar with her husband’s use of the Socratic method, which he sometimes used to push people to arrive at a logical conclusion on their own, hadn’t made the leap either. “OK, Lady Socrates,” she was looking at Mauss. “What did you just force Plato here to figure out for himself? If there’s no bullets, what good is the gun?”

Mirikami looked embarrassed. “The mini black holes are compact masses contained within a very small event horizon, thus outside of our Universe in that sense, so I suppose that makes them immaterial. But they’re certainly dangerous, destructive, and unstoppable. Golda, what led you to realize the equivalent to the gunpowder in this case was deadlier and more useful than the slugs? I missed that entirely.”

“I saw event horizons in action. You were stranded on Koban for the first twenty years of the Krall war. The use of a black hole as a weapon only appeared in combat one time, during Operation New Lance at K1, long before you left Koban. The Krall used portable trap field emitters mounted on a small dish, which could create a gravity field in front of the dish. They placed them in the noses of remotely operated single ships and sent them at my fleet. They didn’t have many, and we managed to destroy the ones they had.

“Those projectors must have been a forerunner of your gravity projectors. They could focus the trap fields to form a close-in, two hundred food wide event horizon to protect the single ship from a frontal attack. They could extend the range if they formed a smaller event horizon at a greater distance. You can’t reduce the size of a naturally formed event horizon in this Universe, but the projector could partially rotate the hole into Tachyon Space to reduce and concentrate the area of intense gravity, and move its focal point towards a target. I watched ships from the size of destroyers, all the way up to battleships, get swallowed or shredded by them. I had that vivid memory to guide me, and you did not.”

He shook his head. “I’m not completely off the hook here. What you describe I saw used once, after the Flight of Fancy was boarded, following a day of bloody killing aboard her. The Krall used one of those to dump the dead bodies of my passengers into what I called a Jump Hole at the time. I learned the small device they used was built by the Botolians, who were wiped out by the Krall. They must have obtained those small versions at the same time they captured the larger Botolian projectors. The larger ones they forced the Torki to use, making the collapsed matter for forming Eight Balls. I know you saw those balls in action. I didn’t know they had more of the small dishes, or ever used them as weapons against ships. I suppose they used up the ones they captured by attacking your fleet. We never encountered any of them when we fought them later.”

Stewart finally grasped what Mauss had revealed to Mirikami. “Instead of smacking a ship with a high velocity dense rod, we can smack them with the event horizon we used to accelerate the rods. No bullets required, nothing that can be blocked or hit with a laser or plasma bolt, and it can be used repeatedly. Neat and deadly.”

Mirikami asked, “What can a Scout do with them?”

“That, we know a little about. Scouts were tested here on exploded ship debris still in orbit around K1, and on very small asteroids. On the latter, they could easily rip into the surface of asteroids a few hundred feet wide.”

“I presume there’s no compromise in hull stealth when they’re used?” He assumed that wouldn’t change. Staying stealthed had been an advantage of firing the gravity guns, which didn’t reveal the location of the ship after the projectile left the gun and was steered on a new course.

“No,” she answered. “There’s no leakage in the higher ranges of the electromagnetic spectrum, although you know about the weak long wave radio frequency stealth vulnerability. Although, our mass detectors can spot the larger event horizons, and track their movements to some extent at low speeds. By projecting the black hole to form some distance away from the Scout, which can be a hundred miles from the ship, and then move it at high speed, your location would probably remain unknown, especially if you’re in a low mass Scout.”

Mirikami was pleased. “As you know, we’d already diverted most ship construction to Scouts. These little hellions might change the nature of naval warfare, and give us an edge that sheer size and numbers of enemy craft can’t provide. Little ships can kill big ships. That will deflate the Thandol ego a bit. We’re about to change the nature of space warefare.”

Impatient to get going, Henry asked, “When the Hell are we lifting off? I’d like to get there the same day the Scouts arrive, so you can officially present them.”

Maggi gave him an impish grin. “We lifted before you sat your whinny butt down, General, and we Jumped at about eight miles up, to prevent a loud bang on the ground. I’d tell you how far away we were now, if I knew.”

An old familiar calm voice came from overhead. “Mam, we are over two point four light years from our departure point.” It was Jake. He was still applying the twenty-five-year-old communication protocol implemented by Mirikami, back when the Krall occupied the Flight of Fancy. When he heard a question that could be interpreted as directed to him, he volunteered the answer, and if no Krall was within hearing, answered on speaker.

She winked. “There you go Henry. Ask, and it shall be given you.”

Jake’s voice returned. “Mam, is Mathew 7:7 to be added to my communications protocol, along with the remainder of the bible?”

She looked startled. “No. Of course not, Jake. Don’t apply bible passages to the protocol. We don’t want an ear for an ear to be taken literally.”

A dry mechanical chuckle was heard from the speakers. “I didn’t think so, Mam, but my new humor module flagged that response as likely to induce some degree of mirth. I was not directed to suppress such responses. However, for future reference, it mentions an eye for an eye, not ears.”

The people at the table, despite sharing a laugh, displayed expressions that implied misgivings. Mirikami expressed it for them all. “I think I can safely say that AI humor has still not made great strides. Jake, please don’t implement new communications protocols without consulting me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Fine. Now that we’ve handled the important stuff, Stewart?” He moved to his seat adjacent to President MacDougal, who was seated at the head of the table.

MacDougal remained seated, maintaining the informality of the meeting. “Thanks Tet.”

He looked at Mauss and Nabarone, since Tet and Maggi knew what he’d be discussing. “The Federation is already at war with the Empire, and we need to discuss how we can help President Strickland’s presentation to Parliament this week sound compatible with our position, and current activities. Even if Parliament isn’t ready to declare war on the Thandol Empire, they may be willing to conduct secret surveillance within the Empire, using the Scouts we’re providing.

“Perhaps they may authorize contacts with some of the species inside the Empire that are supportive of the Federation, and are hopeful that they might finally shed the yoke of the Thandol domination.

“Regardless of the PU’s position after this week, the Federation has ongoing activity inside the Thandol Empire. We hope they will join with us, but we can’t wait for the Emperor to launch attacks. While we’re talking to her, I have authorized Tet to send three teams into the Empire, to establish contact with the Ragnar, Finth, and Thack Delos.

“There are ten Scouts per team, and they are not diplomatic missions. They’re more in line with soldier-diplomats. They went in heavily armed, for such small craft, and after the discussion I just heard about the best use of our gravity projectors, I sense our teams are a much greater threat to the enemy than I believed when I sent them.

“Golda, Henry, when we finish our discussion today, I’d like to ask you to Mind Tap the rest of us here on how your Scouts performed, using the gravity projectors without using the rods. Then we can Comtap our three teams, so they might find better ways to impress the three security forces we’d like to subvert to our cause. The overthrow of the Thandol Empire.”

There was a lot to talk about and to decide, and strategy to revise on the fly. With T-cubed speeds, it didn’t seem like they had enough time to think plans through anymore. It was becoming a smaller galaxy.

Chapter 2: PU Scouts go Rogue

“We need to think on the fly, Adriana. The Galaxy isn’t as vast as it once seemed, back before T-cubed travel.” President Strickland was pleased she had finally surprised her Vice President, by being more aggressive and impulsive than the former Joint Chiefs of Staff Chairfem had expected of her. “Our Scout pilots need the experience, the Thandol have it coming to them, and I’m damned if I’ll sit on my thumbs and wait for an inevitable war to come to us. Not this time, so I sent them after that Rogue 1 base.”

Shaking her head in delight, not in disagreement, Bledso gave her superior proper credit. “I would have recommended a similar raid, but I didn’t think you would agree. There’s a chance we can take out a nice chunk of the Thandol fleet before they get a chance to strike us, or to hit at the Federation. If we can get in and out as sneaky as Mirikami did at Rogue 2, they won’t even know it was the PU.”

Strickland agreed. “I don’t see why we can’t do that successfully. We have the same stealth, and it was our experienced pilots that taught the Kobani how to properly fight their new ships.”

“Uh, Madam President? You should stop saying that.”

“Saying what?”

“Always calling the Federation humans Kobani, as if our own Scout crews were not our Kobani.”

“Oh. You’re right. I’ve been thinking of the term Kobani as a political distinction, the face of the Federation I think of when we negotiate with them. It’s only a genetic racial classification, of course, for the Federation citizens that also happen to be humans.

“Our own Kobani flew our Scouts, and discovered the best way to use the gravity projectors. I know they’re loyal to the Planetary Union, and using the name Kobani as an alternate word for the Federation isn’t recognizing the fact our pilots are humans with an allegiance to the PU. I’ll make it a point to quit using the term Kobani that way.”

“Please do, Mam. I don’t doubt our converts feel a level of affinity for Koban, where their new genes originated, but that isn’t their home, and ninety eight percent of their genes are like yours and mine. They have predominately normal human genes, and so do the humans in the Federation. Our converts came from worlds all around Human Space, Rim worlds and Hub worlds. That’s why I’ve trusted the instincts of the Federation humans, with regards to their intentions towards us. The older generation Federation Kobani all originated on worlds in Human Space. Even their children, born on Koban, feel a strong kinship with us. It’s instinctive.”

“What about the alien citizens of the Federation? Think they have the same instincts?”

“No, Mam, at least not those that are needed to preserve humanity. They want to preserve their own species. But they were helpless against the Krall, and humanity saved them. They know they wouldn’t have survived indefinitely under Krall rule, and they would be indentured servants under Thandol rule. Even if they harbor some distrust of humanity’s long term effects on their future, and they worry about how powerful we can become, they know who their better friends are.”

“I hope so. MacDougal told me that the Prada, Raspani, and Torki will have Scouts and some of the Mark II’s, equipped as warships for their use.”

“And the Krall’tapi will have them too, Mam. They’re also Federation citizens, and they want to fight to retain their freedom. Mirikami says that the Olt’kitapi are moving back to some of their old star systems in Federation space. They may become Federation citizens as well, although it remains to be seen if they can or will fight this time, if threatened.”

“Adriana, don’t you think Human Space seems provincial by comparison to the Federation, despite our far larger population and so many settled worlds? We need to expand our horizons or be left behind.”

“Joining the fight against the Empire will put us on that road, Mam. Opening trade with the Federation, and permitting immigrations of aliens to Human Space will help do that too. In few hundred years, I think we’ll have a much more blended interstellar society. No. Not just interstellar, but the start of a galactic civilization.”

“Looking rather far ahead, aren’t you? Me too. Before this war is over, I believe all our armed forces will be Kobani converts, and when they return home to our worlds, they’ll transform society in the PU. Their experiences out in the galaxy, with the multitude of aliens they will have met, will suffuse through the public, changing their attitudes.”

“Some of those aliens they will meet will be killed in the process, Mam. I guess that might be an object lesson for our future antagonist’s in the Milky Way.”

“That will make us a force to be reckoned with. Adriana, the Federation is so large, and the Krall left it nearly unpopulated. We’ve been stalled in our expansion for three centuries after the Collapse. MacDougal and Mirikami have offered us room, and good worlds to expand onto again, and I will encourage acceptance. We’re going to experience a new age of exploration and growth, which will make our first five hundred years in space seem tame.”

“Well, we do need to win this war first, Mam.”

“Yes, there is that awkward little detail.”

****

“Fifteen minutes until White Out.” Chief Grant, an old PU navy man, continued to use the outmoded term, instead of the currently popular set of new Jump reentry terms, like Exit, Emergence, or the sloppier slang term Pop-out. There were no bursts of radiation with these Scouts when they entered Normal Space, thus no White Out from a spray of high energy gammas. With their advanced stealth systems and low masses, they were told they’d be undetectable by the Thandol monitors, who watched for tachyon wakes and gamma ray bursts. Assuming there was even a secret naval base near the coordinates they’d been furnished, and the enemy was watching for unexpected arrivals.

Using his Comtap was quite familiar to Grant now, as it was to most of the four person teams of each Scout. There were a handful of participants, captains of their own Scouts, who had been using Comtaps for years. These were former spec ops from the PU army, who had been the first to receive secret Kobani gene mods. However, this was a navy mission, and the top navy brass had wanted a career naval officer in charge. They had to compromise. Not having any officers with Kobani genes yet, they were forced to seek the highest ranking enlisted personnel with the gene mods, and Chief Petty Officer Albert Grant, of the heavy cruiser Claw, was who they found.

It was now forgivable to excuse those personnel who had opted to volunteer for the formerly illegal gene mods prior to the forgiveness policy of all branches of the military, which had now been implemented. The new policy also permitted officers to volunteer for the mods once they had been granted approval to rescind their original oaths of service, should they so choose, and then swore anew to uphold the new oaths. The latter did not subject them to the civil legal penalties for genetic modifications, which were still in effect in Planetary Union law, and would take longer to overturn. The war effort couldn’t wait for the civilians.

Captain Danforth of the Claw, a navy heavy cruiser once under the overall command of Admiral Foxworthy’s old Poldark squadron, regretted the loss of her best NCO, Chief Grant, once a security chief for her. He was put in charge of the Rogue 1 mission, leading two ten ship squadrons of Scouts.

Serving on the Claw, he’d once met Captain Joe Longstreet, Sergeant First Class Bill Crager, and a Corporal Eddie Condor, when they were on a capture mission to recover a live high-ranking Krall who was falling out of orbit over Poldark.

Condor was now a sergeant in spec ops, and was Chief Grant’s second in command, leading the second Scout squadron. “Big Bird” Condor was the ranking spec ops of the only two full Kobani on the mission, both with Mind Tap capability.

Grant selected Condor’s Comtap address. “Hey, Big Bird. You Tapped that crusher captain to learn the location of this Neptune sized rogue planet. Did you get any details about the moon used for the base, or how many moons there are?”

“Chief, that officer had never been to any of the hidden bases. The eight Crushers were always Jumping to various planets of subservient species, showing off the Empire’s muscles. The two Crushers that Mirikami found at Rogue 1 had made their first visits there, to join the fleet they intended to send to Tanner’s World. Captain Halder’s thought, when I asked about a hidden base in Security Sector one, was that he’d have to report by radio to the base commander, and then get precise navigation to the proper moon. He thought there were two moons used, one for large ships, one for smaller craft, with specialized facilities for each.”

“OK. I was going to split your group off early, to start simultaneous attacks if there’s a second moon used. Stay with me until we know if we have two targets or just the one. It shouldn’t take us long to decide if we should split.”

It didn’t. They should have.

Fifteen minutes later, staying together proved to be disastrous. Eleven of the closely grouped twenty Scouts were either disintegrated entirely, or partially cleaved, when they emerged in a field of thousands of Decoherence bombs, which promptly projected their two hundred forty-four-foot diameter spherical fields of fifth force, breaking the quantum electromagnetic bonds that maintained the illusion of solid matter.

The Scouts nearest the center of the cluster of twenty ships suffered the highest number of losses. Kobani reactions immediately scattered the nine untouched Scouts, as if they were shrapnel exploding away from a blast. Most Comtap messages were from the intact ships, but a number were from the crews of the four Scouts that were at the edge of the disintegration range of the Decoherence bombs that vaporized only part of their vessels.

Or, a part of a crewmember in some cases. The latter were the most difficult messages to receive. The suits had perforation and joint sealing capability in space, but couldn’t seal an opening the diameter of a limb or torso. Those pleas for help ended quickly when the victims died from the sudden decompression.

Four survivors were in intact suits, but one of those apparently fell victim to additional Decoherence bombs, which were fired at the now visible debris field of partial Scouts. The survivors had pushed off from the wreckage of their ships, to get away from what they instantly recognized as tempting targets for the several dozen Smashers that were near one of the airless moons of a now nearly solid ice ball of a greatly contracted Neptune massed ice giant.

Activating their suit stealth made them invisible to electromagnetic detection, but proximity to the wreckage and the vapor cloud from the disintegrated matter placed them at the center of the targeted area. It was one of the randomly emerging Decoherence bombs that vaporized a survivor.

Condor and a crewmate were two of the survivors. After kicking away from the partial shell of their Scout, he transmitted to any survivors, “Use your suit’s reactionless thrusters, built into the Trap fields in the butt. It’s only a quarter pound of thrust, but aim yourself away from the debris. When you’re clear, one of the other Scouts can pick you up. I see puffs of gas appearing around me, so they’re still firing at anything they see drifting.”

Grant was sounding confused and desperate. “Damn, Eddie, I’ll leave someone to pick you guys up, but unless we stop their firing, you three aren’t likely to get away. You can’t move fast enough. I don’t know how they spotted us, but they were sure laying for us. There’s thirty of them moving towards you from that moon. Eight of us should be able to drive them off or distract them. We need to keep on the move until we figure out what went wrong.”

“We’re all headed in different directions, and I think Manfred was just a random hit because he was still too close to that piece of his ship. I don’t think they can see through our stealth because the three if us are still alive. You need to go get ‘em for us. We either make it or we don’t, but you can’t let the bastards get away without paying something.”

“You got it.”

Even with his suit optics showing their positions, the Smashers were invisible to his unaided eyes at a range of a couple thousand miles, and the desolate moon was faintly visible behind them, with the dark blot of the giant planet like a stain on the background stars. There was enough starlight that the suit optics could see the moon and planet, but not the ships, with their own stealth activated.

Suddenly, five separate and brilliant blue-white plasma flares appeared against the face of the moon or the giant planet. Those were smashers whose fusion bottles had ruptured. Three more flares quickly followed them, and one of those was largely swallowed, as what was likely a larger event horizon pulled the debris into its voracious maw. Then nothing.

“Shit, we only got eight before they Jumped.” Grant furnished the unasked explanation.

“We’re scanning to see if we can spot them elsewhere in the system. Their piss poor stealth left them sitting ducks for us, but we only got some of them with our first shots before they Jumped.” Next, he wanted the survivors rescued.

“Julie, move in to pick up our people, but be quick. They may have only ghosted, and could come right back, ready to fire at any rescue ships.”

“Yes, Sir, she answered. “I’m next to Agular now, and I’ll have the other two in a few minutes.”

Condor was the last to enter the airlock. “Chief, I don’t think they saw through our suit stealth. They fired a lot of shots at even small pieces of debris, proving they could see that. Manfred was drifting close to the largest piece of his Scout’s hull, but not close enough for him to push off, as the rest of us did. He couldn’t get far enough away before they shot at what they could see, and I don’t believe it was him they aimed at, or they’d have gotten us all.”

“Then how did they see the Scouts, which have the same stealth coatings?”

“Not sure. Ask the various AI’s if they detected long wave radio, which can detect us, but has poor resolution.”

The answer came back immediately. “No long wave radio signals detected, and we always monitor for those frequencies. However, the AI’s agree that the Decoherence bombs started arriving in the seconds before we emerged, and came in a pattern that was centered on our formation. They saw our masses or our tachyon wave coming. Apparently, they have tachyon wave detectors that can see a Scout moving at T-cubed velocity. Mirikami said they didn’t appear to see his ships when he attacked them.”

“That’s pretty fast development for the Thandol. We assume they’ll work to increase monitor sensitivity, just as we’re doing with our detectors. Except this example would not appear to be just in development; it would have to be an operational system if it’s deployed way out here.”

“Well, Mirikami thinks Scouts are so small they don’t make tachyon wakes much above the background noise level, and their mass is well below current mass detector sensitivity after they reach Normal Space. Besides, they had fired on us before we rotated to Normal Space, so it wasn’t mass detection.”

“Hey.” Condor had a thought. “We came in all together. Twenty of us. How does that effect the tachyon wake profile? What’s our combined mass as we approached?”

There was moment of stunned silence, then, “Oh, God, Eddie, I caused this. I used a standard navy formation. I’ve never commanded an action like this. Our clustered and combined masses made a detectible wake.”

“Chief, none of us here have, and I’ve been a Kobani convert for years longer than you. I didn’t think of that either. Being Kobani doesn’t make you perfect, but believe me when I say you never forget a hard lesson learned. We all learned that today, and we’ll share that knowledge. For now, we have a mission to finish.”

“They Jumped, and the moon base seems deserted. They anticipated a raid. What’s left to attack?”

“Which of our Scouts has tachyon wake monitor capability?” Asked Condor.

The Chief answered. “Mine does.”

“Ask your AI which way they went. Let’s follow their asses.”

In seconds, they had a course, and nine Scouts Jumped together, spreading out widely before the Jump, and coordinating with Comtap to stay with the lead Scout.

****

“Commander Jistolra, how many Federation ships do you think we destroyed? My mass detectors saw only a diffuse dispersion after they arrived, and no well-defined individual ships.” The question came from the Sensor Division Lieutenant, who had first reported the advance tachyon wave of the approaching enemy. He was still basking in the praise he’d received when their ambush had worked better than anticipated.

The thirty Smashers had been waiting for an attack on this base for twenty-nine cycles, having evacuated the major fleet elements based here thirty cycles ago. They had left thirty Smashers on continuous combat patrol, always ready to launch Decoherence bombs. Three monitor ships constantly rotated duty, to watch for the expected incoming attacks. Having found one base, it was assumed the Federation knew about all three, and would strike at them.

“The bombs fully vaporized what must have been small ships, destroying those closest to the center of their formation. The volume of gas provides an estimate of size and numbers, as did the size of the partial hulls that were revealed when their stealth failed on the damaged craft. I estimate perhaps twenty were destroyed, and I assume there were fifty human crew aboard each.”

He estimated on the high side, of course, for his own benefit. He’d lost eight Smashers, with more than two hundred crewmembers aboard each, before he quickly ordered the squadron to Jump for their new base.

“We will send ships back to examine the area later. There may be parts of the destroyed ships we can salvage and study. For now, we have protected thousands of our ships that will soon be pounding human population centers into submission. For performing my duty today, I hope to be granted leadership for one of those attacks.”

His optimistic assessment of what his reward would be was reasonable, assuming the status remained quo. Fate is fickle, and kindness an irrelevant concept.

The twenty-two Smashers needed but a cycle and a half to reach the newly established base, located at the edge of a modest star void, where Rogue 1 had been found. This was also an ancient and dead system, with a white dwarf star remnant, and three gas giants that had survived the red giant phase of their dying star when it had bloated to engulf and absorb the inner planets. The former planetary nebulae, formed from the star’s cast-off outer layers, was now extremely tenuous after the passage of hundreds of millions of years.

The moons of the giant planets provided resources, and for now the Thandol had Jumped mobile docks here, and sent several orbital stations for habitats. This base was expected to become as elaborate as the repair docks that were destroyed at Meglor, but would be used only by the Thandol navy, and thus could remain a secret installation.

While still inbound, Jistolra made his preliminary report to his superior, the base commander of Sector one’s new Fleet Staging area number one, transferring the sensor recordings of his just completed actions at Rogue 1. His ship was the first to dock of his squadron, at the main habitat orbital station where he would meet with the base commander and his intelligence staff.

He let his Smasher captains work with the overworked traffic control center as to where his other arriving ships would dock. The new base was a busy hub of activity, trying to organize the merging of fleet elements from Rogue 1 with Thandol fleet elements being transferred from more public planetary docks.

The Thandol were preparing two sizable fleets to follow up on attacks after their three security forces completed their initial bombardments. A third fleet, the largest, was being assembled for defense of important Thandol star systems, and as a deterrence against opportunistic and rebellious actions by the mobilized fleets of their security forces.

Commander Jistolra entered the headquarters station VIP receiving area adjacent to the multiple airlocks that permitted personnel and supplies easy access to his ship. He had just braced himself in the tube shuttle car that would transport him to the base commander’s headquarters. The startup jolt was stronger than expected, and he first thought it was a rare malfunction, until the shrieking bugling tone of an alarm sounded. It was accompanied by additional shudders, and a loud whistling tone that any spacer feared hearing. It was the sound of atmosphere rapidly screaming towards a large breach, howling its way into vacuum.

His Vice Captain reached him on a priority channel of his memcache. “Commander Jistolra, the ship has been hit, a fusion bottle ruptured, and we have been torn free of the airlocks and the station is open to space. Take shelter. It must be…”

The transmission ended abruptly, and through the rear window of the shuttle car, he saw many Thandol waiting on the boarding ramp skidding along the deck in a maelstrom of wind, where they were unable to hold tight enough to fixed objects to prevent being ripped free. Rapid decompression triggered condensation of moisture as the pressure plummeted, but that was brief.

A wall along the shuttle’s boarding ramp ruptured outward due to the pressure difference, and beyond that, as the suddenly clear view revealed, Thandol bodies, loose equipment and decorations, and unidentifiable objects, were tumbling into vacuum.

The voluminous bodies of the doomed Thandol swelled, and their abdomens burst, as internal pressures sought equilibrium with the vacuum around them. What was left of his ship was crumpling inwards in jerky fits and starts as sturdy hull support members futilely, and only momentarily, fought the immense gravitational forces swallowing the large vessel.

Jistolra also felt that tug, and as artificial gravity failed in this section of the station, he drifted to the rear of the car, in what felt like down, now. The car suddenly started a freefall towards where his proud ship was succumbing to the force of a four-foot diameter event horizon pulling everything in, creating a brilliant accretion disk from the immense friction between metal and atmospheric station gasses swirling at near light speed, just before crossing the relentless event horizon. There were blindingly bright, flickering dual plasma jets spewing away from the black hole, matching the axis of the accretion disk, intensifying each time the black hole was fed more matter in bulk. Powerful magnetic forces diverted some of the ionized matter around the curve of the event horizon, and into the jets, where that material escaped.

He thought he was about to join his ship and crew, and the other swallowed and spaghettified Thandol bodies and debris which had been pulled from the station. The shuttle car started accelerating rapidly to meet its doom, when abruptly, the black hole rotated out of Normal Space and vanished, leaving him on a trajectory into space. Providing him with a survivor’s view that he’d rather not recall later.

****

Chief Grant wasn’t in a mood to hold back before they started the attack. On a group link to all nine Scouts, he made their goals clear. “We lost eleven Scouts and forty-one people. The preliminary AI count reports there might be as many as four thousand ships here, for a hundred to one payback for our people. Spread out, and try not to let any ships escape. I just took out the command ship of the Smasher squadron that ambushed us.

“The other twenty-two Smashers have either docked elsewhere, or seem to be under remote local traffic control for auto docking. Concentrate on those Smashers first, because they have full crews and might be able to Jump to safety. Then wipe out every dammed dock or warship of any class you see.”

Condor was at the weapons console of the ship that had rescued him, and had already swept a foot-wide event horizon through three Smashers that had just docked. The smaller mass black holes could be moved faster, and could be reversed or redirected more easily. He could return to completely engulf disabled ships later, with a more massive and wider event horizon. No point in leaving spare parts behind for easier repairs.

He did have one question, although the preferred answer was clear in his mind. However, Chief Grant was in overall command. “Chief, this is a military base. Are the docks and habitats authorized targets?”

The answer was immediate. “Leave nothing intact for reuse. We shouldn’t try to kill every single Thandol here, but if they’re on a valid target, they’ll take their chances. The squadron leader’s ship was docked at the largest orbital station, which I think is their base headquarters. I’m eliminating that next. Let any escape pods get away.”

Before Condor even acknowledged Grant’s orders, the other seven Scouts had vanquished the other eighteen Smashers they had followed to the base, just as quickly as they could maneuver their small event horizons, and were now disabling every warship they could find.

Smashers and Stranglers, undocking to flee or fight, suddenly flared plasma from ruptured fusion generators at their centers, or imploded if a larger event horizon tore into them and pulled everything inwards. There seldom were many escape pods from such ships, which was more due to their not having full crews. When the repair docks, habitats, and orbital stations were attacked, thousands of escape pods spewed from those, because of the advanced warning that an attack was imminent.

Dozens of ships did manage to escape by Jumps, although most of those were the initially ignored Shredder class, which despite their larger size when compared to equivalent former PU navy ships, were functionally what the navy once called destroyers. The Krall, and then the Kobani, had made that class of ship redundant when used to screen larger fleet elements from standoff attacks by another fleet.

Kobani rarely, if ever, stood-off and fought from a distance. They used their seat-of-the-pants flight skills, faster reactions, and physical strength to absorb greater uncompensated inertial forces to enter enemy fleet formations, and fought them at close range, micro Jumping away to strike at another location. This way, they bypassed the screening purpose served by destroyers, which were tactical holdovers from an ancient era of two-dimensional sea warfare, conducted on the surface of planets. The PU attackers left those smaller craft, their docks, service modules, and habitats, as the last ones to be destroyed. They had the highest survival rates of any other part of the expansive base, which orbited a nearly terrestrial planet sized dead and airless moon of another frozen gas giant.

There were relatively few Stompers or Stranglers at the base. The Thandol seldom employed ground troops, and most Stranglers had been loaned out to their security forces.

“Big Bird, Hannibal reports his AI found surface installations on this big moon. I want you to help him knock them out.”

“Who’s that again, Chief?”

“He’s spec ops in my squadron. How could you not know him? Oh, right. I suppose you don’t personally know all hundred thousand plus men in all your units. His full name is Hannibal Hickok, you may have heard of him as Wild Bill, his nickname. It looks like the Thandol were planning to mine ore here, refine it, and build ship structural components where they had the raw materials. It could have become a full shipyard.

“While the rest of us demolish the support ships and supply stores in orbit, you and Wild Bill will eliminate the ground installations.”

“OK. My visor icon shows where he is. I’ll drop down and join him. I’m curious to see how effective a small black hole is on surface installations.”

After a micro Jump, he was adjacent to the Scout of the spec ops captain, bearing a nickname he did recall hearing mentioned previously.

“Hey, Wild Bill, what have you found? Grant asked us to work with you to create some rubble piles.”

“Hi, and welcome. Let me Comtap you what we’ve found.” The coordinates and images came to Condor and his crew mates.

“Four different installations, I see. Two for mining, and two ore processing foundries and manufacturing sites nearby. There are habitat domes at all four sites, but I don’t think we need to hit those. I think this base will soon be just as abandoned as Rogue 1 was, now that they know we know where the base is located. Those surviving low-rank pachyderms can serve as eye witnesses to what we can do to them. Which installations do you want me to hit?”

“I’d like you to try to hit any damned one of them. I want to see if you’re more successful than we were.” That sounded more cryptic than it did a challenge to shoot straighter.

“OK.”

Condor aimed a sensor at a mining site, obtained the precise coordinates and fed them to the AI, which used the two gravity projectors to generate a small black hole located roughly halfway towards the moon’s surface.

He used a joy stick to alter the focal point of the black hole to send the foot-wide event horizon hurtling towards the spot on the surface where he’d placed the reticle of his targeting system. He could have done that via mental Comtap control, but he chose the manual method.

The pip on his system, which represented the black hole “projectile’s” position, abruptly blinked off just prior to arrival, and nothing happened to the mining site. Frowning, Condor repeated his commands using his Comtap to instruct the AI to form another black hole, and he directed its movement at the same spot, with the same result. The pip representing the black hole vanished.

Hickok grunted. “Well, that proves it wasn’t something me or Janice did wrong, and it isn’t our projectors. We couldn’t hit anything on the surface either. This is as new a weapon to me as it is to you. Any idea of what’s going wrong? Are they rotating into Tachyon Space?”

“Let me check something Wild Bill.” Playing back what his suit’s AI recorded of the black hole’s track, he paused the playback at the instant the target pip vanished. He mentally commanded the visor’s spectrum analyzer towards much higher frequencies. To gamma ray levels, in fact. There had been an unseen flash recorded by his visor.

“Damn. They didn’t rotate into tachyon space before we sent that command. I think the event horizons evaporated. There was a small gamma ray flash, which we naturally couldn’t see if not looking for that. Let me try a four-foot-wide event horizon, instead of the smaller one.”

That gamma flash was brighter, but it occurred over a half mile above the surface. He formed another one that was the width of the end of his little finger. From their height of fifty miles, he needed the ship’s more sensitive sensors to detect the miniscule gamma ray burst, which occurred only a few hundred feet above the surface.

“I’ll be damned. The holes are evaporating before they reach the surface. The larger they are, the earlier they vanish. I don’t know about your team, but the only black hole target practice my crew took with our new Scouts was on the small clanship debris still in low orbits over New West Africa. The nonmagnetic stuff left behind from the fleet battles, which the orbital rail guns can’t collect. We were ordered not to shoot at targets on the planet or moon, for fear our black holes might not enter Tachyon Space when we ordered the rotations. I don’t think we can shoot down into stronger gravity wells.”

Hickok offered a counter argument. “Well, after we tried black holes to do the damage, we fired some of our gravity rods at designated targets on that same moon. They all hit.”

Condor thought for a moment. “Sounds right. Before we discovered black holes were the better projectiles, we used our event horizons to steer and accelerate the rods, by gravitational attraction, towards the target we wanted to hit. We always rotated the holes into Tachyon Space well before impact, like we were instructed to do to avoid a gamma flash of evaporation.

“What if we’d simply opened the Trap fields that were holding the tachyon energy to form the event horizons, instead of rotating them into Tachyon Space? We’d see a gamma ray burst. Gamma rays don’t happen when we rotate into Tachyon Space, only when we return to Normal Space and let the black holes evaporate. At least we spewed the radiation until these new T-cubed ships were designed to delay their second rotation to Normal Space, to allow time to for the event horizon of the first rotation to swallow the gamma rays.”

“I get your meaning. Our Trap fields are releasing their energy, causing that burst before our holes can reach the surface. That sounds kind of like the problem our old model ships had in trying to form a Trap field on a planet for a Jump. How are Scouts able to depart from a planet’s gravity well if that’s the case?”

“We do that at T-cubed level, with ultra-high-energy tachyons, and the Trap fields form the event horizon virtually against our hulls with millions of tiny embedded antennas, not projected many miles away, like we’re doing here. The gravitational force drops off quickly with the square of the distance from the Trap antennas being used. When four times farther away, it’s only 1/16th as strong. We need to report this limitation when we get back, but for now, we’ll use the gravity rod magazines we have in storage, and hit the targets on the moon that way.”

The PU Scout report eventually made it back to Koban. But they weren’t the only observers, and the Thandol also sent ships to investigate the aborted attack at Rogue 1. Nothing stays secret indefinitely.

****

Delthab Trindal, the Thandol Military High Commander, personally led the squadron that investigated what happened at Rogue 1, and at the new Fleet Staging area for Security Sector one. “We can be grateful our Decoherence bombs were not perfectly effective this time. We have salvaged valuable technology, and even if the destruction of the new base is a terrible loss, that too has revealed clues to enemy technology, and more importantly, to some of its limitations. I will urge the Emperor to order a full scale scientific mobilization to study what we have learned and collected.”

He softly trumpeted his trunks in a pensive manner, concern reflected in the notes. “That is, if the Emperor’s current mysterious illness permits him to think rationally. He has quarantined himself from any direct outside contact. His closest advisors say it is out of concern for the safety of others, but those advisors also are experiencing signs of physical distress, and yet they are speaking to those outside the Imperial Palace. The most prominent physicians on Wendal have been called to the Palace. I think the Emperor is concerned that his life is at risk, and is maintaining his isolation for that reason.”

A loyal subordinate shifted uncomfortably, before bugling softly, to avoid being overheard by other nearby noble officers. “Sire, I have heard from a third cousin of mine, who manages one of the gardens of the Imperial Forest on Wendal. There have been solicitations for applications to work in the Palace gardens. It is interesting”

Matching the soft tone, Trindal asked, “Why is that of interest? Only the oldest and most experienced gardeners are selected. I’ve see them many times when I’ve grazed with the Emperor. They live there until old age takes them, honored in their privileged positions.”

“My cousin says he is happy he is not old enough to apply now. There are openings for ten gardeners, of the sixteen usually assigned. He said there are normally only one or two solicitations in several orbits. Ten at once suggests an unusual number of deaths among palace gardeners. They may have succumbed to whatever aliment has stricken the Emperor, and they are old. But they receive excellent health care, and the best of foods, since they dine regularly on sugar spears. Ten gardeners replaced at once suggests some sort of purge, and my cousin says the relatives of those presently serving in the Palace have not heard from their elder herd members, and have been unable to contact them.”

Trindal, having lived through previous palace intrigues, thought it best to avoid the problem. “I will be sure to make my report indirectly, or send it with an aide. Not you of course.”

“Thank you, Sire.”

“Do you have the summary report prepared, from our interrogation of Gimtal Thond? That must accompany the report of our ambush of the raiders at Rogue 1, and their subsequent destruction of this base. These attacks seem to be related to the Federation’s defense of what Thond claims is a human world that is not part of the Federation.”

“I do, Sire. It is in this file.” He transmitted a document to his superior’s memcache.

“I’m skeptical of Thond’s assessment, Sire. That this alleged independent planet of Tanner’s is said to be loosely affiliated with an entirely unknown, and human based government called the Planetary Union, which is separate from the Galactic Federation. Could that be his attempt to obfuscate or cover up the Ragnar failure to successfully invade that human world? Our surprise inspection at Tantor is the only reason we discovered the recent activity of their fleet, and the damage and losses they had apparently suffered. He admitted the attack they attempted, but only after he was recalledto face the High Command’s questioning.”

Trindal was less inclined to doubt every assertion Thond had made. “He claims he was unaware the human planet was the intended target of the fleet we were gathering at Rogue 2. How could he know? We kept that discovery a secret, and the fleet we were gathering at a secret base wasn’t even in the Ragnar Security Sector. Like us, they assumed it was a Federation planet, until forced to withdraw their fleet and ground forces.”

He wiggled his trunks and tentacles, indicating reluctant acceptance of another claim by Thond. “His claim that the Federation had ships with far superior stealth than ours, and a class of ships that can Jump directly into a gravity well and an atmosphere, seems validated now.

“Except, how did the Ragnar fleet defend against the black holes we faced, or the ultra-high velocity projectiles? Those are gravity controlled weapons, and seem frighteningly related to the Olt’kitapi planet destroying capability. Evidently, the Federation captured some of that technology from the Krall.”

“Sire, it’s obvious the Ragnar couldn’t have been attacked by the weapons used here, as we were. Otherwise, their fleet would not have escaped largely intact. Unless they fled very early in the counter attack.”

“The Ragnar are forced to do as we order them to do, but I refuse to believe they would have fled like rodents against the humans on first contact in a fight. For some reason, the humans didn’t use the same weapons against them. They are proving to be a perplexing species to fight. Their attacks range from small sneak attacks, using old Krall ships with improved technology, and then flee. Next, we experience all out destruction, with advanced ships and weapons. Who are these humans that call themselves Kobani, that Thond says have forced him to withdraw from two space battles?”

“What will you do with him Sire? Will you recommend his execution to the Emperor, as half of the members of the High Command voted?”

“Not now. His improbable stories have proven to be partly true, and we will need our three security forces to absorb the initial losses of fighting the Federation, and that mysterious Planetary Union, if it exists. After we complete this investigation and return to Wendal, I will send Thond home, to mount the attack the Emperor ordered. He will do that better than his Ground Force Commander, who he left in charge of their military when we recalled him.”

****

Mirikami felt a mixture of satisfaction, dismay, and worry. He was sharing with MacDougal and Maggi what Nabarone and Mauss had reported to him, about the PU’s first foray against the Empire.

“President Strickland showed her political backbone, sending twenty of her fifty new Scouts into Empire territory, to attack the hidden base in Sector one. Unfortunately, she didn’t send an advanced Scout probe, to verify if the coordinates we furnished were accurate, and what was there. The lurking Thandol squadron and the empty base would have been detected safely, using just a few Scouts. Although, I doubt the president was directly involved with mission planning. This appears to show a bit of over eagerness to get involved.

“The twenty scouts weren’t led by people with experience infiltrating that deep into the Empire, because we’re the only ones to have done that. I suspect it was pride that led them to bypass consulting with us on our experiences, thinking that sending an all Kobani force was adequate. Their Kobani abilities did pull their bacon out of the fire, but our prior experience could have helped them avoid the fire. We paid our dues at Meglor. They should have arrived with their Scouts more widely dispersed, using a staggered arrival, to reduce the chance of detection via their combined masses.

“Even so, after losing over half their force, they did a Hell of a job driving off the ambushers, and then smartly followed the Thandol squadron to the new base. They did more damage to the Thandol navy than we did at Rogue 2. They let damn few ships escape with their rapid control of small black holes. No need to fire one gravity rod at a time, nursing it along with acceleration and guidance, for a single strike, or steering a crusher at parked ships. There were no parked ships or Crushers at the new base anyway.

“They simply plunged one black hole through multiple ships and docks, and then brought it back for another pass. Big holes swallowed whole ships, but can’t act as fast. Either way, they were very destructive, and you won’t run out of ammunition.”

Maggi, who knew Tet’s mannerisms well, asked, “What’s bothering you though. You praised their actions, but your expression tells me something’s got you concerned.”

“It was their inability to take out targets on the surface of that large moon, without use of the slower and less effective gravity rods. This was almost an afterthought, near the end of the report. I’ve put in a call to Max Born, who was in a technical meeting and had disabled all outside Comtap links. I asked the Xenos city AI to monitor when Max is available, and to give him my message. I think we need to know why the Scouts couldn’t send black holes down to the surface of an airless moon. Dismantlers, the Mark II class ship, and Scouts, all can form black holes deep in gravity wells, and Jump from planets or moons, and we can Jump deep into those wells, to land.”

MacDougal saw what bothered him. “Yet, we couldn’t send a small, weaponized black hole there, to attack enemy targets. Yes. I can see why that concerns you. It’s a limitation on our newest weapon.”

“It goes deeper than that for me, Stewart, and I have questions, which could involve Dismantlers having the answers. Unfortunately, I will not risk offending them, or the Olt’kitapi, by asking them for information on this subject again. They never wanted anyone to have their gravity manipulation technology, because the Krall proved it could prove to be more valuable as a weapon to an unscrupulous species, than a tool to build a great civilization. I think we need to fully understand both sides of this double-edged sword. I’ll wait until Max is available to talk to me, but I sense a serious issue.” He was pulling at his lower lip, a sure sign he was looking for a solution to a future problem.

Chapter 3: Ragnar Team

“How diplomatic do we have to be with those hairy assholes?” Sarge wanted to know. “Thond didn’t keep his word to tell the Thandol to back off the worlds in Human Space.”

He had been griping the entire three days of the trip, and wasn’t slowing down.

“From the Hothor spies on Wendal, we know the Ragnar accepted a High Command assignment to attack some Federation colony world, perhaps the Prada, who knows? Those busy little fur balls are building like crazy. Don’t get me wrong, I like them, and if it were up to me I’d gladly give them these Scouts to defend themselves. Unfortunately, the Prada can’t fight worth shit, and they only have us to protect them. It may not be them, but I guess we’ll find out. Before last week we didn’t know the Empire had any idea where other colonies were located. There have obviously been some sneaky scout missions into Federation Space that we never even detected. We need more of those PU patrol boats to turn into remote monitors, because they’re going around the ones we put on our border.”

Thad, and the other eight team members had grown tired of hearing his gripes, since there was too little room on the Scout to find much privacy, other than the toilet. That small “library” had been kept busy, becoming a fortress of solitude.

One of the four teammates playing cards, Macy Gundarfem, was tired of hearing the repetitious string of complaints. “Sarge, give it a frigging rest. You’ve come up with different sets of things to bitch about every damn day. The lazy Hothor, the arrogant Thandol, the timid Prada, the lying Ragnar, the fact that you didn’t get to lead the team visiting the Finth, or that we should have the use of one or two MARK II class ships with real mess halls.

“You know we’d have to spend months at level one speed to avoid detection in a Mark II. That length of time would guarantee we’d arrive understrength, with one unfortunate airlock accident to report, about the lone casualty of the mission.” She glanced at him, then at the airlock.

John Yin-Lee, another of the four poker players, offered him a wicked looking smile, as support for Gundarfem’s not so subtle hint.

Mel Rigson, also a player, said, “Pipe the Hell down Sarge. We all conspired by Comtap to win your credits, and then refused to loan you more, just to keep you out of the games so we could rest our ears.”

“I knew it!” he crowed. “You told me I was a sore loser, a crappy poker player, and the cards just didn’t come my way.”

He looked to Greeves, the mission leader, for support. “Thad, you heard that admission. They cheated me. What are you going to do, boss man?”

Shrugging, he said, “I’ll give you back half your credits when we get home.”

“Huh? Only half? Wait, how do you know how much I even lost?”

“It was my idea, just like the time we took those kids on the Krall resettlement runs. You bilked them out of their poker money on that trip, you jackass. I kept track this time, and the others handed over what they won from you after the games ended each night, until you went broke. I’m not returning the pair of socks you called with on your final hand. They were worthless, and you lied about them being fresh and new. I recycled them. The half of your credits I’m not returning will buy rhinolo steak dinners, just for the eight of them when we get back, and you won’t be invited. Go be a jerk on your own time, while they have a congenial and peaceful meal at your expense. You owe them that.”

There was an exaggerated look of horror on Reynold’s face. “This is how you’d treat your best friend, for simply talking too much in a poker game?”

“Humph,” was Thad’s prompt and eloquent reply. “Need I remind you of the time you paid my wife for flight lessons, using my IOU to you for poker losses? You knew she didn’t know how much I’d lost, or that I’d even played cards when I lied and said I was giving you, a dumb damn ground pounder, shuttle flight lessons. That IOU cost me far more in marital grief than those damned credits, you know.”

“I didn’t rat you out, damn it. I’d never have done that. She learned about the game by Mind Tap, before you figured out how to control your guilty thoughts while in the throes of passion. I traded that IOU for her expert flight lessons, because you sucked at flying, and she was navy trained. She already knew you’d lost at poker, so you were in hot water anyway. She came to pay off your poker losses, but I didn’t want the money. It was only a hundred credits. She said she wanted that IOU, and she offered me a trade. Flight lessons.”

Thad looked wistful when an old memory floated up from his wolfbat matrix. He grinned, but sounded sad as he described what had happened afterwards. “That crappy little IOU. She never said a word to me, but she had it framed and hung it in the bedroom for a few weeks. It made me be a better husband after that.” He smiled wistfully. “It made you a much better pilot.”

Sarge returned his sad smile. Thad’s wife, Marlyn, was killed above K1, when the Kobani had combined with the PU navy in a fleet battle against the Krall. It dealt a blow to the enemy, but the victory came at a cost.

Sarge made an offer of conciliation. “If you keep all the money, and join the others for dinner, I’ll pay the bar tab too. I’ve been acting like a nervous ass. I’m sorry, everyone. I mean that.”

His apology was accepted, and was told he had to join the party he was going to pay for. Nevertheless, he still wasn’t allowed back into the ongoing poker game. After all, he was out of pocket money and dead broke! It didn’t matter, because the game soon ended when the ten Scouts arrived over Tantor, the Ragnar home world.

Greeves split up the ten stealthed Scouts, sending them on predetermined orbits to learn as much as they could of the planet, and its orbital facilities. A half day later, the reports fleshed out the Ragnar naval presence at home, revealing they were repairing ships damaged at Tanner’s World, and were rushing construction of new Ravagers in orbit, and at several ship yards on the surface of the planet. They appeared to be devoting a great many resources to restoring the fleet, which had suffered losses and damage from the previous fight with the Kobani. It lent credence to the theory, which Tet and Maggi favored, that the Ragnar intended to stay obedient to the Thandol.

Thad intended to stay with the recommended plan, to contact Force Commander Thond, using a specific radio frequency and an encrypted message in the Ragnar language of Fotrol. Parking over the northern pole, he switched off the Scout’s stealth and made an omni directional broadcast.

“Sovereign Gimtal Thond, the Galactic Federation needs to meet with you. Please reply on this frequency.” Then they waited. The AI was prepared to Jump them to safety if there was a hostile reply. Their hull surface was set to a mirrorlike reflective surface, in case high powered lasers were suddenly trained on them.

Cal Branson, who heard the message in Standard, was curious. “Why did it say Thond’s title is Sovereign, and not Force Commander? Is he also the political leader?”

“Not based on what Maggi explained to me, from what she learned on Tanner’s World. The Thandol granted the Imperial rank of Force Commander on Thond, but in the Ragnar government, their elected rulers share three areas of responsibility, Civil, Military, and Legal.

“The political leader of government is Civil Sovereign Gralmor Dendor. He, or she, is equivalent to a prime minister. They can have female leaders in the Civil and Legal branches, but due to Thandol biases, the Military branch leader is always male, and it’s only that person the Thandol will deal with.

“Thond is their elected Military Sovereign, apparently equivalent to the PU’s Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Although, he has more authority than in the PU government, or that Tet has in our Federation government.

“The Legal branch has a Sovereign, but I wasn’t told who that was, and it shouldn’t matter to us anyway. They provide a check on the other two branches of government if there’s a dispute or conflict between their respective areas of responsibility. The Legal branch runs a multitiered court system. The Legal side isn’t permitted to have a Sovereign that was ever affiliated with either one of the other branches, although the courts have members that specialize in civil or military affairs.

“We came to deal with Thond, but he is expected to confer with Civil Sovereign Gralmor Dendor. We aren’t here to conduct diplomatic negotiations. We’ll offer to support them against the Thandol, and demonstrate why the Ragnar should stay the Hell away from Federation worlds.”

Now he had a news flash for all of them, and a Mind Tap to share via Comtap. “I received an important message during the time we were making our surveillance orbits. You’ll never guess what Tet learned about gravity guns when he met with Admiral Mauss. Hint: We don’t need the guns.” There was a burst of negative reactions from each Scout captain.

“Wait! At least hold your questions until you receive a copy of Mauss’ Comtap message and images. If you thought gravity rods were our most dangerous weapon, you won’t think that after this.”

Like Mind Taps, the transfer of data required mere seconds, with a bit more time to assimilate the data.

Thad didn’t change their original plan for the meeting they were requesting. Scout 1, his ship, would land openly wherever the Ragnar requested. Athena Christopoulos, captain of the Hermes, famous after her early defense of Tanner’s World against the Ragnar fleet, was currently captain of Scout 2 on this mission. Her job was to follow Scout 1 down in stealth mode, to Jump quietly to some location nearby, then move closer and provide cover for the crew of Scout 1. The other eight Scouts would take orbital positions where they could target Ragnar fleet assets, both ships and docks, should the Ragnar turn overtly hostile.

Before receiving a reply, multiple radar and low power laser sensors swept the region of space over Tantor’s northern pole, verifying a ship was there. That was to be expected. The launch of six Ravagers towards them from an orbital station was not.

Thad broadcast, his words translated into Fotrol. “Attention, the six Ravagers approaching my ship parked above your pole. My name is Thaddeus Greeves, of the Galactic Federation, and I’m here to arrange a meeting with Gimtal Thond. We met under a truce we offered him, on a place called Tanner’s World. That was where a fleet that I commanded, gave your fleet a welcome so warm that you soon departed for home.

“I would like this meeting to be peaceful, and therefore I insist that your ships maintain a quarter planetary radius from my ship. I want to conduct our meeting on the surface of Tantor, face to face.”

It was possible that Thond wasn’t available, and perhaps these ships were dispatched by someone that didn’t know what the Force Commander had discussed with Maggi.

The reply was a bit of a surprise. “This is Space Force Commander Grudfad. Gimtal Thond was recalled to Wendal by the Thandol High Command. He might no longer be Force Commander, even if he’s allowed to return. Krintar Hitok is Acting Force Commander in his absence, appointed by Sovereign Thond himself. Hitok was on the ground with him at the world you named. If you met Thond, you also would have met his Ground Commander there. What evidence do you have that should convince us you were there?”

“Is Head Basher unwilling to meet with a Kobani representative of the Galactic Federation?” It seemed unlikely that an alien that had not met him would know his nickname.

There was a lengthy pause. It lasted long enough for some sort of consultation, and the Scout’s AI reported there was an encrypted exchange of messages between one of the Ravagers and a large population center, located in a mountainous region of the planet below.

“Acting Force Commander Hitok has directed you to transfer to my ship, and I will conduct you to him, alone. He will grant you an audience in High City, our seat of government, whenever he can make time for you.”

That sounded a bit dismissive, and Greeves was having none of that attitude.

“You didn’t listen to what I told you. You will keep all six of your Ravagers at least a quarter planetary radius from my ship, for their own safety and continued existence. We forced your fleet to leave Tanner’s World, you did not force us to leave. Tell Hitok I will meet with him on the planet when I step out of my ship to face him, if he has the courage, or we will not meet at all. Have I made myself understood? Pass that message along to your Acting Force Commander. He struck me as being an intelligent and courageous Ragoon. You would do well to act like him.”

He’d obviously gotten under the skin of the Space Force Commander, reminding him of his hasty and humiliating retreat at Tanner’s.

He questioned Greeves’ boldness. “Our mass detectors have confirmed you didn’t arrive with a stealthed fleet to support your brash words. You are at our home world, with most of our fleet here. May I know the name of the Kobani to whom I should report your death, when I extract my vengeance from you should you fail to submit, or I will force you to flee for your life. I know you have superior stealth, and your ship is evidently so small it doesn’t register its mass, or even reveal its movements in Tachyon Space. Therefore, you can turn and run home if you act quickly enough.”

Not sure if his burst of laughter would register as such with the alien, Thad replied, “I have no intention of running, nor any reason to do so. Your thinking that I arrived without backup ships simply because you can’t detect them is a dangerous and mistaken assumption. I’m certain you must have learned from Thond and Hitok that we in the Federation have advanced technology that even the Thandol can’t match. Rather than my destroying the five ships with you, perhaps you had better check with the largest repair dock currently in an orbital position below the equator, which is not vulnerable to an attack from my own ship. I hope the docked Ravager with a laser burn on its hull is vacant. I’m ordering one of my stealthed ships, located on the far side of the planet, to bore a hole completely through the selected ship, and disable one of its fusion generators.”

Via Comtap, he gave an order to Jorl Breaker, whose Scout had reported that ship at a repair dock. Greeves had been using an open Comtap link to the group, to keep the entire squadron informed. “Jorl, try to bore a pin-point black hole all the way through the entire ship, and hit one of its fusion bottles. Only one small hole, please, unless you miss that generator the first time. I don’t really want a catastrophic explosion from venting plasma, or to crumple the ship into an overlarge event horizon.”

“Yes, Sir. I can send a hole through the ship I picked, and the AI will keep the mass small. However, it will be pure luck if I only hit one bottle. All three generators are near the center of their ships.”

“I’ll take that chance, Jorl. Or rather, they will. Do it quickly.”

Sarge was monitoring other Ragnar radio frequencies. “Thad, a transmission was just sent from what must be Grudfad’s ship to an equatorial communications satellite, spoken in clear Fotrol. It was probably intended for one or more of the docks that happen to be out of sight of us right now. He apparently took your threat seriously. He asked for reports of any sudden damage or signs of an attack.”

Two minutes passed, with the six Ravagers still closing with Scout 1, approaching the range he’d warned them to stay beyond. Thad had Yin-Lee feed coordinates to their AI, for use by the powered-up gravity projectors, to generate a fingernail size event horizon. He’d send the invincible, voracious little hole in the universe back and forth through five of the six Ravagers, sparing only the one they believed held Grudfad. At least spare it initially, unless it continued towards them, or launched an attack.

He was impatient. “Jorl. What happened? Did it work?”

“I think so, Sir. The lights on the ship flickered, and then returned steady. I may have punctured one bottle, with the power being routed to another generator. The hole in the hull is so small we saw no atmosphere leak, and an automatic sealing system would cut that off anyway. Should I try again, with a larger hole?”

The AI, linked via Comtap to Greeves, sent him an ominous warning. “Sir, all six approaching Ravagers have activated targeting scans of us, with three of the ships in weapons lock for laser and plasma targeting, or for anti-ship missile guidance.”

A Scout was too small and lightly armored to grant an enemy a deliberate first shot, let alone first shots from six heavily armed opponents.

Greeves was about to order a micro Jump before they came any closer than his specified distance, when the high pulse rate tracking and targeting systems suddenly switched off. Although, the general-purpose slow radar scans to keep them under surveillance did continue. All six ships turned sharply away from a direct course towards Scout 1.

“Damn, Thad,” came Athena’s voice in his mind by Comtap. “Cut that kinda close, didn’t ya? I closed the gap with them and had a fist sized hole ready to drill their asses if you waited until they fired on you. I think you were a bit too subtle with the shot you asked Jorl to take. That wasn’t a very big hole, and they may not have noticed right away.”

The confirmation came promptly, from a humbler sounding Grudfad. “Commander Greeves, Force Commander Hitok has agreed to meet you at High City, where you may land your small craft at coordinates I will provide.”

Greeves, smiled. He was now a “Commander” to the Ragnar. He wasn’t sure if that Ragnar rank was considered a step up or a step down from the rank of Admiral, which a PU naval officer once assumed he held. Just as Mirikami insisted on being called Captain, Greeves was most comfortable calling himself Colonel.

Grudfad had more to say. “A time for your landing is based on dividing our world’s rotation cycle into twenty segments, and we ask that you wait for two of those units of time to pass before landing. Are you capable of a Jump directly into the atmosphere, as Captain Mirikami did with his ship on the world named Tanner’s? if so, you are invited to do that while we observe, and verify you can perform that feat. We did not see it happen the other time.”

Greeves acknowledged and accepted the request. “Send the coordinates. Our computer AI can do the translation and conversion. I will verbally confirm the appearance of the landing area as it appears to us from space before we Jump.”

“I understand. I intend to land my ship in the same open plaza, where I’ll be able to observe the arrival. This is not a spaceport, but an open flat plaza near the center of the city. My ship will land first, and will provide visual confirmation for you at the designated landing area.”

And offer a nearby defense platform, thought Greeves.

He had a question. “Commander Grudfad, you waited to the last moment to break off your approach. I wasn’t sure you would. Things could have become very unpleasant. I hope our demonstration didn’t cause excessive harm or major damage. It was a minimal demonstration of another technology the Thandol do not have.”

“Commander, I was told a very small hole was beamed through a Ravager at a repair dock, which penetrated the containment housing of a fusion generator. There were no engineering personnel present in that sealed compartment. However, the beam, or whatever it was, passed through the entire ship, and passed through the repair dock as well. It required convincing to get Force Commander Hitok to accept that it was the act you predicted, and not a random space accident. He’s primarily a Ground Force officer, and the impossibility of an accident causing the straight-line perforations through armor and an incredibly tough fusion generator housing did not register with him. I had to place my reputation at risk to convince him to call off the attack he ordered.”

“I’m glad you did. And impressed that you believed what a human told you, after you fought against us so strongly at Tanner’s World. Had your attack continued, even if my ship and I did not survive, the part of the Ragnar fleet based here would have ceased to be a force in the Empire. We do not want that to happen, so long as the possibility remains that your fleet might eventually oppose the Thandol.”

“You must know that I do not have the power to control what my superiors will decide. I will obey my orders, and fight as I am directed.”

“I’m not here to convince you, Commander, I’m here to try to influence your superiors to at least delay their actions, if the Thandol order you to attack the Federation or the Planetary Union again. I had hoped Thond would be here, and that some demonstrations of our capability could convince him it was in your best interests, if not to join us against the Thandol, to try to stay out of the fight.”

Grudfad didn’t respond to the overture, and instead sent the landing coordinates. “I look forward to meeting you on the surface. I respect you as an opponent.”

“Thank you. You fought well against overwhelming odds, and stayed in the fight longer than was good for your force, to try to ensure the supplies reached your ground forces. I respected that, and I look forward to meeting you if we have the opportunity.”

“I hope we can meet outside the field of combat, although I believe war with your Federation, and with the Planetary Union is coming, even though we do not know the extent of the space you each control. If the Thandol know, they are not sharing that information with us.”

****

After a visual confirmation, that the conversion from Ragnar coordinates to those used by humans, matched the physical location of a plaza in High City, where a Ravager was parked in front of an isolated tall, dark colored structure, which other than for its isolation, resembled the relatively uniform high rise buildings of the rest of the city.

The other tall slender buildings stood closer together than would human structures, and they were nearly of uniform height and color, and sported many interconnected aerial walkways. The dark grey color of the outside of the buildings was drab when compared to those in a human city. The live tall trees, called Skytouch trees, were planted around the bases of all the structures, and gave the best clue to explain their style of construction. The similarity of the buildings to the natural trees was obvious. The Ragnar had recreated their forested origins in their cities, with the frequent crosswalks being equivalent to the sturdy path-vines that threaded between the trees in the rainforests.

They had noticed that Tantor’s continental topography was predominately wrinkled looking when seen from orbit, with nearly eighty percent of the land mountainous, with over half of that covered by dense rainforests. This was a rainy, semi tropical world. The seas covered sixty five percent of the surface, but none were the wide expanses seen on most planets, due to numerous long groups of ridges breaking them up into many long strips of water. Sarge had commented that the planet reminded him of a soaking prune.

Thad checked the image of the landing area one more time. “I don’t see anyone in the plaza, although there are armed Ragoons standing at the sides of Grudfad’s Ravager, which is sitting in front of that one isolated building. I wonder if they’re worried that something will go wrong with the landing. Such as our intersecting with atmosphere, and do more than create a soft pop.”

“Speaking of that,” Sarge offered, “I coordinated with Athena, and both of our AIs will simultaneously transfer our arrival pockets of air to almost the same point, directly above that plaza. The Ragnar will detect the small burst of gamma rays when the air pockets reenter Normal Space, but if they’re close together, I doubt they’ll be able to tell there was two of them, because they won’t have instruments focused on the precise location. Athena’s arrival will be in an unoccupied box canyon, well below the rim, where there won’t be anyone to hear the pop of her stealthed Scout. She’ll use Normal Space drive to move the few miles over to the plaza, and be in position to watch over us.”

Thad was still concerned. “If this turns out to be a trap, I wish Athena could use the gravity projectors this deep in a gravity well. With a Scout’s conventional weapons, even a first strike, with her two lasers and a plasma cannon from short range, can’t knock out an armored Ravager in even two or three hits. An anti-ship missile, set for instant arming would do the trick from that close, but if we’re standing outside on the plaza, and not in armor, we’re goners.”

“Well,” Cal reminded him, “if you hand them what amounts to an ultimatum, after one or more of you eight demonstrates what being a Kobani means, we might be in a fight here anyway.”

By you eight, he meant the eight team members of Scout 1 that would walk out unarmed. Cal Branson would be in armor and stealthed, with the other Kobani that would provide them close-up protection. All ten team members would have Comtap link with Scout 1’s AI, with Athena and her ship somewhere above them, and the eight other Scouts in orbit.

“Hey,” Thad called out. “A greeting party is forming I think. There’s a big Ragnar with charcoal gray fur coming around from behind that Ravager. Hitok had that same coloration. He may have come out of that official looking building behind the Ravager. I see a black furred ape coming out of the Ravager. That’s likely to be Grudfad. Come on folks, let’s swirl open the hatch and go meet them.” He mentally cued the AI to open both airlock hatches.

Their ears popped slightly, as the somewhat lower outside pressure equalized the standard internal Koban environment. The eight official representatives walked out onto the still extruding ramp as it lowered to the natural gray and pink granite stones of the plaza surface. The stark, pure white color set for the Scout’s hull material suggested the peaceful hope the mission had for this meeting. If it flipped suddenly to a mirrored surface, it would mean their hosts had fired on them, and the other Scouts would make the betrayal very costly when they avenged their deaths. Unseen, the two armored Kobani spread out ahead of them in the plaza.

The AI, asked earlier to report sensor scans, reported to their Comtaps. “Radar, infrared, and sonic scans are being conducted from the Ravager.”

“Sonic?” Sarge asked the AI for confirmation. The suit stealth systems would be undetectable by standard electromagnetic sensors. He’d never encountered sonic scanners when wearing PU armor, because the Krall didn’t use such sensors.

“Yes, Sir. Higher frequency than your wolfbat hearing’s upper range.”

Thad, hearing concern in Reynold’s Comtap query, reassured him. “Our armor does more than absorb and reradiate electromagnetic energy from one side to the other, to keep us invisible. The microscopic reactive surface of our armor has a mechanical mode that vibrates in a cancelation of incident sounds, to prevent echoes. It isn’t perfect, but a sound it can’t cancel, doesn’t reflect directly back towards the source. Our armor still should be hard to detect.”

“I didn’t know it did that. Those Torki thought of almost everything when they built our suits. Wonder what gave a sea going crab that idea?”

“If you lived your adolescent life at sea in an armored body, and ventured into waters where echo location and detection was common in predators, survival teaches you different lessons than us land lubbers learn.”

“Oh. I never thought about that.”

“It’s why you’re still a sergeant, dummy.” Thad enjoyed needling his friend, when the opportunity arose.

“Sarge is my nickname, wiseass, not my rank. I ain’t in the army now, and you ain’t really a colonel neither,” he said, sticking him right back.

The two Ragnar approached the humans in long strides, and Hitok, using his memory enhancer, recognized two of the humans from the stored images, and fished their names, and proper pronunciation from the attached files.

“Greetings Thad Greeves, and Sarge Reynolds.” He offered his large closed hand with knuckles extended.

Thad and Sarge bumped knuckles with him in the Ragnar custom, and looked expectantly up at the, thinner ape, with jet black body hair, featuring dark brown facial hair over his eyes, and below his chin. Both apes were at least a head taller and bulkier than any of the Kobani, yet Greeves and Reynolds were large, for humans. The Ragnar, on average, appeared to mass close to three hundred Earth pounds, with Hitok perhaps fifty pounds heavier than that average, as had been Thond, when they met him.

The black furred ape extended his knuckles for bumping. “I’m Commander Dotal Grudfad. Commander Hitok granted my request to meet you today. I’m pleased to see humans up close for the first time.” He drew back, and suddenly apologized.

“Forgive my possible error. I do not know if you are human or Kobani. I am unable to tell the difference.”

Thad emulated the huffs of Ragnar laughter he’d heard on Tanner’s World at the truce meeting. “Kobani are humans, although we are just one of the races of humans, a distinction that is growing less meaningful as our distinct races continue to blend as we expand and share many worlds. We Kobani originated from the other four main races of humanity, at least we look like them externally, but we have considerable internal differences, something that we believe it is important to explain to you before we leave here.

“However, before we start that complicated discussion, allow me to introduce my companions.” Names and knuckle bumps were exchanged again.

Hitok cut to the meat of the subject. “I am not a diplomat, neither is Thond, as we explained at our previous meeting, and I see you did not bring the small human named Maggi Fisher with you, one of your diplomats. You are military, I am military, what do you expect to accomplish by insisting on this meeting with me, or with Thond if he were here? We fight, we don’t negotiate treaties or make political decisions. Do human military representatives do that? I’d think that would conflict with your training.”

Thad’s first words may have confused them more. “I was told I’m to act as a Soldier-Diplomat. Although I’m not allowed to negotiate political agreements. I wouldn’t want to do that, even if allowed. My inclination is to beat an opponent down until they offer me an unconditional surrender, or die. The word soldier expresses my true calling, and my original role was in what you call your Ground Force. It is my Kobani capability that has expanded my skills to include leading Space Forces. To be honest, nearly any Kobani can be trained to serve in either capacity.

“I hope I can present you with valid reasons why it would be to your advantage, and in the best interest of your species, to avoid the coming Thandol conflict with the Federation, whom I represent, and with the Planetary Union, with whom we are allies. You should know that the PU also have an increasing number of Kobani among them, in their military, and they will be provided many of the same technological advances we have demonstrated to you.

“Combined, I’m confident the Federation and PU represent the greatest threat the Thandol have ever faced. We believe their egos, and their evolutionary nature leave them incapable of peaceful coexistence with us unless they are defeated. We also believe that you, the Ragnar, have not informed the Emperor, or his High Command, that there are two independent political entities they must fight, each with significant military forces that will oppose them. We combined to defeat the Krall barbarians in only twenty-two orbits, while the Empire hid from them for many thousands of orbits.

“We feel certain your hope is that we will fight and weaken the Thandol enough that you might safely revolt against them, or if we are defeated, you would gain when the Thandol granted you a major role in controlling the new stars annexed. We know you hate the Thandol, but can’t defeat them while they are as strong as they are now. Does that describe your positon?”

The huffing from Hitok, and a wrist flip, showed the ape was amused. “You mostly understand our position, but I don’t see evidence of your claim that you are a serious threat to the Thandol navy. All three of the security sectors, if our forces were combined, would have little hope of defeating them.”

Thad nodded, not knowing if the gesture had meaning to him. “You still have most of your fleet intact, and you recovered part of your ground forces on Tanner’s World. That was only allowed because we wanted you left stronger. We didn’t even need to follow your ships to find Tantor, Menlat, or Gilgan. We already had the coordinates of this world and your two colonies.” He noticed that both Hitok and Grudfad’s eyes widened minutely, revealing their surprise.

He explained how they learned this. “We hold two low ranking Ragnar as prisoners, whom we will return to you before we depart. They were aboard a Smasher that carried the Emperor’s Observer, when we first fought you in space at our colony world of Zanzibar 2.

“I have some of our newer design ships above this planet now, which you did not detect arriving, and you still can’t locate them, not even using mass detectors. One of those ships put that tiny hole through a docked Ravager, venting the plasma from a fusion bottle. That single weapon could have done the same thing to every docked ship at that repair station. And not just with small holes. It could easily punch multiple head sized cavities through each of them.” He noted the glance Hitok gave Grudfad. The Space Force Commander had been right that it was no accident.

“If that isn’t evidence you will accept of our technological capability, I can direct your attention to a Thandol base in Security Sector two, which we called Rogue 2, translated from similar meaning Thandol words. It is an isolated, cast off and frozen rocky world, where they were gathering a sizable fleet to attack Tanner’s World, but you beat them to that target.

“Thond didn’t tell the High Command what happened to you at Tanner’s, possibly because he wanted them to stick their heads into the same ripper’s jaws you found. It doesn’t matter, and he may be telling them now, since you told us he was called to Wendal. That Thandol fleet was severely damaged by only five of our ships, each exactly like the one behind me. That is what provoked the Emperor to order the three security forces to attack us simultaneously. That, and our crashing some orbiting Crusher wreckage onto Wendal. Yes, we have been there, we did that undetected, and we also have contacts inside the imperial Court. You aren’t the only species who hates them.”

Greeves looked at Grudfad. “I assume Commander Thond or Commander Hitok told you about rippers, the large blue predators from our home planet? Their telepathic ability is how we interrogated your two prisoners without causing them harm, or even allowing them to know that we learned anything from them. They are very loyal to their home and species, and Maggi, our small female diplomat you met on Tanner’s,” he looked at Hitok, “only hurt them when they thought they could tear her apart, because she was alone with them, and she was unarmed.

“The story you received from the ripper named Kobalt, that she could defeat you bare handed is well founded. She is small, and she is a Kobani human. She has also interrogated two Thandol officers alone, and she was unarmed. I suspect their trunks still hurt. She doesn’t like the Thandol, but she does like you Ragnar. Sometimes, I do too.”

Hitok did a brief leg squat, which Greeves didn’t understand was a polite acknowledgement. “We know the High Command has secret major bases in all three security sectors. We’ve long searched for one here in our sector, but our scouting missions must travel slowly, in level one to avoid detection, and the volume of stars is huge. Naturally, when the High Command ordered attacks on your worlds, they omitted the details of what had enraged the Emperor.”

Thad offered a gift. “I have the coordinates of all three secret bases, if you would like to have them. The one in Sector two was on a frozen planet that has no star, and we don’t think the others are around stars either. Until we stumbled onto the one they called number two, in Sector 2, we didn’t suspect their existence. With that one as a clue, our rippers picked the locations of the other two bases from the mind of a Crusher Captain that we captured. He and his junior officer are not going home soon, but the two Ragnar we hold will.”

Hitok asked, “You are not worried our Ragoons will tell us too much about you?”

“No. First off, we’ve learned you call them Ragnools. You recall that I said they were aboard a Smasher? What they can confirm for you is less than what I came to tell you anyway. They never knew where we held them prisoner. If they knew anything that worried us, the ripper telepathic contacts would have revealed it.”

Maggi had made certain to use rippers extensively for the last two weeks, as the apes were asked hundreds of questions. This concealed Kobani Mind Tap ability, and ensured the likable if not very brilliant two apes, could return home. However, it had been decided that ripper frilling would not be held secret, but Mind Tap would be. It was a powerful capability, used to intimidate opponents.

“As a final indication of how deep we can reach into the Thandol Imperial Court, I suggest you follow the health status of Emperor Farlol in the coming cycles. He may make fewer public appearances, and avoid travel. We decided not to kill him, since another Emperor would seamlessly succeed him, but we hoped that making him sick would undermine his support, and hamper his decision making. He’s also contagious, and will infect other Thandol nobles with his intestinal parasites.”

Now both Hitok and Grudfad huffed and pant hooted at this revelation. Thad hoped Maggi and Tet’s prediction panned out, and their tampering with Farlol’s intestinal fortitude would make itself known to the public. That would help support the case he was making today, that the Federation was preparing to make the Empire pay for its aggression.

Greeves cut their amusement short with a startling revelation. “I don’t know how you will handle your assignment to attack a Federation colony. If you thought Tanner’s World was a hard nut to crack, that will seem like a calm walk in this lovely plaza.” He smiled coldly, showing his white, even teeth.

“If you go after a Federation world, we won’t send just our old clanships to its defense. You won’t be bringing a landing force for conducting a space bombardment, so we don’t need to divert resources for that contingency. I might not be placed in charge of that defense, because there are other attacks being organized by the Finth and Thack Delos. Regardless of who of us is placed in command of the fleet we send there, it’s possible none of the attacking fleet will return home this time, or if it disengages early, it will be followed to wherever it retreats, and attacked there. I’m not privy to what the Planetary Union will do for their worlds, but they will not yield easily. As I said, they are gaining additional Kobani every day for their large military.”

Avoiding the shocking knowledge that the enemy knew which world the Ragnar were ordered to attack, Hitok fished for different information. This enemy seemed enormously revealing, or tremendously confident that it didn’t matter, so he sought to learn what was meant by the repeated reference to how vital Kobani humans were to their military.

Guns were a great equalizer. How did being a Kobani, even if stronger than their opponent, help them in that sort of fight? The human’s reckless mode of fighting in space was a technique now being taught to their own captains, navigators, and weapons divisions, and there would be no more outgunned destroyers wasted on standoff defense of their fleet, against an enemy that refused to standoff. The strength of a Kobani surely helped them in situations that demanded hard accelerations, but the Ragnools now testing the new space warfare tactics were proving that the Ragnar were no wimps at employing new risky methods. At least not when pitted in contests against squadrons using their former tactics.

“You say this so often, that you Kobani are different from other humans of your species, yet you look the same. Strength alone does not win a fight, nor do superior weapons always prevail.

“If we were permitted to build a fleet that matched the Thandol’s in size, their more advance weapons and giant ships would fall to us. On average, I think most male Thandol are stronger than most Ragnar males, and certainly stronger than our female Ragoons, and of many Ragnools, who are generally smaller in stature. Yet we would win the war. How could a small human like Maggi Fisher, or her slightly larger mate, Tetsuo Mirikami, prevail in a gun or knife fight with a Thandol, or say, with a Ragnar like myself, armed the same way?”

Thad smiled. “I know Kobalt shared images with you of Tet fighting a much larger Krall, unarmed, and he killed that warrior with his bare hands. That didn’t seem convincing?”

“Weapons, and skill with them, turn those than can use them properly into superior fighters. I have only seen humans use machines that amplify their abilities. Technology can be bought or duplicated. Warrior skills must be learned and earned. My people respect the Finth and Thack Delos far more than they do the Thandol, because those species are good fighters. We don’t like one another personally, for many reasons, but we respect their ability in combat. The Thandol merely had the advantage of hundreds of years of technological development on us before we encountered them. They rule their empire by luck of the advantage of time, and blocking us from catching up with them.

“Even now, the flat-footers can’t produce a ground force that could take and hold a small town, not without their navy to beat the opponent into submission first.”

He ruffled his shaggy shoulder hair, a gesture the humans failed to initially grasp was a skeptical shrug.

“I see your new ship here, and we verified it appeared there directly from above our Northern pole. We saw a sample of a weapons technology, which seems superior to what the Thandol have. But this is machinery again. You want us to respect your fighting ability, to risk the displeasure and revenge of the Thandol to actively support you, or to merely standby and do nothing. However, we have not seen what true warrior skills humans have learned and earned, particularly by you Kobani.”

Sarge, who had spent some time on the ground opposing the Ragnar armored units on Tanner’s, asked, “What happened to you on Tanner’s World, before we Kobani arrived, wasn’t that a destructive enough fight for you?”

“We were caught by surprise, by their innovative ways of using what was available as unexpected weapons. But I had learned, before reaching that last city, not to charge ahead with excessive overconfidence. I admit, I learned another lesson there, but in a long, drawn out war, the ability of our individual fighters would wear down an enemy that only relied on trickery and withdrawal to avoid coming into direct contact with us. At some point, an enemy must stand and fight us. Then we would know their true measure as soldiers and warriors.”

Thad silently conducted a rapid series of Comtap exchanges, most of them with the eight-people standing openly with him. It required only seconds for superconducting minds to reach a conclusion.

“Commander, you have walked all around what you want to say to us, and despite your claim that you are not a diplomat, you have been very good at building your case carefully, trying to avoid being reckless. That must be difficult for a soldier like you.”

“What is it that you believe I want to say to you?”

Hitok was being uncharacteristically circumspect here, because he wasn’t going to anger Civil Sovereign Dendor, who had cautioned him that as Acting Force Commander, he did not have the authority that Military Sovereign Thond still held. The Civil Sovereign didn’t want the Ragnar to end up being caught between the conflicting interests of two powerful military forces, causing either, or possibly both the Galactic Federation and the Thandol Empire, to declare war on their three worlds.

“You, and by that, I mean the Ragnar, not just you personally, need to know if we Kobani are what we claim to be. If our fighting capability can earn us the respect of your people. I think you want a genuine test, or demonstration, of our individual fighting skills and capability, measured against combat experienced Ragoons.”

Hitok confirmed Greeves supposition. “Yes. A ripper’s viewpoint of one instance of unarmed combat, conducted by one Kobani against a single Krall foe, neither of which our Ragoons have ever fought, is not adequate to convince our people. The way it was presented to us was by a telepathic mental image, from a predator that appears to be merely an animal to our people here. It is hard to prove what we experienced represented a real event.”

Thad understood. “I believe you wish to propose an arranged fight with us, for your people to witness. A fight with no restrictions on ending the lives of the participants, I assume. You mentioned gun or knife fight examples earlier. You are speaking of lightly armed combat with simple weapons. Is that correct?”

Hitok returned Greeves’ frank, and unblinking gaze. “Yes, I am. If the participant’s lives are not at risk, there is no assurance the motivation is present to win at any cost to those engaged. If higher technology weapons are employed, the aspect of accidental good fortune plays too great a role in which side wins.”

“I accept for the eight Kobani here, if appropriate conditions can be set. All of us are veterans of fighting the Krall, having fought them both in space, and on the ground. We each have engaged in life or death fights against Krall warriors, using space craft and complex weapons, and with various projectile and energy beam hand weapons in ground warfare.

“In many cases, we Kobani have fought their warriors with only knives, or at times we faced them unarmed and out of our armor, and the enemy used their favorite bladed weapons. We deliberately did this as an object lesson, to humiliate them before we killed them.” He was perfectly aware that this would sound like braggadocio.

“Commander, we first need to discuss when, then where in space or on the ground we will meet your representatives, and what weapons we will use. After that matter is resolved, I hope we can reach an agreement about your support in opposing the Thandol, through mutual respect.”

Hitok was surprised at the quick acceptance, and he’d not thought about where, because he’d not anticipated this turn of events. Although, when would be as soon as the place was decided. There would be a few moments to consider weapons, because he had to consult with the Civil Sovereign to select where, and of course verify he had his approval and that of the Legal Sovereign.

“I’m fundamentally Ground Force,” Hitok explained, “and it is with those forces we take and hold territory, pitting ourselves physically and directly against other species that are our opponents.” Providing a clue as to how the matchup would play out.

“This course of action must involve approval from the other two branches of our government, despite my current position as Acting Force Commander for the Thandol. This is essentially a Ragnar Military decision, but in the absence of Commander Thond, our Military Sovereign, I require concurrence from the other two Sovereigns for an action that could result in your Federation declaring war on us, when we kill you.”

Most of the Kobani merely nodded or shrugged at this reasonable condition from Hitok, although Sarge smiled at the confidence the Ragnar expressed in the outcome.

Thad asked, “How long will that take you?”

“I’m in contact with Sovereign Dendor,” he tapped his head, “I’m using my memory enhancer, which has a communications capability. He is observing and listening to our meeting from inside the Tri-Branch Government Center, the building behind the Ravager. He is there with Legal Sovereign Frodum Tolmek, who is part of the discussion.”

While they waited, Mel had a question. “Thad, do we ask them to include a female, since we have Macy on our team?”

Gundarfem added a touch of biting humor to the personal life or death aspect the mission had acquired. “Why? Do you want the advantage of a smaller female to fight you Mel? I want to face the largest male bastard they have. Perhaps Hitok. He’s the biggest one I’ve seen so far, and his nickname is Head Basher.”

Seemingly caught in the embarrassing and inappropriate archaic practice of trying to protect the only Kobani woman of the eight from danger, Mel defended his question.

“Bullshit! That wasn’t my point at all Macy. You damn well should know me better than that. They might want to permit one of their own females to participate, considering they’re forced to conform to the damn Thandol’s gender bias when dealing with them.

“This might be an opportunity to demonstrate to the Ragnar we don’t have the same bias, by pointing out that we have a female in our group, and that we have no objection if they put one or more on their team. If they’re like most aliens that first meet us, they probably can’t tell our genders apart. Frankly, I can’t tell if any of those hairy apes over by the Ravager are male or female, can you?”

“Would seeing the tip of a skinny pink pecker below the crotch of that brown one on the right be a clue?” She grinned when he looked quickly towards the indicated brown and tan ape. Who was so hairy, it was impossible to see any gender signs.

“I can’t see one either,” she admitted with a laugh. “Sorry Mel, I didn’t mean to insult you. I know you weren’t putting me down. I’m just nervous, and got a little touchy. These are big suckers, but they’re fifty to a hundred Earth pounds lighter than most Krall, male or female. We’ve all faced those large, tough as nails frigging lizards, and we’re still here to talk about it. These apes do seem more thoughtful in their actions than those leap and scream, barbarians. We need to be more careful because of that.”

Hitok, after a few minutes of apparent silence, had completed his conference with the two Sovereigns, and had some answers.

“There is an infantry training center on an island near here, where a wide river splits to flow around it. The river grows from tributaries that feed into it from the other side of the central ridge just west of High City, where we now stand. It is a relatively short flight away, and as a training site where we have motion capture cameras placed strategically around the entire island. It is used for evaluating the performance of young candidates who undergo qualification testing there, for membership in our elite special combat units. There is a mixture of developed trails, trees, interconnected path-vines, and natural underbrush.

“This is the dry season, which means it rains only once or twice a day, for roughly a tenth of a cycle. The island has been populated with various dangerous lifeforms, both large and small, from this planet. As you can see, half of our world is rainforest jungle, and has medium height mountain ridges along most landmasses. The animals you will encounter range from much larger than your rippers, down to hand sized stinging insects, which either live below the trees on the ground, or move around up in the trees. The test will last no more than a cycle, because the island isn’t so large that two groups of eight antagonists can avoid each other that long. Avoidance isn’t an impressive accomplishment to us, in this case. We wish to see armed contact between you.”

“Weapons?” Thad asked.

“That required an override from me. The Sovereigns wanted projectile pistols issued, to you, and to our volunteers of course. With so few opponents, a single weapon in one lucky or skilled participant’s hand could quickly unbalance the contest through blind good fortune. The captured weapon from the first fatality adds to the other side’s advantage. I strongly advised against use of any weapon with a standoff range, like a gun. Knives, improvised clubs, spears, or whatever you can devise from the wilderness around you, will be permitted.”

“I assume your team of eight are experienced veterans?”

“Yes, much like you described yourselves to be, and we will also have one female.”

Thad looked at Macy and Mel, who shared a smirk. “We were discussing among ourselves if we should tell you one of our team was a female. How did you know?”

“Scent. We are jungle evolved, and spend time in them even now, so we have good noses. She,” he pointed at Macy, “smells different than you human males, as did Maggi Fisher, and one you called Carol, with a second name I cannot remember.” Carol Slobovic had been at the truce meeting on Tanner’s.

Thad, thinking of his ripper sense of smell, realized something. “There were two female Ragnar at our truce meeting on Tanner’s World, wasn’t there? We Kobani also have an excellent sense of smell, and I detected that two of your officers had mildly different odors. However, they were not introduced to me, and it might have been impolite to ask why they smelled different, so I didn’t make the connection.”

“Humans too are jungle evolved?” Hitok was fishing for information.

“Not for a million orbits, and few live in such an environment now. Normal humans do not have our Kobani senses.”

There was that tantalizing hint again, of the Kobani differences from standard humans. He was burning to ask how they had become different, and about the hints that Kobani humans in the Planetary Union were on the increase. Did they breed that rapidly? That had been a Krall advantage, but few mammal-like aliens in Ragnar experience laid eggs. Most experienced live births, of one to four offspring, which required a lengthy growth period to reach adult status. That didn’t sound like how the Kobani were increasing their numbers so quickly. It left him more than curious.

“Our selected Ragoons will arrive shortly, from two other remote training locations that require suborbital shuttles to bring them to High City.”

“You didn’t have volunteers right here?” Macy pointed towards the dozen or so Ragoons near the Ravager.

“It wasn’t for lack of volunteers,” Hitok huffed. “I was forbidden from participating because I carelessly allowed myself to be designated Acting FC, in Thond’s absence. We had too many volunteers. I was asked to select them, from nearly every Ragoon on the planet, after the general request was broadcast to their memory enhancers a short time ago.”

Sarge wasn’t above a bit of needling himself. “Asked for trainees, did you? To have someone freshly taught how to fight? I’d think you’d want veterans.”

“I did chose veterans,” came the rebuttal. “These are some of our finest instructors in personal combat techniques. I know most of them personally. With the limitations placed on weapons for this contest, you Kobani get to find out how poorly you have positioned yourselves. You eight are random selections, perhaps with combat experience, but you seldom have fought with so little technology to help you.” He huffed again, in wry amusement.

“I have enjoyed meeting you a second and final time, Thad Greeves, and you as well Sarge Reynolds. I regret this will be my only meeting with you other six. I assume you have all been in communications with your comrades in orbit? Stealthed as they are, how will we deliver your remains? We will broadcast the highlights of your last moments from the nearest cameras, if any are positioned record the events.”

Mel was annoyed by Hitok’s attitude. “You really have no idea who you are sending your very best against. If I were a young, inexperienced full Kobani, sent alone to fight any four of your Ragoons, you would still need four oversized body bags to take them home. Unless you decide to leave them to rot where they fall.”

Macy snorted her own amusement, no longer feeling nervous. “Do we pair-off with our designated dead meat, or is it simply team against team? If one of us kills one of them, do we join the others in the match, or will we be done? I warn you, if we help the others, it will be a very short day for your team.” Both Hitok’s and Grudfad’s fur suddenly bristled.

Hitok’s words held barely suppressed rage when he responded. “Any method they use to kill you is fair. One on one, or all eight of them against the last one of you, as you run for your life. I deeply regret I’m not allowed to participate. I would personally carry your bashed and removed head back here with me, for placing on a pike in this plaza, to send its image to every Ragnar on our three planets.”

His fur shivered as he said, “I no longer have any reservations for making this a match to the death, with no mercy granted. I hope to see all eight of my team present to rip the last screaming human survivor apart, where we all can see.”

“You need to be very careful what you wish for,” Sarge warned him.

“Why, will your hidden ships attack anyway, when you all die? We couldn’t honor an agreement with a treacherous ally anyway.”

Greeves was provoked now. “We offered, and then honored a truce, to let you drag your beaten asses off Tanners World, and it is you who did not follow the agreement we had in place when we let you live. You didn’t tell the Thandol what happened there, to perhaps slow them in their foolish rush to a war we do not want.

“You know what, Commander? I’ll accept whatever blade I’m given today, but I don’t expect to need it in a fight. I won’t need more than what you see in front of you right now. My bare hands.”

Further brags and threats ended when the faint whine of thrusters grew much louder, as two Ragnar shuttle craft approached the Plaza. Both ships settled vertically, landing close to the Ravager. Five Ragnar exited one of them, and three came from the other. They hustled towards Hitok and Grudfad.

Greeves noted that when running, the longer legs of the Ragnar, compared to Tri-Vids he’d seen of Earth apes, displayed none of the rocking bow legged gait of those primates, and there was no sign of any tendency to knuckle-walk to help them lope along, although their long arms wouldn’t make that impossible. They weren’t as well adapted for running as were normal humans, and they had none of the smooth flowing motion of a Kobani at any speed.

Hitok turned away and moved towards them, covering a dozen paces to meet them and apparently have more privacy when he spoke to them. After knuckle bumps, an animated conversation ensued with the eight new arrivals. Two of them were quite large, one even bigger than Hitok, who previously was the largest Ragnar the humans had seen. Most were a bit smaller than the two largest members, but two of the apes were less husky, and leaner than average for a Ragoon, built more like Grudfad, who seemed to be typical of the body types of most Ragnools that joined the space force.

The shortest one of the two smaller apes had a dark beige shade of fur, with brown accents around the face, hands, upper chest, and crotch. The breeze happened to be from the direction of the Ravager. Their ripper sense of smell had all the Kobani lifting their noses, identifying the scents of their future opponents.

“I think the slender tan one with brown markings is a female,” suggested Mel. “Until they spread out I can’t be sure, but there’s a greater scent difference from one of them than from the others.”

Macy agreed. “It’s certainly a greater difference than there is between a man and a woman. They all have more distinctive odors than do humans. I don’t think they wash that long fur as often as we do our skin.” She grinned mischievously. “Except for Sarge, who always smells like an unwashed rhinolo butt.”

Reynolds rolled with the friendly jab. “I’ll have you know I’m wearing my best rhinolo-butt cologne. It helps me get close to the herd when I hunt them on foot.”

She had a comeback ready. “Does it also help you run faster when a horny bull chases your ass? You bought the wrong bottle, slick. You smell like a cow’s butt.”

The humans enjoyed the joking around, and waited to see how long it would take the Ragnar to get the show started. The newcomers were looking past Hitok, sizing up their opponents, a grimace on each of their faces apparently passed for a Ragnar grin. They seemed eager to get started, and their actions soon verified that impression.

Abruptly, Hitok turned away from his volunteers and strode towards the Kobani, as the Ragoons proceeded briskly to one of the shuttles. There wasn’t going to be an introduction. Oh well. It wasn’t like they were planning on being friends.

Hitok announced, “A pilot is in the other shuttle, waiting to take you to the island. You will be let out at a central assembly field, where the staff and Ragoons in training have just been lifted out on a Pounder, leaving the training camp vacant. Our volunteers will be dropped off at the ends of the island, two groups of four. They will then move towards that assembly field, seeking to locate, and kill you. You do as you chose. Seek them, wait for them, or hide. The island is heavily forested, except around the camp, and it’s ridged and longer than it is wide. It should take either team about a twentieth of a cycle for them to reach the assembly area. They are able to communicate with one another with their memory enhancers, of course, as you can with your devices.”

Macy asked, “Where are our weapons, and theirs?”

“In each shuttle, there are duplicate selections of various knives, spears, and short swords. Our hands are not very dissimilar to yours, so I think they will be acceptable to you. If you have similar cutting or stabbing weapons of your own, I must see them first, but you can take those with you. You can carry as many of your own as you wish, if I find them acceptable.”

Thad shrugged. “We didn’t bring combat knives, unless one of us has something stashed in their personal kits?” He looked around at the others.

“I have a folding pocket knife,” Sarge said, shaking his head, “but I don’t think it’ll be useful.”

None had brought a useful sized knife for fighting, but all had brought along a plasma rifle, and their suits themselves had multiple energy weapons incorporated.

“Why do we need to travel on one of your shuttles?” Thad asked. “We can follow them.”

“Your craft all have Artificial Intelligence systems installed, and they can fly and operate your weapons. Your ship will remain here. Is there anyone still inside?”

“Nope. All of us walked out onto the plaza.” That was true, although two of them were invisible. And now they’d be staying here, since it was too risky to attempt to slip anyone stealthed onto the shuttle. Besides, they had nine other Scouts with them, and Athena was somewhere close by, and could follow them.

As they walked towards the indicated shuttle, Thad used his Comtap, in tachyon mode to avoid radio emissions, following the protocol they’d established at the outset, to speak to his entire group.

“I mean this! None of you other Scouts are to interfere with what happens on that island, so long as they don’t violate the rules they have set for the engagement. In the unlikely case that we all get our heads handed to us, Athena assumes overall command. They know we didn’t come here alone. She can then discuss what comes next, and either send a pilot to pretend to retrieve our scout, or say that it flew out on its own, after the other two of our team slips aboard. Wish us luck.”

****

Ragnar shuttle craft, unlike those the Krall built, had side view ports, so the flight to the island gave them opportunity to see the countryside and the approach. Hitok rode with them, and provided comments, although that was limited to basic information, and pointing out land marks.

They passed over the central ridge of the large landmass where High City was built, and seemed then to follow tributary streams, which repeatedly merged with other streams, growing larger. They flew below dense cloud cover, and there was heavy rain for half of the flight. They broke out from under the cloud layer, to see the moderate river they were now following would join with a far larger body of water, stretching as far as they could see left and right, with a hazy shoreline many miles to the other side. It looked more like a large lake than a river, but as the shuttle flew out near the center, and turned right, they could see it flowed between two widely separated high ridged land masses, and they passed over many small ridged islands, with dense under growth on them, and unusual thick vines draped between trees. Soon, out of the clearing mist of the morning’s rain, a much larger land mass appeared, with the great river dividing to each side.

“There is your destination. Danger Island, where camp Junthar is located. The camp is named after a long-ago Force Commander, and Military Sovereign. You can see why it will take a twentieth of a cycle for our volunteers to travel along the trails, and through the trees to reach the center of the camp’s administrative buildings. The assembly area there is where we will land you. From there you can move in any direction you wish.” He did a wrist flip of his right hand.

“I do not think you humans will be very comfortable climbing trees, or walking along shaky vine trails far above the ground. That is why we are landing our Ragoons at the ends of the island, to give you time to choose where you will meet them, and how. The trails on the ground provide you movement there, but that is also where the largest native animals we placed on the island will be found, and some are predators. None are like your rippers, but they will make an easy meal of you, or a careless Ragnar. Even the larger prey animals that use those trails can trample or gore the unwary. You will share the same risk as do my Ragoons.”

“That may be true,” Sarge granted, “but they know what to expect, and how it will behave. We don’t. However, compared to living on Koban, I doubt they’re as deadly, as strong, or as fast as animals there. Which, I might add, includes us Kobani. I think we’ll outmatch or handle anything we find down there.”

There was that irritating attitude again. Hitok couldn’t wait to watch the images as they were fed from the dozens of cameras placed in around the area closest to the camp. Others were dotted around the island, placed in trees and at trail junctions, assuming these humans dared penetrate the jungle. It was time for this hugely overconfident, medium sized species, to learn their real place in the galaxy. At least several notches below the Ragnar, who evolved to reign supreme in these jungles.

Thad’s enhanced vision caught the infrared thruster flare of the other shuttle, as it lifted from the near end of the large island, after apparently depositing some of their foe. They passed over that bare bluff top, but he couldn’t see the Ragoons, who presumably had already moved into the brush close to the rocky clearing.

Their shuttle flew at least another eight miles, over a high canopy of the ubiquitous Skytouch trees with long slender green leaves and dark gray bark. There were thick ropy vines that grew between the trees, which formed the basis for the sky walks the Ragnar loved between skyscrapers in their cities. Somehow, the path-vines could bridge the gaps between trees. There were occasional relatively clear areas where there were no tall trees, and signs of trails appeared in the heavier ground cover. He caught a glimpse of black backs, glossy with the recent rain, of some big browsing animals in two separate clearings. They had heavy dark gray curling horns that curved forward near the tips. They were roughly two thirds the size of a rhinolo cow.

The island’s terrain displayed, on a smaller scale, the same rocky spine down it’s center length, but it wasn’t as sharp or high in proportion to those of the big landmasses on either side of this Amazonian-like river. This sort of uplift was apparently due to a geological trait in the crustal material of this world, as if the planet had shrunk in radius and wrinkled its crust in linear parallel patterns.

There appeared to be less soil for nourishing the massive Skytouch trees as they flew towards the higher central region, and occasional crags of pink and gray granite were visible. These were covered in creeping vines and choking vegetation, growing between groves of a prevalent smaller variety of tree with red bark and widespread limbs, and reddish tan leaves. The horizontal path-vines were strung between even these lower, fifty-foot tall “midgets,” within their isolated groves.

The shuttle was flying lower now, and it startled hundreds of relatively normal looking colorful flocks of birds. Previously over the tall trees, there had been only occasional hints of them through the top of the canopy roof, with a few wide winged predatory seeming creatures gliding above them. Those looked more like leathery winged mammals, with a long and pointed snout, than they did birds, and they flapped their three to four meter wingspans in a panic when the far larger shuttle approached, diving below the forest canopy to avoid this apparent “predator.”

Signs of crude civilized meddling appeared at the crest of the island, where the rock of the ridge had been leveled, and the hunks of debris used to build a crude walled compound several thousand meters in diameter, with walls twenty feet high, and thicker at the base. There was no smooth parapet along the top, or guard towers, so it didn’t appear to ever have been a military fortification with room for defenders on the top. It was more like a barrier for keeping something out that wasn’t smart enough to break down a rubble wall, or able to climb over. There were four large double gates embedded in the wall’s circumference, made of what appeared to be heavy red wooden timbers. It was a primitive looking structure. As they passed over, it was apparent that some dark sort of cement-like substance held the rubble together in those ancient looking walls.

Inside the compound, however, were newer looking one and two story light colored structures, some of which could be ranks of barracks, and there was what looked like an obstacle course, and a wide clearing in front of what could be the main administrative building. The packed dirt of the clearing bore a long and recent impression, from something Thad and Sarge both recognized. Hitok had said the training camp had been evacuated a short time ago, using a Pounder. The indentations pressed into the soil matched those left behind on Tanner’s World, after the Ragnar troop ships lifted.

As the shuttle settled onto the clearing, Thad caught a glimpse, well above them, of the infrared thruster glare of the other shuttle, headed for the far south end of the island. That was a useful observation, since the second group of Ragoons might need a longer time to reach this compound than would the first ones dropped off at the north end.

“Interesting place,” Thad commented, as they disembarked. “That wall looks very old, but the buildings look contemporary, made of prefabricated manufactured material.”

Hitok agreed. “The original wall material predates space flight for us. It had fallen, but was rebuilt a thousand years ago, by Fintor Junthar, the second Ragnar Force Commander ever appointed by the Thandol. He annexed the Trembold Cluster stars into the Empire.

“In his youth, he explored this island, an ancient training center for heroes mentioned in our legends. He established this camp to train preadult Ragnar, teaching them the same combat and survival skills, as used by those early heroes.

“I trained here when I was young, and six of those I picked to fight you were trained here, many orbits after I did, of course. This is a link to the heroes of our past, and represents the heart of Ragnar fighting spirit.”

“Great!” Sarge stated, using a sarcastic tone he knew wouldn’t translate. “They know this island intimately, all of its trails, and the type animals found here. Nothing’s better than having an even playing field.”

“Exactly!” Hitok agreed, missing his point completely.

Thad shook his head, with a faint smile, but asked, “I suppose you’ll leave now, to watch events play out?”

“Yes. And much of the planet will watch. This should inspire tens of thousands to volunteer to become Ragoons and Ragnools. We will sweep down on Federation and Planetary Union worlds and take them for the Empire. In the process, I will cement our place in the future history of our species.”

“No, you won’t.” Thad countered. “You will be on the wrong side of that history, Force Commander. You are asking your people to follow the race that defeated your heroes when they faced the Thandol. You will only have martyrs today, to your misdirected hope for an honorable future. After today ends, I hope you will recover your proper sense of direction. You’ll need that after this waste of life.”

“Pahh! I wish I could lead the team, and watch you die with those words crammed into your mouth.” He turned angrily, to reenter the shuttle.

“Force Commander, I’m confident you will fervently wish that was true by tonight. I hope none on your team are close friends of yours.” Thad led the other Kobani away from the shuttle, as the hatch swung closed.

It lifted in a rush, thrusters screaming, and they swiveled quickly to produce forward momentum, as the main rear thruster blasted into life, and the shuttle shot off into the clearing and faintly orange tinted sky. The small, distinctly orange-red sun was close to the planet, and the humidity was increasing as the morning rain rejoined the water cycle, and evaporated.

The cooler granite rubble of the outer walls dripped with condensation. The Kobani, their heat adaptation having already activated, had warm moist skin, but they felt comfortable in what was a cooler morning than they would experience in Koban’s summer. Their body temperature, with its high metabolism, was always higher than that of other non-Koban creatures their size.

Sarge, in keeping with his body’s demands, pulled one of the dozen high-energy protein bars out of his backpack, and munched contentedly as he walked around the compound. He’d placed a broad bladed hand ax in the same pack, and had two forearm length hunting knives, one in a sheath on his belt, on the left side, and the other knife was in a leather-like sheath and tied to the outside of his right-side boot, which was made of tough rhinolo hide. His Smart Fabric pants was impenetrable to nearly any sharp metal blade. His shirt was made of a synthetic material, but no protection from a blade.

All eight of them were looking over the buildings, which had closed and locked doors, confirmed by testing the “L” shaped door handles, and their windows were the kind that didn’t open. They were certain they could break inside if they wanted, but saw little need. At two diagonal corners of nearly every building they spotted small camera installations, placed inside self-cleaning domes. They knew they were being watched when the devices pivoted inside the domes to follow them.

In the eighty-eight percent of standard gravity, Mel, with a starting run, leaped easily to the roof lip of a two-story structure, and walked up to the sloped peak for an overview of the compound. He was high enough to see over the outer compound wall. “Hey! There’s a big animal outside,” he pointed a direction. “It reminds me of a young brown K-Rex, but it has hair. It’s slightly shorter than the twenty-foot wall, so I guess we know why that was built.”

One continent on Koban hosted dinosaur analogues, and one of those monsters was a bipedal huge carnivore that looked much like T-Rex fossils on Earth. What Mel saw here was smaller, but it’s jaws looked massive enough to eat a man or a Ragnar, in two or three bloody gulps.

Macy jumped up and hung by two finger tips from another roof’s edge, and she looked closely at a camera that pivoted towards her as she watched. “These gadgets have a small antenna on the backs, so each one probably transmits a low power signal to some central receiver, which must feed all the images to the outside world. Hitok said millions would be watching this show. Probably including the apes looking for us.”

“That presumes their team members can somehow receive and see the signal. Only they aren’t supposed to carry anything with them but basic low tech weapons like ours.” Thad paused, a questioning look on his face. Then tapped his head meaningfully.

He switched to a general Comtap link. “People, I’m wondering if, or how, the enemy team might use these images, and perhaps audio? The normal training cadre here must use all these cameras somehow. Unless they carry some sort of handheld monitor, they could only observe the pictures from a room in one of these buildings.

“Hitok deliberately picked combat instructors, and some of them were once trained here, meaning they know about the cameras. They may have some means to monitor the broadcast, and that could be via their memory enhancers. They would know where we are, and what we’re doing. Athena, have you picked up a broadcast at High City?”

“I’m checking now.”

Athena had an answered shortly. “I’m still above Scout 1, and looking after Cal and Fredrico, also in the plaza. My AI has detected a broadcast signal that started about the time you guys reached the island. It isn’t a frequency our Comtaps can receive, but it’s close to the bands it sensed were used when Hitok was communicating with his Sovereigns. There are tens of thousands of those signals on various channels, which come from their memory enhancers. Hitok’s was encrypted, but some are not. I have the AI analyzing the new general broadcast signal, to see if there’s video and audio modulation.”

The answer was quick in coming. “Hey guys, I can see some of you. There are at least a hundred sideband channels in this general broadcast, and they are all in the range of the frequencies the Ragnar use for their personal communications. If the public is watching you, then perhaps the apes coming after you are also viewers.”

Mel asked, “They don’t have the same superconducting interface, like we do with our Comtaps. How would they see mental images, like we do with Mind Tap?”

“Hell,” Macy complained, “even if all they do is hear us, that’s an unfair advantage.”

In the plaza, Cal had invisibly approached the dozen armed Ragnar that were still posted around the Ravager. He’d been wondering about the sudden blank stares they had intermittently displayed in the last fifteen minutes, when previously they had been turning their heads, looking all around, conversing normally. Up close, he saw faint glints in the left eye of each Ragoon.

“Shit. Folks, do you recall the spec ops visual enhancement technology, what they were using when we first encountered them on Poldark? The infrared detection, and computer generated video projection system implanted in one eye? These bastards have something equivalent in their left eyes. I think they may be able to select which image of the sub-channels in the main broadcast to watch. If the goons they left here in the plaza can watch you, I’ll bet the ones hunting you can. They’re frigging cheating if they are.”

Surprisingly, Thad wasn’t the least upset. “We never revealed our specific genetic enhancements, and they didn’t ask, nor did we ask them about this broadcast. Now we know, and we can use it too.”

Gonzo Haliburton, on the team with Thad, wasn’t the fastest thinking Kobani. Or perhaps as fast, but not as sharp and analytical. Having Mind Tap, a Comtap, and even a wolfbat memory matrix, didn’t make you a genius. Not every Kobani was adept at pulling out generally available data, and if you didn’t know what was in your vast collection of information, or how it related to your current situation, you didn’t seek it, or know what to filter for.

“Colonel, how can we project the pictures inside our eyes? Those pricks can see us from miles away, from many vantage points, and we can’t see them until they get close.”

Thad might have ripped into Sarge with glee, but he was patient with Haliburton. Although the man wasn’t suited for a leadership role, he’d proven fearless in fights, and was good at it.

“Gonzo, Athena’s AI has deciphered the modulation for the video and audio signals in the broadcast from this island. There are only eight of us, and she has a crew of ten. If eight of them each select one of us for a continuous Comtap link, and send us what they see on the cameras that can see us, or that sees the enemy, we’ll have not only the same sort of information the apes do, but a second person to watch for us while we do other things.”

Gonzo’s limited imagination didn’t yield that easily. “There ain’t that many monitor screens in a Scout. Our guys can’t watch us all.”

“Everyone has a suit, with video inside their helmet.”

“Oh, right. OK. Cool.”

Sarge appeared to have nearly bitten his tongue in the effort, but he managed to stay out of the discussion. He focused his annoyance with Gonzo on the locked front door of the HQ, or whatever the administrative building was called. He grasped two support posts that formed part of the sides of the door’s decorative framing, using them as bracing, and kicked as hard as he could at the right side, where the door latch was located. The door material, and the side of the frame shattered and flew inwards, in a spray of fragments of whatever artificial material they were made.

“Hey, they left the front door unlocked,” he announced with a grin. He stepped through to have a look around. Gonzo smiled, and uttered a quip that erased Reynolds’ irritation with him.

“Damn, they’ll be pissed at you. I’ll bet they’ll send a killer team after our asses.” He followed Sarge inside, chuckling.

After a few minutes of searching various unlocked or open offices, the two men saw nothing of interest and walked out, unaware of the reaction of some of their watchers.

****

Hitok, his shuttle en route to High City, was watching the humans as they explored the training compound. His largest monitor screen on the shuttle was divided into sixteen small squares, the left eight displayed his people when in camera range, the right side showed what the humans were doing.

What he’d seen so far supported some of their claims, to be able to do things other humans couldn’t do, and frankly, neither could a Ragnar.

One of the males, the one named Mel he thought, took a short running start towards a two-story building, and his leap easily reached the second story lip of the roof overhang, where he used one hand to guide himself around the edge to land lightly in a crouch. It looked like he would have made it without using his hand, which only diverted his trajectory for his graceful landing. Even allowing for their adaptation to a much higher home world gravity, the leg strength required seemed out of proportion for that leap.

After the human climbed to the roof peak he pointed out beyond the compound walls, and looked down to his comrades. His lips didn’t move, and the camera audio pickups heard no words, but when the others looked up at him, there had obviously been communications. They were using their equivalent to a memory enhancer part of the time. Hitok directed the AI in the compound’s communications center to point a wall top camera out to where the man had pointed.

He saw an adult Drathor, closer to the walls than was normal in daylight if the camp was occupied. They were smart hunters, and this one must have noticed the Pounder leave, then silence inside the walls, and the absence of the scent of fresh prey from there. It was out in the open, and it must have crouched down into the brush when the shuttle approached.

These reimported beasts were one of the reasons the camp retained its ancient walls. A young Ragnar in training needed to sleep safe and quietly sometimes. On more than one occasion, over many decades of orbits, Drathor had managed to force their way in through one of the massive gates. The cadre and trainees were not permitted to kill the rare and protected beasts. The trainees had to lure them out with their bodies as bait, as a test of their bravery. In the last resort, if an intruder refused to leave, there was a weapon’s locker with a few low power handheld Debilitater projectors, to use to drive them out with pain.

A Drathor was an excellent scent tracker, fast and smart, and always hungry. It would be interesting to see if the humans dared to exit the compound with that beast in plain sight. And if they could escape from it if they did. Their weapons were too puny to seriously threaten the tough animal. If they stayed where they were, in less than a quarter cycle they’d have eight even deadlier killers inside the walls with them.

Motion on another image caught his attention. The lone female, from a standing start, had easily leaped two and a half times her body length, to grasp the edge of a roof at a corner, to examine one of the surveillance cameras mounted under that eave. He’d set the monitor system AI to track the motion and activity of sixteen designated targets, but he was most interested to see what the humans were doing. Her leap itself, just as that of the male had been, was higher than any Ragnar could match, not without some mechanical help, or a ledge to push off from as they reached higher.

Although she wasn’t as massive as a female Ragnar, she swung there, easily supported by only the end joints of two fingers. The height of those jumps, and the strength of her two finger tips, were things he knew that neither he, nor the most athletic Ragnar could match.

Then the impertinent one called Sarge did something that truly shocked him. He kicked in the locked door to the cadre office. More than kicked it open. It splintered, and tore away one side of the door frame. That tough manufactured plastic had been especially chosen as construction material at this site, and it had never yielded to three previous attacks by massive and hungry Drathor, after the beasts had forced their way through a strongly secured and thickly timbered gate. This human broke it open by himself, with a single kick.

Hitok considered alerting his team now, to caution them about the surprising physical feats he’d just witnessed several Kobani perform. He decided to wait, because he could see his Ragoons were all moving as quickly as they could, each one eager to reach, the compound first, and they couldn’t safely do that and watch what he wanted to show them.

Most of their travel was spent moving along the most secure natural vine trails, located nearly a hundred feet above the winding paths through the undergrowth. They wouldn’t want to pause, or even slow down, to focus attention on an eye implant’s detailed projection of what the humans had just done. All they could do, without slowing, was simply confirm that the images indicated their targets were still inside the compound, because the background included the buildings.

They needed both eyes to find fast and safe path-vine routes between the trees, and to guard against unexpectedly coming upon any of the dangerous arboreal animals and insects, and watch for possible aerial threats, which could dive through the overhead canopy, to attack from above or behind them. Traveling fast and reckless was already a risk.

Yet, before they closed with their opponents, Hitok had to make sure they were aware of some of the improbable capabilities of their foe. His Ragoons on Tanner’s World had not encountered Kobani in hand to hand fighting. Exceptional leg and finger strength wasn’t discernable from previous space combat, but their claim to have unusual strength had now been established.

****

Thad had to ask. “Does anyone wish to wait for them here? It might be another hour before they cover the eight or ten miles from the ends of the island.” He wasn’t soliciting volunteers exactly, but if they split into two groups and everyone went out to meet the enemy on a ten-mile wide, rainforest covered island, it was quite possible some of them could pass each other unseen.

Sarge offered a compromise. “I’m willing to stay relatively close to the compound, in the area here, outside the dense rainforest. I’d like to see that big hairy beast a bit closer. If Athena has someone monitor channels of the four cameras mounted over each gate, I’d know if any apes sailed past all of you out in the jungle.”

“OK. I wouldn’t want any of them arriving here, and thinking we ran and hid from them. Part of the purpose of our agreeing to this matchup is giving the Ragnar population a perception of us as fighters they need to respect.”

In an afterthought, he added, “Sarge, you’d better be careful. That thing has hair, not scales, so it probably isn’t a cold blooded, slow moving reptile. It can probably run straight through any of that brush, which looks to be higher than we are tall.”

“I’ll bet I could outrun it on a trail, and every one of the red bark tree groves we can see has multiple trails leading to it, and a clearing under them. They appear to drop fruit, and animals must gather under them to feed. I was thinking of drawing it to one of the trees, so I could climb up and watch it from up close.”

“Yeah, well don’t forget our hunting trip on Juro continent two years ago. That pack of red raptors was a damn sight faster than you that morning.”

Reynolds was defensive. “They only got that close ‘cause I had to pull my trousers up first.”

At that cryptic remark, Macy adlibbed a facetious jab. “I didn’t know there were sheep analogues on Juro. Couldn’t you just kiss her and run?” She laughed at his suddenly open mouth and red face.

Sputtering at the turn the joke had taken, he didn’t help his case. “I was answering the call of nature, damn you.”

“I’ll bet you were,” she shot back.

“Hey, hey,” Thad said, to deflect the joke back to the one he’d started. “The man went into a grove of low growth Brindle trees, with their large soft leaves. He wanted privacy while he contributed to their fertilization, and had the use of nature’s toilet tissue. There was nothing obscene or dirty involved.”

“Thank you for clearing that up.” Sarge glared at Macy, and appreciated the support. For about two seconds.

“Nope. Not dirty at all. But damned stupid! Walking off without a gun in dinosaur country. Sarge scrambled up a taller tree just in time, and the raptor pack didn’t get shit for their trouble. No, wait…, that’s all they did get.” Now he and Macy laughed together, while Reynolds fumed.

Gonzo, not much of a humorist, wanted action, and he wasn’t interested in waiting. “The first group let off have a head start over the second bunch. How about four of us meet them half way? If Sarge keeps that cuddly monster occupied, we can navigate the trails to the denser forest faster. They claim to be at ease in those trees, running along vines. I’d like to try that, and show them we can meet them on their own terms. If we wait another half hour, they might reach the central highlands before we get to the forest.”

“OK. Jindal, Sam, Kintar, you three go with Gonzo; spread out when you reach the tall trees. Try to intercept the group coming from the north. I assume Hitok split his team into two groups of four, but they might not stay together along the way.”

He gestured at Macy and Mel, the latter still on the roof. “You two are with me. We’ll meet the southern group. We’ll try to let one get past us for Sarge. Perhaps he’ll feed one to his hairy friend.”

Sarge had a suggestion. “How about we call it an H-Rex rather than hairy friend. At least until we learn the Ragnar name.” Looking at the two Kobani groups ready to move, he said, “I’ll go get its attention, then you seven head out.” He ran to the north-west side of the compound’s wall and scrambled up in two bounds. There, using that height, he took a second to scope out the trails that led to a tree grove, nearly halfway to the beast.

The creature obviously had good eyesight. It immediately detected his movement, and it pivoted its head towards him to bring its binocular vision into play, estimating his size and distance.

It didn’t make a sound or a move until its potential prey leaped down from wall on the outside. It merely made a deep grunt, and leaned forward from its upright posture, using its tail to balance the massive head and toothy jaws, and its two powerful legs started a ground covering lope along the trail, holding the oddly short arms close to its chest. With its body now lower than the height of the brush, it effectively vanished, and it moved towards the odd-looking animal, expecting to pick up its scent or hear it when it drew closer. This was a tactic it was familiar with, used by the hairy delicious animals that often taunted it, but not always successfully. Even if it missed this prey, it had just encountered half-day old scat of the horned black browsers, which were a more substantial meal. It would welcome either a meal or a snack, after a predawn rain that had suppressed the scent of a trail it had followed last night to this more open area. Then the giant flying beast forced it to hide, and probably startled the beasts he stalked into running farther away from him.

As soon as Mel confirmed the predator was going after Sarge, Thad’s group opened the massive south gate, and vanished into a trail through brush that ranged from human height, to ten or fifteen feet high. There were large prints in the thin soil, which looked as if a so-called H-Rex might have made them recently, but being filled with water, were not made after this morning’s rain. Obviously, the ancient wall and heavy gates served a genuine purpose.

****

Salmod was running easily along a long sagging vine, only thirty feet above the forest floor. He instinctively balanced himself, to avoid starting the leafy path-vine from swinging side to side. Despite his desire for speed, he placed his bare feet gently enough to minimize the risk of pulling this new path-vine free of its days-old attachment point on the tree ahead. He avoided gripping it too tightly between his big and second toe, to not tug on it overly hard as he moved forward.

His boots were banging against the sides of his thighs, hanging as they were from his weapons belt. After his near fall, he was forced to use these newer vine links, to work his way back up to the older and more taut vines located higher, where there was better light for their leaves. He could have paused to climb a tree to reach the mature vines, but if he went vertical, he would not be moving horizontally, towards the enemy he wanted to be the first to meet.

He cursed the stupid falgrat sucking dragnak, for causing his fall and near injury, delaying him. The large leathery flying predator had caught a mere glimpse of Salmod, as he raced swiftly along an older, rigid, and dominant path-vine, located just within the base of the canopy branches. He was flashing in and out of the same beams of sunlight the vines sought, and that flash of motion is what drew the attention of the predator as it glided over the forest top.

It dove through the canopy, and coming from above and behind Salmond, the sharp beaked killer would have speared him in the back. Even had he survived the wound, and fought off the predator as it followed him into the undergrowth, which might or might not safely break his fall, he’d have been unfit to continue his mission. It was only the whisper of a wing tip brushing leaves that warned him in time.

He threw himself down at the vine, using the grip of his left foot toes and left hand to hold on, as he reached for the sheathed long knife at his left hip. His body swung below the vine just as the dragnak, adjusting its trajectory downward, smashed into the vine as Salmond’s falling weight also yanked down. The old vine, having fruited long ago, was dry and gradually dying. The wrist thick tendrils of its final attachment point snapped at the point where it had wrapped around the thin upper tree trunk, only a short distance ahead of Salmod.

Even as the two combatants started to fall, the dragnak was struggling to get free. It would glide down to attack its hopefully injured prey where it landed. Salmod pulled his blade free, and slashed backhanded as the predator flapped its nine-foot wingspan to pull back. It had lifted its slender pointed-beak skyward, its sturdy throat exposed. The muscled neck, used to thrust its beak into prey and absorb the impact, gushed a mortal amount of blood as the sharp edge bit halfway through.

Keeping his grip on the vine, still attached to the anchor tree ten body lengths away, Salmod started what would be a long swing that would smash him into that same tree. He was still high enough to be seriously injured if he let go of the vine. However, he had a bit of luck.

The dying parent path-vine had fruited long enough ago that a child vine had already started its march up between the same pair of trees, and was directly below him. If it had anchored strongly enough to the receiver tree, it might hold him. He coolly shifted his long knife to his left hand as he let go of the falling vine, and reached for the daughter vine with his right, as he dropped several body lengths straight down. Just as his right hand gripped the daughter, his left used the blade to severe it in what was considered almost sacrilege against these valued aerial routes. This relieved the full shock of his weight on the younger green shoots, and he swung a far shorter arc to the receiving tree, absorbing the impact with his legs as he wrapped his long arms halfway around the skinny upper trunk.

He had to use the rough bark as grips to clamber lower to the next closest young path-vine link to the next tree. As he did that, he wondered what the humans were doing. The background in the images of them proved they had left the compound.

****

Sarge sat in the red barked fork of a tree at the edge of the grove of nine trees, looking down into the gaping, saliva dripping jaws of the furry brown, astonishingly fast, twenty-five-foot tall predator that had chased him up the tree.

He was annoyed, and thinking of how he might hide his predicament from the team. Crap! Thad will add this to the damned raptor story.

On a straight-away, he could have outdistanced the swift but lumbering creature. But the game trails twisted, following the underlying rocky outcrops that barely protruded from the soil. The underbrush was too thick for a man to break through easily, and maintain a survivable pace when a multi ton beast could cut the corners, following your scent and the sounds of your feet. It wasn’t exactly a close-call when he reached the grove of trees and scrambled up the first one, but he wasn’t positive the beast couldn’t simply knock it over, although it hadn’t tried yet.

It seemed plausible it could push them over with enough effort, if it decided to try. The trees topped out at about fifty feet, with wide spread limbs, and feathery tan shaded leaves on long fronds extending from the limbs. The trunks were rough, providing a good grip, and the lowest limbs were over twenty feet above the ground. Not that he could use those to sit, because that would put him at eye level with the hungry, stinky breathed bastard.

“Can’t climb with those puny damn little arms, can ya, Brownie?” He named the beast he’d been taunting. Before he started doing that, he’d verified there were overlapping limbs of adjacent trees where he could move if the H-Rex figured out how to push over this tree. It snarled, at him, and made grunting noises, but had not made any loud roaring sounds, as would have a K-Rex, on Koban.

There were numerous vines strung between all the trees, but they seemed somehow thinner versions of those he’d seen at High City, or glimpsed through clearings of the rain forest. Here, they didn’t have to fight for scraps of light beneath that much denser canopy, and didn’t put as many resources into extending so far, and climbing so high. In a pinch, he was confident he could use them to cross between trees, or cut them and swing to the ground, where he could run to the next tree. He’d tested a browner mature looking vine with his hands, and it was extremely tough.

As he’d suspected, there were fruit covered seed pods on half the trees, and many, stripped of their outer flesh by feeding animals, laid on the ground. Apparently, he was in a “male” tree of the species, and there were no pods he could examine. Not that he was hungry. But if he couldn’t outwait this “distraction” he’d offered to create, he’d still be sitting here when the fight was over.

He moved over to examine the vine he’d tested earlier, with an idea in mind. He’d seen how limited the movement and utility was of the ridiculous small arms that always evolved on predators like this, who walked on their two back legs, and attacked only with massive jaws filled with serrated dagger-like flesh tearing teeth.

It had shoulders of a sort, at the arms, forming a slight bulge behind and below the back of the heavy skull that the neck supported. It was obvious this poor creature couldn’t scratch its own nose, or pick its teeth with the three short claws on its underdeveloped “hands.” The arms were so short, all it could do was scratch its chest if that itched.

That gave him an idea. If it worked, he’d not have to sit here and miss-out on proving a Kobani was someone the Ragnar should respect.

****

Thad, Macy, and Mel, made it through the lower brush, and past two groves of red trees without serious incident. A herd of forty or so of the large horned cattle-like browsers were under the second of the tree groves, feeding on dropped fruit. When the Kobani suddenly appeared from a game trail, they startled at the unfamiliar forms and alien smell, forming a rough circle, with several calves and a pregnant cow in the center for protection.

The three humans stayed at the edge of the trampled down and heavily browsed ground around the grove of red trees. On the far side, by agreement, the three spilt up, and after a knowing glance at a camera mounted on a pole, each one entered different game trials that led towards the edge of the rain forest, and they vanished into the brush. An orbital Scout had a clear enough view of the island to pass along some information to Thad’s team.

“Thad, Will Chernot here. The rocky spine of the island isn’t as long in the southern direction. You’ll reach the edge of the rain forest a mile sooner than will Jindal’s group.”

He labeled the other four Kobani as Jindal’s group, because predictably, Gonzo had deferred to the oldest and most experienced Kobani of the four in the northern group, not that any of them required a leader to do what had to be done. Nevertheless, with his example, the younger Sam, and Kintar went along with letting Jindal make decisions for them as a group.

Thad had a question. “The second group of Ragnar that went south for their drop-off, is their distance to the compound also shorter?”

“Yes. By at least a mile and a half less travel for them. They won’t take as long to reach you. I tried to pick them up directly with infrared, but they move too fast to register under that thick tree cover, and clouds get in the way. I see groups of slowly moving animals that may be more of the water buffalo looking cattle you just passed, and I’ve seen three of the big predators like the one close to the compound. That one has Sarge stuck up in a tree, I might add.”

“Again?” He smiled at how he’d exploit that amusing bit of news later.

“Will, how about cameras under the tree canopy in the south? Has anyone seen our opponents with those? What they’re doing, how they’re traveling? Are they on the ground or in the trees?”

Athena was monitoring the group link. “Thad, we’ve seen both groups in flashes, and they nearly all stay high in the trees, running along those aerial vines, which link almost all the trees together. They sometimes climb or descend to get to the next vine. Unfortunately, even though the cameras have some sort of identifying script in their signal, we don’t know how they were laid out. I can’t figure out which ones are on the north side from the south camera units, and they point in haphazard directions as they shift to follow motion, so the angle of the sun that leaks through the trees is no help.

“I can tell you this, though. One group has split into four individuals traveling alone, and the other has formed loose pairs, that seem to stay closer together, because we’ve seen them near each other in the images a few times. If the AI can decide which way the cameras were pointed, north, south, east, or west, we’ll know which group is which.”

Glancing ahead over the brush at the next trail bend, he said, “I can see the tops of the canopy of trees. I’ll be there in five minutes. I’ve seen a camera on a tall pole at every tree grove, and at places where main trails cross, so they know where we are. I intend to avoid cameras from now on, if I can. I hope they had a good huff when Sarge got treed by that H-Rex.”

****

Hitok, now aboard Grudfad’s Ravager, was alternating between scratching his chin and his rump, looking at the camera that showed the busy human, up in the second Sweet tree, seemingly trying to draw the Drathor into a position directly below him. He’d moved to the other tree, after slashing the path-vine free of its nearby anchor tree. Then he half jumped half swung on the vine, lucky his lighter weight had not torn the tendrils free from high up in the receiver tree.

The new bright green tendrils at the receiver tree were obviously in the process of elevating the vine at that end, climbing at plant slowness to a higher point. It would be easy to tear it free, with his weight added to that of the sagging vine’s own weight. It wouldn’t be secure until it’s new higher position was firm at the receiver tree, and it drew up its own slack to make it tight again on the receiver, and slightly higher than at the anchor tree. Then the anchor side would grow tendrils to elevate the anchor side, repeating the process until the path-vine reached an optimum height, and fruited where animals couldn’t reach its immature seed pods.

Instead of breaking a leg when he landed, or even falling in a tumble, the human named Sarge stuck the ground at a full run, and raced swiftly to the receiver tree, pulling the end of the killed path-vine with him. His speed, even hauling the heavy vine along, easily outpaced the Drathor, who had to dodge around the first tree after it lowered its head below the lowest branches.

In moves that any young tree climbing Ragnar would have envied, the Kobani used his hands and feet on each side of the Sweet tree’s trunk, to climb it in a blur of movement that no Ragnar athlete could have matched, with the anchor end of the heavy path-vine draped around his neck and shoulders.

Grudfad voiced what Hitok’s confused reaction revealed had been on his mind when he’d made that crossing a short time ago.

“Why didn’t he simply walk across the path-vine to the other tree? We saw he had excellent balance as he walked along the tree branches without even a wobble. The vine would have held if he were careful, and he was well above the reach of the Drathor. They can’t jump higher than half the human’s body length.”

Hitok had a different set of questions. “He can’t know that, and only experience teaches you when a vine’s receiver tree attachment has matured. He would have to guess about that, but since he didn’t even try to walk across, he always had something different in mind. I don’t know why he wanted to move to another tree at all. He’s still trapped. Then he pulled in the piece of the path-vine he wastefully killed, and gathered it in the tree and cut it into other pieces, and tied the pieces together. Now he’s sitting on lower branches, kicking his legs to attract the Drathor for some reason. It may not be able to jump very high, but the human’s feet and lower legs are at risk where he is.”

The irritated predator, frustrated it had missed its prey again while it was on the ground, was drawn to the chance to pull it down and rip it into bite sized gobbets.

The creature remained sitting just higher than the hungry monster could lift its snout. It stood under its tormentor, looking up, and gradually bunched its massive legs as it pointed its closed maw upward, ready to open and snap it shut. Its instincts said this morsel was just at the limits it could reach.

With a confused shake of one shoulder, Grudfad said, “It’s ready to jump. The human has pulled his legs up but his behind is within reach of a short leap. He’s moved the clump of vines onto his lap, which will slow him if he tries to pull back or jump away. He’s fast, but his feet are not under him, ready to leap higher. In his ignorance, he will miss his true opponent, and die there. Which will prove this experienced Kobani was less capable than an immature Ragnar at surviving on our home world.”

“I’m not so sure…” Hitok began, when the Drathor unleashed his short multi ton leap, and thrust its neck upwards, ready to open and snap powerful jaws shut on this well-earned snack.

Incredibly, the human not only didn’t try to pull back, he committed apparent suicide, by dropping off the limb towards the unavoidable fate rising to take him, spreading his arms wide in acceptance, holding the vines out as a symbolic wreath, to commemorate his needless and gruesome death.

A moment later, millions of Ragnar around the planet gasped, as that encounter unfolded.

****

Candar, and his female mission partner, Felspan, slowed their rush to the compound when the brightening ahead proved they were reaching the edge of the deep forest. Both were aware that the humans had left the compound, and memory enhancer communications from associates, monitoring camera images while they focused on travel safety, were providing reports on where the humans were.

They didn’t give a thought to the advantage the cameras and friendly reports gave them. Even though this was supposed to be a basic test of Ragnar warrior skills against interlopers from outside the Empire.

The irony, that electronic surveillance and remote observers providing reports of enemy movements, had never been tools available to their ancient ancestors did not, to them, mean they had an unfair advantage when it came to the actual fighting. Of course, they fully intended to pair up against a single human if they could find one in isolation, and spring a surprise ambush to produce a kill as quickly as possible. Then they would hunt for another isolated target. If they could account for three or even four kills of this arrogant species, they’d enjoy greater glory than the other pair that had been dropped on the same end of the island.

Because of that other pair’s unfortunate encounter with a swarm of minaks, Candar and Felspan had acquired a significant lead. Because of the small venomous and hive-like mammals, those ferocious and berserk acting creatures had forced Hankal and Jendep to backtrack, to divert around the colony’s group of nesting trees. Knives and short swords would decimate the suicidal hand sized little flying horrors, but some of them would find exposed areas to bite. After that, the resulting swelling and stiffness, if joints or hands were bitten, would seriously reduce flexibility, agility, and weapons handling.

The pair knew three humans had moved south from the compound, and had split up before they reached the high trees. Cameras had caught them at a Sweet tree grove, where they had wisely avoided a herd of Brandar cattle. Based on the trail one of them had taken, Candar and Felspan angled to their left, to where their memory enhancer maps told them, based on their previous training on this island, exactly the point where the trail entered the forest. They had chosen their first isolated target, but they needed to increase their speed, to be close when the human first entered the forest, down on the ground and certain to pass below them. A perfect place for them to stage their ambush, two on one.

There were cameras placed at each of six main trails that led into the forest, although there were many narrow paths in between, made by small animals. Fortunately, the humans had thus far always taken the wider trails, which gave them a better view of what might be waiting along the sides or down the middle of these curving trails. Beneath the towering Skytouch trees, a new third dimension was added, and a ground based newcomer to Tantor might glance up, but would be unlikely to perceive the open heights above them as holding threats.

The two slipped their bare feet into the flexible vine walker shoes they’d carried. Unlike boots, this footwear had individual long toe sleeves for gripping, although bare feet made them more surefooted when speed was needed. A heavy boot might deliver a harder blow in hand to hand to foot combat, but it did slow your kicks. Candar and Felspan were the smallest team members, and they used their lighter mass to execute faster moves. They were experts in knife fighting, and used their lightly clad feet as part of their lightning fast moves to prevent an opponent from effectively blocking a knife thrust.

In addition to their daggers, they each carried two finely balanced throwing knives. It was these they intended to employ for initiating their ambush, then move in on their wounded opponent, if still alive, to finish them off with rapid, savage dagger thrusts.

One Skytouch tree length from the edge of the forest, they positioned themselves on young, thus low path-vines, on the back side of two trees, with Candar five body lengths above the trail as it entered the darker woods. Felspan was on the other side, only two body lengths higher than the undergrowth. The cool moist breeze was flowing out of the forest, so they couldn’t smell their adversary, but the reports they received, from observers of the last camera sighting, said the female human had been running down this trail towards the woods.

They each had one throwing knife in their right hand, with the second one ready in a right side rear shoulder sheath, for a quick over-the-shoulder pull and a rapid second throw. They didn’t need to be exposed to watch for their adversary, they used a camera image from a unit mounted on a pole at the entry to the forest. The scene was projected onto the inside of their left eye, to show them when the human came around the last turn in the trail, and entered the cooler gloom.

When the wait grew into a few minutes, they shared concerns via memory enhancers. Candar said, “She must have stopped along the trail. Her pace at last sighting was faster than a walk. I was worried we would miss her entry before being in position.”

“This human is a female,” Felspan replied, trying to analyze an alien species she’d never met. “Females of many species are less aggressive than us. She may be afraid to enter alone. We may have to seek her on the game trail, outside of the forest.”

Like a spider with a leg on a web strand, Candar had the two largest toes of his left foot griping the path-vine that helped support him. His right foot was on the tree for an immediate and more forceful push off, after their throwing knives struck home. The plan was to allow the human to walk between them, coordinate their throws, then leap down and stab the wounded victim to death.

Ragnar were far from the only forest creatures that took advantage of the path-vines, but most were smaller in mass. I sharp vibration transmitted along the sagging young vine had to be from something nearly of Candar’s own mass. He whipped his head around to look over his right shoulder, back along the vine towards its anchor tree.

“You’re a pair of foul droppings, aren’t you?”

The sound, more than the accusation startled him. The words were spoken in oddly accented Fotrol, and “dirty shits” had translated into a milder term than Macy intended.

His right arm was already elevated, prepared to fling a whirling knife towards a target down on the path.

He quickly, but carefully, turned to pivot his torso for a better throwing position, moving his right foot down to the vine, bringing his right shoulder around. The receiving end attachment point under him was secure, but the young tendrils had not hardened for maximum tensile strength yet.

The human female stood, one foot close behind the other, perfectly balanced, a half body length from the path-vine’s anchor tree. Amazingly, with surprise to her advantage, her hands were empty. She hadn’t launched an attack at his exposed back. Perhaps she wasn’t adept at the skill of knife throwing. Nor of approaching your victim quietly, either.

There was a knife sheath at her left hip, one on the outside of her lower right leg, and images had shown she had a medium length sword, carried in a scabbard slung down her back, held by a cross body strap. She shouldn’t have warned him, and he knew Felspan would have heard the words and see his movement. Both had been alerted by her foolishly giving away the element of surprise, which she had somehow achieved.

The swish sound he heard to his left told him Felspan, her throwing arm in a better position, had hurled her first knife. He followed instantly with his own, so it would arrive a split second later, while the human was either ducking or struck by the first blade. He saw a flicker of her eyes to her right, proving she saw Felspan’s throw. His knife, aimed at her torso, would arrive just as she would be avoiding the first blade.

He stamped lightly on the vine to distract her with the vibration. If she survived the first two blades, Felspan’s second would be on its way. He reached up and over his right shoulder to pull his second throwing knife, just as we saw a blur of arm movement from the human.

The human was only a quarter of a tree height from him, almost exactly five body lengths from him, based on his expert judgement, and the laser range finder in his left eye. He estimated Felspan was two additional body lengths from the target, placing it well within a high probability for a deadly throw, and a certainty for his own to blade to strike the center of the human’s chest, sinking deep.

He registered the enemy’s arm movement, as Felspan’s blade glittered in the brighter light at the forest’s edge. The human didn’t react as if she’d been struck, but his first blade was an instant from impact, and he used knives with a flat dull finish exactly because he didn’t want his opponent to see it coming, as he’d seen Felspan’s blade.

He pulled his second blade, and threw it at the same moment he saw two things he considered impossible. The female raised her left hand, a blur to his vision, her body still perfectly balanced on the vine, and grabbed his throwing knife out of the air at chest height, holding its smooth handle. The second impossible thing, came in a glittering twirl, reflecting light from the edge of the forest behind him. That twirl ended with a solid sounding thud on his chest, as Felspan’s blade sunk slightly deeper than its balance point. He looked down to see the end of the throwing handle protruding from his chest, just as the searing pain of his punctured lung robbed him of his next breath.

He didn’t see his own first blade hurled, left handed by the human, at Felspan, because he was grasping at the vine to halt his fall into the undergrowth below him. He caught the vine, but the sharp tug snapped the immature tendrils, and he started a short downward arc to meet the brambles and berries there. He’d expected to be browsing for those berries, after his kill. He wasn’t around for that, nor did he see what happened next.

Felspan watched in disbelief when her blade was grabbed out of the air, and with a mere wrist flip, not a full arm movement, was thrown at Candar. She was already in the process of drawing and throwing her second blade, when she saw a repeat grab of Candar’s blade in mid-flight. Forewarned, she knew what would happen next. Even as her second blade was released, she used her forward arm momentum to hurl her body down, and being at an anchor tree for her path-vine, grabbed it in her fall to swing feet down, and dropped into the underbrush, just as she heard Candar’s knife smack against the tree above her. Since her body wasn’t there to receive the timed throw, it didn’t strike point first, and bounced off into the underbrush. She heard a crash on the other side of the trail, as something heavy hit the brambles. That close to Candar’s tree, it had to be him. If he’d been fully functional, he’d never have fallen, or landed so hard if he did. She was facing this human alone now.

A glance up to the other side of the trail revealed that the vine had pulled free at Candar’s end, and the human couldn’t be seen. There had been no sound of another body falling into the brush from that height. It was too quiet. For a moment.

“Come out, come out, I know where you are.” The words had a strange sing-song quality, but was in the same accented Farlol. No one had told her the enemy could speak their language, but then there had not been much time for a briefing. The direction of the words didn’t seem to be close the tree she’d used. It was closer. She was out in the open, on the trail. She moved quieter than one would expect, for a person that had not been raised in a forest like this.

There wouldn’t be a camera image of this part of the trail, since the support pole was just outside in the open, and she knew it was blocked by trees a short distance into the forest gloom. She moved as quietly as her training taught her, and worked her way towards the trail, closer to the entry. She wanted the light behind her when she stepped onto the trail with the sunlight at her back, possibly dazzling her opponent.

“Stop crunching around and get out in the open. I can even hear you breathing, and I know you are working your way closer to the path. I’ll stay where I am until you can see me. Too bad the camera view is blocked for you. If you keep moving closer to the outer glade, or whatever you call that area, I’ll be able to see you on that camera myself.”

That comment startled Felspan. She has access to the training cameras?

The voice was even farther away, so she pushed carelessly through the brush and brambles, and reached the trail. She was just at the edge of the coverage of the camera, which may have detected her movement. When she spoke, she knew it would pivot in her direction.

Stepping onto the trail, she saw her opponent, relaxing, down on one knee. “You got here ahead of us. Clever move, to ambush the ambushers.”

“I didn’t exactly ambush either of you. Surprise, yes, but I didn’t attack first. For some bizarre reason, I didn’t want to start the fight, but since you two did, I have no qualms about finishing what you started. I don’t know if your partner is dead, but it’s probable. Sorry for you it happened with your own knife. In any event, I didn’t select a good throwing blade out of those offered to us, so I had to use yours.”

Seeing the smaller human should have given Felspan greater confidence, but the reason she was so successful as a knife fighting instructor, was her own size, speed, and agility, when pitted against one of the over muscled big Ragoons, that she needed to learn some of her art and skill.

All she had left of her own weapons was a long double edged knife and a dagger in a sheath strapped to her right inner forearm. She drew both, aware that the human had a short sword, greater strength, and carried a hunting knife and a shorter blade strapped on her lower leg. Well, she only had two arms, and wore boots, which meant she didn’t have grasping feet, therefore a third weapon was only a backup. Her enemy watched, as she drew her weapons, and she stood up smoothly, and started walking gracefully towards her. She didn’t draw any of her own weapons.

Felspan waited, letting her approach. This fight would take place within camera range. Either showing the world her victory, or providing her teammates with useful information about this enemy’s skill and abilities. These individuals were presumably not selected for their mission to Tantor because of their skill at this primitive form of warfare. Something for which her team of eight today was considered experts.

With the image of her opponent catching and throwing back her knife, that last thought wasn’t as comforting as she’d like.

The woman, still empty handed, walked right up to Felspan’s defensive pose, where she held a dagger in her left hand, double edged knife in her right. The Ragnar slashed backhanded at the woman’s belly with the knife, as she simultaneously kicked with her left leg, going for the groin, both moves a diversion. She thrust with the dagger, intending to stab her opponent in the right side when she used her right arm to block the kick and turned to her left, away from the belly slash.

This wasn’t what she’d initially planned to do, but the moment she realized there’d be no swinging short sword or a knife thrust to counter, dodge, or block, she went entirely on the offensive.

The kick was blocked by a raised right knee, her dagger hand and wrist was suddenly grasped in a painful iron grip, and when her right-side wrist was also grabbed, she pivoted that hand to slash the long razor-sharp edge of her blade along the inside of the forearm of that grasping arm. She saw the material of the long shirt sleeve slice open, and the blade’s edge sliding along the pale flesh.

First blood! She thought exultantly, and with her arms held tightly, she lunged down and forward with her forehead, aiming at the top of the shorter human’s unprotected head. The fool was so focused on using her superior strength to hold her wrists, she was unprepared for the head butt coming her way. All Ragnar retained a slight sagittal crest, a ridge of bone running front to back along the midline of their skull. Their heads bashed together with a loud clonking sound, and the result was predictable. Reeling back afterwards, only one remained unfazed, and dropped to her knee.

It wasn’t the ape.

“That was dumb.” Macy let the wobbly ape go. “Kobani skulls have stopped bullets.” While she watched, as her opponent tried to recover, she tore off the cut sleeve at the shoulder of her shirt.

“Damn! You drew first blood.” There was a fine line with two small drops of blood along the inside of her forearm. She was irritated at having been so careless. She should have grabbed the hand with the long knife, not the wrist, to better control the weapon it held.

The ape had sagged to her right knee as she shook her head, to try to throw off the effects of a mild concussion.

In Fotrol, Macy told her, “I don’t give a damn about your rules of honor, I didn’t come here to kill any of you if I didn’t have to. I had to kill your partner, but you sure look beat to me. How about we stop this pointless combat test?”

Macy extended her right hand to her, and the ape let her long knife fall to the ground and opened her hand, and held it out. Taking the hand as Felspan gripped it tightly, the ape seemed to swoon and fall to her side. It was another ruse.

The dagger trust upwards in a killing thrust. At least that was the intention. What happened was, Macy yanked back so violently that she dislocated the treacherous ape’s right shoulder as she spun her around, the dagger briefly poking a hole in her shirt and the skin, drawing a bit more than a drop of blood this time.

“Rules and honor it is, then.” Her decision made for her, Macy grasped Felspan’s chin and the back of her head, and with a quick twist, snapped her neck and let her drop.

She looked up at the camera, the pole standing outside in the full sunlight and yelled, “Screw you!”

It was said in Standard, so she doubted the term would translate into anything that would make sense to them, so she added a gesture.

Her middle finger was probably just as untranslatable, but the unfriendly attitude and obvious anger would surely serve her purpose.

Chapter 4: Reconsidering Ragnar Priorities

Thad, informed by Comtap image of what Macy had done, was already inside the forest. He and Mel, like Macy, had cut over to small game trails to enter the trees, to stay hidden from the cameras that watched the wider main trails. “Mel, I haven’t see any Ragnar movement on this side of the island, and I told Macy to join up with you in the center. I’m hearing some sort of ultrasonic noise from deeper in the forest. It reminds me of wolfbat calls and their echo location.”

His wolfbat hearing had detected the sound as soon as he entered the woods, but it had quieted down from its initial frantic echo pulse repetition, and high volume screeches. This background noise was above his normal human range of hearing. If there was a lifeform that used echo location, he thought of a way he might take advantage of the noise, if he could provoke them to increase their level of calls.

He fished his Torki voice replicator disk out of his small back pack, and draped it around his neck, then scrambled up the nearest Skytouch tree, bypassing the three path-vines he encountered. He needed height before going deeper into the forest. At the fourth vine, a mature one near the base of the canopy, he faced in the direction of the continuing ultrasonic sounds. The directionality had improved as he rose higher, because less of the high-pitched sounds were absorbed in the ground cover.

He pulled a recorded wolfbat echolocation session from a Comtap file he’d preserved, from a pterodactyl type of dinosaur photo jaunt he’d taken with his daughter, on Juro continent. She took two pet wolfbats along, and used them as sort of aerial hunting dogs, to locate the flying dinosaur’s nesting grounds. He aimed the disk towards the source of the sounds, closed his eyes, and played the recording. In seconds the response he hoped for, filled the forest with an ultrasonic flood of cries and echolocations projected his way. He didn’t know what animal made them, but he could use the reflected sounds.

With his eyes closed, the active section of his wolfbat memory matrix started forming an echolocation map in three dimensions. The woods did not form an enclosed space, so the sound map image wasn’t complete behind him or to the sides, but using the volume of the alien sounds to his front, and his own sound transmission, a grainy, shadowy sonic image formed in his mind in that direction. He could visualize the individual trees, even the faint lines of the vines linking them, and a mostly dark region on the ground where the sound was absorbed. What he searched for was movements within the sea of sound between the trees, that would either be bright points of shifting ultrasonic sound reflection, or if the object absorbed those frequencies, darker shifting blobs of absorption.

Maggi Fisher had first discovered this unsuspected ability, derived from the wolfbat genes they adapted for hearing Krall ultrasonic communications. The Kobani had wanted to hear and understand Krall ultrasonic speech, but they gained more than they expected. It was paying off again.

Moving towards him, away from the background of alien animal generated sounds, were two clumps of darkness, that were following the thin glowing lines of vines between trees. He even sensed, from his own wolfbat echolocation broadcast, bright pinpoint echoes from reflective objects connected to the shifting dark points of sonic absorption.

Two Ragnar were coming his way, and he counted at least three metallic, or at least reflective weapons, being carried by each opponent. He needed to move to intercept them, because they would pass below him and well to his right. They were headed for the larger animal-made path he’d abandoned prior to entering the woods. Obviously, as with Macy, they knew where to expect him, and had no idea their broadcasts from the cameras were being intercepted. His ultrasonic burst of wolfbat echolocations, coming from him personally, seemed to have no impact on the paths they were following along the vines. They couldn’t hear the high frequency sound. He sensed each of them when they shifted to new vines, descending rather than climbing the trees, selecting the lower vines that took them towards the edge of the forest. They were assuming he would naturally be limited to ground travel, and walk right into their aerial attack.

He opened his eyes, and visually picked out the nearby trees that matched with his sound map matrix, and started moving in a direction to intercept the Ragnar.

“Mel, Macy, the other two Ragnar came down the island on my side. Macy, head back to the compound. Mel, you’re closer to me, and might have to go after the one nearest to you if he doesn’t stay with his partner. Here’s where they are right now. He sent Comtap coordinates he’d measured, based on where the compound was when they departed. Mel could translate, since he also knew where the compound was from himself.

He knew Macy had risked minor wounds to try and convince the female Ragnar to accept a draw, when in fact it wasn’t even a close-call. Thad wasn’t inclined to do that. Hitok would see an offer of a draw the same way he had the offer of a truce on Tanner’s World. Weakness on the part of the Federation, and of the Kobani, the defenders of the Federation.

Greeves ran smoothly along several vines, leaping down to the next two trees at the ends, to reach the next lower vine quicker than climbing down. A descent like that would take too long, and he needed to reach his target tree before his movements across their field of view could be noticed.

He finally reached the tree above where he expected one of the Ragnar to go past, and who would have to climb down to the next path-vine. Making a quick assessment, he pulled a knife and walked back thirty feet from the receiver tree before cutting the slender but tough young vine. He swung down with it, even as he pulled himself up the vine as he dropped. At the tree, he cut away the tendrils holding it securely to the tree, and now had a flexible, slender, and strong section of vine, after stripping it of leaves and immature seed pods.

The longer remainder of the vine had fallen, and now dangled from its anchor tree, far enough away that the approaching Ragnar would be unlikely to notice. Greeves tied a knot, and coiled the vine over his left shoulder, and climbed down the tree to position himself just above where the Ragnar would arrive, at the strong anchor end of a lower vine. The Ragnar would be in a rush to climb down to the next path-vine, and Greeves positioned himself two body lengths higher than the vine where he’d arrive.

He didn’t know why the pair was so far behind the two Ragnar that Macy intercepted. It could have something to do with the multiple ultrasonic pulses he’d heard. They may have encountered some sort of predator group that used echo location for hunting.

As he hung on the back side of the tree, he first heard the other Ragnar, racing in parallel to the one he waited for. That ape was breathing heavy, and he could hear his scrambling on the rough bark, scraps of which broke fee and fall into the underbrush, causing additional noise. He wasn’t being very cautious in his hurry. He finally heard the ape he wanted to take, drawing close. It was faint, but he felt the slight vibration of the tree, as his target started running across the vine, also in a hurry.

Using his leg strength to squeeze his feet and calves against the rough tree bark, to briefly support his weight, he pulled the carefully coiled vine from his left shoulder, and grasped one end with his right hand, his left hand resuming its grip on a ridge of bark, the coil of vine hanging from his forearm.

The Ragnar reached the tree just below Greeves, and on the opposite side. The Ragnar reached half way around the tree trunk for a grip, and started his scramble down to the next vine. Greeves could see him clearly, and the ape never glanced up, focused on his rapid descent. Swinging around the tree over the ape, he released his grip, pushed back slightly, and dropped. It was a calculated risk, and he hoped the anchor attachment on the next lower vine was strong enough. There’d been no time to check that anchor point, and he was nearly sixty-five feet above the forest floor.

The puffing breaths of the descending ape neared him quickly. As he fell silently, only two feet behind his target, he slipped the vine noose he’d made over its head, and jerked his right arm back sharply, to tighten the loop. As expected, he jerked the ape away from its grip on the tree, and his partly strangled squawk was the only sound. Thad, tossed the rest of the coiled vine with his left hand, so it would fall across the path-vine the Ragnar had wanted to reach.

Greeves pushed down on the Ragnar, his hands on at his shoulders as it reached for the vine encircling its neck. That push moved the ape out of arms reach of the next path-vine and the tree trunk, and Greeves used the shove to move closer to the tree. The ape made a valiant effort to reach for the path-vine as he passed it, but he was well short. The tossed vine fell across the thick anchor point, and Greeves pressed and scraped his feet against the tree to slow himself, and instead of grabbing the anchor vine, which could have pulled it from the tree, he reached for the other end of his uncoiled vine, and took a firm grip. He wasn’t sure this would work.

Using himself as an adjustable counter weight on the part of his improvised rope that he’d slung over the anchor point, the three hundred pound Ragnar started pulling that rope down on his side, as Greeves was lifted on his side. The green vine he was using as a hangman’s rope was smooth, and it slid easily around the anchor end of the path-vine. When Thad was pulled up to the anchor point, he grasped that and flung his end of the coiled vine around that again and gripped it tightly. The ape’s weight at the end jerked the rope-vine taut with an audible snapping sound, and the anchor tendrils threatened to tear loose, despite Greeves pushing up on it as best he could.

At first, Greeves thought the snap sound had been the ape’s neck breaking, for a mercifully fast death. But the continued twitching, and a glance down, revealed the ape was using its left hand to try to support some of its weight, grasping the smooth vine above his head, but his grip kept slipping. When he used his right hand to reach towards a knife sheath at its waist, Greeves jerked the vine upward sharply, tightening the noose, and then let the Ragnar drop a foot, repeating that several times. This drew the noose tighter, and prevented the struggling and suffocating ape from pulling his knife, and the bare toes of his flailing legs barely touched the tree bark on closer swings. The previously winded opponent soon ceased to struggle, as his oxygen starved lungs were unable to enrich the blood that serviced his brain.

One down. Now I’ll have to chase the other one, Thad thought. Incorrectly, as it happened.

He’d overlooked their memory enhancers. Just because the dying Ragnar couldn’t shout, didn’t mean it was electronically mute. A soft audible call, in Farlol, caused Greeves to look away from the dangling dead Ragnar.

“Hankal. Where are you? Say again what’s wrong with your throat?”

The sound came from one of the nearby trees. The partner had turned back, evidently when his choking comrade called him in the seconds he’d had before passing out. Greeves wanted him to come closer, and to be distracted. He drew his knife and slashed through the vine holding the recently departed Hankal. Then, before the body hit the underbrush, creating a directional noise for the other Ragnar to follow, he clambered quietly around the side of the tree, to stay out of sight. Closing his eyes, the sonic map in his memory matrix recalled a path-vine from that direction, which led to this tree. It was a plausible route.

The crashing of the dead weight into the underbrush at the base of the Skytouch tree was suitably loud.

“I see you. I’m coming.”

When Greeves heard sounds of descent on the tree from above, on the same side where the body had fallen, he stayed where he was. When the sound reached the opposite side of the tree, Greeves moved around to grasp the same anchor point on the path-vine.

He said, “Hello.”

And stabbed Hankel’s startled comrade in the throat when he looked up at the vine he’d just passed. There was a look of shock on his face, which Greeves had seen on so many of the Krall he’d killed. Surprised that a mere human had beaten them.

This time, that look might bother him later, when he thought about it. Right now, all he said was, “Goodbye.”

The Ragnar, to his credit, snatched a throwing knife from his waist, and made a passable throw at the enemy that had killed him. As he clutched his throat and dropped to join his dead partner, he was treated to the amazing sight of his blade being caught in midair, by the handle.

The Ragnar’s final thought, and matching memory enhancer transmission, was, “The south team has failed.” Jendep had heard the report of the loss of the other pair of fighters, also to a single Kobani. Now it was up to the other half of the team.

On a Comtap link, Thad said, “Mel, head back to the compound with Macy. I just intercepted the other pair. I’ll catch up with you.” There was no need to mention he’d defeated and killed them. Saying he’d intercepted them was adequate.

****

When Salmod reached the edge of the high forest, he knew he was in the lead of his group of four, and had just received a report that Felspan was a visually confirmed kill, and that her traveling partner, Candar, had not replied to attempts to contact him. The other pair to the south had only been delayed by a dragnak swarm, and he’d not heard more about them.

On an island as wide as it was at this point, and the multiple reports that the humans repeatedly avoided the cameras where they entered the forest, it was not surprising he’d missed the four humans previously seen trekking north. Somehow, the enemy knew, or suspected, that camera images were being provided to the Ragnar team, or perhaps that they were receiving memory enhancer reports. Both suppositions were true, and the humans had been told that Ragnar all over Tantor would be watching today. It wouldn’t require a genius among the Kobani to deduce that their movements might be reported to Ragnar team members.

He notified the other three team members behind him that he was at the central glade, and had not seen or heard any of the four opponents sent north to meet them. There was no point turning back to try to seek one of them in the depths of the rain forest, when there was another one in plain sight near the compound, assuming he stayed alive long enough. Although the report Salmod received about that one sounded too improbable to possibly be accurate. He wanted to see this for himself, to kill the human that had personally turned his participation in this solemn Ragnar ritual of warrior honor into a shameful farce.

****

The shameless, farcical one, was only trying to have fun. “Yee Haw, giddyup.”

He kicked his mount gently with both heels to urge it forward, but it stupidly remained standing still, grunting in rage for the hundredth time, and tried to shake him off yet again. Even if Sarge managed to get it to herd any of the panic-stricken water buffalo into a grove of trees, he’d decided there wasn’t enough of the spare vine left, to use it as a lariat to catch one.

Besides, he doubted if he could keep the damned H-Rex from killing a cow even if he caught one. Therefore, if it wouldn’t go forward, he tried to see if it remembered how to follow the command to face to the right. He kicked his irritable mount with his right heel, tugged the reins to the right, and applied his left hand to the most sensitive tissue he could reach, the membrane covering its left ear, near the back of it’s skull.

He sent a Mind Tap image via those nerves, to induce it to go in the direction he wanted, to reinforce the pull of the reins, and the kicking heel. This H-Rex was a lot dumber than he’d expected a mammal to be. It refused to take any cue from the reins when they pulled at the simple bridle, or from his heel thumping at the base of its neck. Feeding it a false image of its rider running away usually worked to get it moving. Except, if it saw any food animal of greater mass, it then shifted direction that way.

He was harshly critical in his thoughts. Stupid beast, answering only to the demands of your stomach.

Which reminded Sarge he was hungry. He pulled a protein bar from a pocket, peeled it, and munched as the monster lumbered down the trail after the imaginary human placed in its own thoughts.

The best part of the morning had been when he’d dropped out of the red tree and quickly slipped the improvised bridle over the predator’s rising muzzle. He pushed on the beast’s nose to swing himself around the opening maw as it lunged towards the branch he just left, and he slid astraddle the back of its neck, his knees squeezing in just above the slight bulge of its puny front arm shoulders, holding him in place just above and behind those useless flailing short arms. The clawed hands couldn’t reach the vine loop bridle encircling its face, now positioned behind its wide-open jaws. It grunted furiously, pawed uselessly at the vine it couldn’t reach, shook its head, and twisted it massive body, all to no avail.

Reynolds knew the vine reins would be too weak to force the beast to turn his head, so he merely pulled them snug to help him stay in place on the back of its neck, as his dino-bronco tried to shake him off. He allowed it to tire itself, and was relieved it wasn’t smart enough to try to scrape him off by brushing against a tree trunk. If it did that, he’d have to jump off into the lower limbs.

He wasn’t fool enough to think his Kobani strength could fight this big sucker on the ground. It might not be able to crunch through his whiteraptor carbon nanotube reinforced bones, but he knew his newly puncture resistant skin, and carbon fiber muscles would yield to those sharp and serrated teeth, when driven by the bite force of those powerful jaw muscles.

He wanted to let it get used to his presence, tire of trying to shake him off, and then spend some time trying to train it to take simple commands. At least until a Ragnar made it close to the compound. In the meantime, he intended to put on a show for the watchers, perfectly aware they wouldn’t dare to try this.

Since he had the advantage of other Kobani watchers, who had become Sarge fans for now, he knew where several small herds of those water buffalo analogues were, near the compound. Eventually, he induced and guided the beast closer to one of the herds, with eighteen animals. They were browsing on shoots at the edge of the clearing, having scavenged all the recently dropped meaty fruit from the fallen seed pods. They did that until they heard the grunts and foot thumps of the H-Rex, as it came close.

They formed a defensive ring, calves in the center, just as they had when Thad’s team passed another group. It seemed to Sarge, and his kibitzers, that the predator could safely take one of them down if it were separated from herd-mates. However, in a group, his abdomen would be exposed to the tips of multiple horns if he approached their defensive formation. He normally tried to ambush and separate a weaker or isolated animal, by lurching out from a side trail, or through a thin wall of weeds, as they passed him along a narrow trail, strung out so they couldn’t form a circle.

Unable to play cowboy on a dinosaur, he decided to become an equestrian, of sorts, since this not only wasn’t a horse, it would eat one if it encountered a defenseless meal on hooves.

When the reports came, first from Macy, and then Thad, that the four southern Ragnar team members wouldn’t complete the trip to the compound, he wondered if he’d left himself out of the more meaningful part of this exercise, that of teaching the Ragnar about the people they faced in the war about to start. It was four against four on the north side of the compound, so it was quite possible there wouldn’t be a chance for him to show off his true combat style skills for Hitok. Not if none of their team members lived to reach the compound. He’d overlooked the fact that rain forests were gloomy and dense with growth, and the ten-mile width of the island, just to his north, left room for someone to pass unnoticed.

****

One Ragnar had slipped past the Kobani team by chance, and Salmond was now on his way to the compound, secure in the knowledge of where his opponent was, and that there was no risk of accidentally encountering the only Drathor in the glade today. He could make good time. It seemed the rider had left himself foolishly exposed, up where he couldn’t be missed by a knife throw, or Salmond’s short spear, strapped to his back. The human would be at risk if he jumped to the ground from the back an animal that wanted to rip him to shreds and eat the scraps.

Salmond, now following the less demanding ground trails instead of running along path-vines, was alternating his left eye projection between two camera channels, suggested by his watchers. One camera was over the north gate, another on a pole at a Sweet tree grove, and so long as the Drathor stood upright, it and the human on the back of its neck were always in view. He had triangulated where the human and animal were, and he’d approach them quietly from behind, from downwind, because a Drathor had an excellent sense of smell. The ape was unaware that a Kobani was nearly as sensitive to odors, despite the smaller nose and fewer scent receptors. In this case, having to sneak up on the Drathor was a bit of good luck. Neither one would smell him as he approached. At least, this was his initial plan. Then Hitok delivered disastrous news.

“Salmond. I fear we cannot win even a single match of the eight we forced the humans into accepting. We’ve heard from, or seen, what happened when your three other teammates met individual humans in the forest. It was like with the team to the south. They died easily, even when the humans gave them some advantage. One of them never even drew a weapon, and deflected Balnag’s knife thrusts, with his bare hands. We could see it clearly on a camera image, and we believe the human deliberately staged the fight where we could see what happened.

“They are too fast, we have no chance to block them if they use their own weapons, and we can’t get past their blocks, or they twist out of the way of our attacks. They are possibly as strong as they have claimed to be. Balnag wasn’t killed by a blade. His chest was crushed inward with a fist blow over his heart, and then his was skull cracked by a hammer-like fist blow on the top of his head. I know this was done to mock my nickname, because that human then turned and looked directly at the camera.

“All seven of them are now traveling back to the compound, and I’m convinced they have found a way to intercept our camera images. The four to the north did not pause to look for you. I think they know you are moving towards the compound. Which means the one named Sarge will be expecting you, and he now appears able to direct the Drathor where he wishes. He will come at you with that animal.”

“Commander, that is not a weapon we gave him. It isn’t a fair test of his warrior ability.”

“Salmond, all participants were free to use whatever was available in the woods or the glade to their advantage. One of them, the leader called Thad Greeves, choked Hankal to death with a section of young path-vine that he cut. The one called Sarge is using a Drathor. I am sorry. I should have insisted on the use of modern weapons. A gun is an equalizer. Now you must face eight of them alone, and a Drathor that one of them commands. All Ragnar will honor your bravery.”

He would fight to the death, of course. As he’d volunteered to do. But the odds of eight to one against him and the use of the Drathor, changed the equation in Salmond’s mind. He changed his plan. He’d use something available at the center of the compound, which the humans had also had a chance to use, but did a poor search.

It was a way he could kill at least one of them, and neutralize the Drathor threat at the same time. He’d face the other seven inside the compound, in full view of all those cameras, and fight them to the death. One at a time, or all together.

Changing direction, he shifted to smaller game trails, where he could avoid intersections and Sweet tree groves that had pole cameras. He was well ahead of the other seven humans, and if the eighth continued to try to teach the Drathor new tricks, he could get inside the compound unnoticed, and into the Administrative building.

When he drew close to the compound, he saw that the careless humans had left the north facing gate ajar. His plan to scale the wall became one of slipping through the gate for a faster entry. If the humans were really watching the broadcast images, the motion following cameras over the gates would show him climbing the wall anyway.

He broke from cover at full speed, slipped through the gate, and then seemingly did something stupid. He pushed on one of the well-oiled massive doors, and pushed it all the way open. After that brief delay, he ran down the wide lanes between barracks, into the center clearing, and headed for the Administrative building. He assumed he’d have to break in, or use the rooftop emergency hatch, if he could climb to the roof. Surprisingly, the front door was shattered and open, a detail he’d not known about, because he’d been focused on running the path-vines when that had happened.

Now all he had to do was to open an unsecured safety locker and get what he came for. Messages from multiple Ragnar watchers vied for his attention. They informed him that the Drathor was being directed towards the compound. It’s rider certainly knew where he was.

No one knew what he was doing in the compound, since he’d not locked the gate to keep the Drathor outside. If the Ragnar observers didn’t know, then the humans wouldn’t know either. He sat on a bench inside the front office of the Admin building, out of view of cameras, facing the broken door. All he had to do now was wait for the Drathor and its rider.

****

“Come on, you big dumb ass! Follow your nose and eyes.” Sarge had projected both an image and a scent trail to the beast’s mind. It sure as Hell knew what its tormenter smelled like, and it should see him running towards the compound. It was also possible the visual trick had been used too many times, but the addition of his odor ought to spur it forward. He could always jump down and let it chase him for real, but that wouldn’t present the image of him in control that he wanted the Ragnar to see. However, the animal finally lowered its head, using its tail as balance, and started to lumber after the nice smelling treat it thought it saw. Sarge kept the inserted mental image just barely maintaining a gap, to keep the pursuit as fast as he could.

He assumed he’d have to leap off to climb the wall to enter the compound, but when Athena told him the closest gate to him was half open, he knew he could ride his way inside. Cool. Not that he knew exactly what he’d do with the H-Rex once he found the Ragnar. He intended to end this personally, so there’d be no question of who finished this farce.

The half open gate almost did what the Drathor, with its fist sized brain, hadn’t thought of when it had Sweet trees surrounding it. The gate was low, and Reynolds focused on not being scraped off the back of his galloping ride, as it ducked under the large cross beam. It lurched to the right to pass the still closed left side of the double gate, and the edge of the half opened right gate nearly pulled his rider off when it struck his right leg.

Sarge, grabbing hair with his left hand to prevent being dislodged, lost contact with the nerve sensitive membrane over the beast’s ear, and his continuous projection of the target the Drathor was chasing instantly faded. Fortunately, the odor of recent numerous Ragnar occupants quickly replaced that stimulus, and the open lane between close spaced buildings directed its momentum to the center of the compound.

When it reached the open assembly area at the center, the mixed and recent scents of humans and Ragnar nearly had it salivating, as it pivoted around, its black eyes peered down the four lanes that led to each gate, and it sought any sign of movement there or inside any of the armored windows. It was rewarded with movement at the dark opening at the front of the odd rock formation to its left. A furry representative of one of its usual tormenters on this island, stepped boldly into the light. Unlike those that had confronted it in the past, there were no high trees for it to scramble up to elude him. In fact, it stood there unmoving, and raised one of its front legs.

That was when it’s skin started to itch, before it began to burn. It grunted in pain, and took a step towards this new prey, but the burning increased, and its jaw muscles suddenly clenched painfully tight, grinding teeth together to strongly one broke and others chipped. The prey shifted its front leg down slightly and to the side, and abruptly the Drathor’s left leg spasmed so powerfully and painfully that it kicked downward with force, tipping the seven-ton carnivore to its right side, and unbalanced, it started a fall which even violent twitches of its head and tail couldn’t counter.

It hardly noticed the departure of the minor weight on its neck, as its rib cage painfully absorbed the impact, with both legs kicking wildly in agony, and the claws on its short arms clawed and tore at the burning flesh of its upper chest and neck. Its deep grunts had changed to a higher pitch, indicative of terror. Like any wild animal that lived surrounded by brush and forests, it feared fire, and it now felt as if it were on fire, and unable to flee.

Sarge had landed on his feet, of course, and was pissed off. In Fotrol he shouted. “Leave ole Brownie alone.” He’d considered calling him Spot earlier, but the lack of any such blemishes spoiled that cuddly pet name.

“Using a Debilitater is cheating anyway, you ape asshole.”

Salmond had a rebuttal prepared for that accusation. “You were permitted to use what you found here on the island, so am I. You even had a chance to find this pistol yourself when you broke into this building, but you humans were too dumb or too lazy to do a proper search.”

“Why would we search for a damned Debilitater in a camp that teaches basic survival skills? In a contest that claimed to be measuring our primitive skills against yours?”

“You found a Drathor to use to your advantage, and I skillfully found a weapon to drive away the Drathor. Which you foolishly permitted to enter the camp by leaving the gates open. Do you think this is the first Drathor that ever got through a gate? If they refuse to chase trainees back outside, we drive them out with pain.”

“That’s called a Drathor?” He looked at the panicked beast, now trying to use its head and tail as leverage, to roll its body over onto its belly, trying to get its legs under it again. It’s nerve endings still burned from the residual effects of the radiation’s stimulation, but it was regaining muscle control, now that the radiation was off.

As the beast struggled to stand, Salmond lifted the weapon as a precaution. It featured a solid concave dish the size of a hand palm, with a half-inch conical antenna in the center. The dish was to prevent back radiation from reaching the user, and to maintain a cone shaped beam, with enough power to be effective out to about the length of a Skytouch tree, and a bit wider than the trunk of one of those forest giants at maximum useful range. It wasn’t a powerful area weapon, and had a limited supply of power in its oversized gun butt battery pack. Salmond had a spare power pack if needed.

Seeing the ape’s action, Reynolds, warned him. “Let it go. It only wants to get away from here now.”

“This is my home world. What do you know about these creatures? I studied them when I was in training here when I was young. They will attack if given the chance.”

“I was in mental contact with it before I jumped off, as it fell over. It was terrified of being burned alive. That’s what that damned radiation does to nerves, you piece of shit. It thought its shaggy fur was on fire. You’re no better than the Thandol, who invented that filthy weapon. How about I take it away from you, shove it up your ass and pull the trigger, just for fun?”

Salmond shifted the aim a dozen feet to the right, to cover the Kobani, but he could easily shift back to the Drathor if it moved in the wrong direction. “I don’t intend to kill it. These are rare, protected, and valuable animals. Unlike you.”

It was only then that the Ragnar wondered how the Kobani was even on his feet. He’d rayed the Drathor right in the face, when it had turned towards him. He’d clearly seen the human’s legs showing around the sides of the beast’s neck, and his face was visible to the left side of the Drathor’s lowered head, because the human was leaning out to see Salmond, and had his left hand exposed, pressed to the side of that savage head.

He thought the Kobani had been within at least peripheral exposure of the beam. After the first Ragnar meeting with this species, at one of their new colony worlds, humans had proven as susceptible to the radiation as any race within the Empire. The Kobani, it had been discovered, were shown to be exceptionally sensitive to the radiation’s effects. It wasn’t known why they were so sensitive, but it was one reason the Ragnar weren’t overly concerned if they faced them in combat again on any of their inhabited worlds. Their entire population couldn’t all be shielded with their advanced body armor.

They would make them twist and dance like the bodies observed on the recordings made by a Strangler on Zanzibar 2. That raid was one all Ragoons had watched with amusement, and amazement, at the improbable gyrations performed by the helpless, supposedly superior warriors. Even after they were dead husks, reacting to the radiation.

Yet, this Kobani human, which Acting Force Commander Hitok had said was named Sarge, had just brazenly threatened him, in his own language, in full hearing and sight of his entire home world. He had to answer, and make this representative of a future subservient species learn his people’s place in the Empire, after they were annexed.

As the Drathor regained its feet, it was positioned to see the open gate where it had entered, at the end of the lane of structures it had passed. It pivoted on shaky legs to face back down that lane, its claws on the short arms drawing blood through its chest fur, as they pawed where the fire seemed to be burning hottest. Just as the human implied that he knew it wanted to flee and not attack, the animal sluggishly started moving towards the gate, passing between Salmond and the human. This was a perfect opportunity to hurry the beast along with a beam aimed at the end of its tail, which would increase its pace due to the fresh addition of pain.

It coincidentally would expose the Kobani to part of the cone of radiation on the opposite side of the Drathor’s tail. A convenient accident. Not an unpardonable error, because after all, there were seven more humans coming after him, a fate he would not survive. Therefore, this one enemy dying in a very painful manner by Debilitater ray wouldn’t make any difference to the outcome, and would generate a certain level of satisfaction in a large majority of observers. He couldn’t pretend to accidentally radiate them all, and still preserve his honor.

Salmond, setting the stage for his action, shouted, “Move faster, you stupid smelly hairball. I have a human to gut and behead before his friends arrive to help him.”

He raised the weapon and initially aimed at the creature’s muscled right flank, before seeming to think better of knocking it off its feet again, and shifted aim back to where the tail tapered to a wrist sized diameter. The one called Sarge was visible on the far side of the beast’s tail, as the trigger button was pressed, his eyes widening as he saw what was about to happen. He reached behind him for the handle of some weapon that Salmond hadn’t fully seen, strapped onto the outside of his small back pack. He was fast, but not compared to the velocity of the radiation unleashed his direction.

An incongruently high pitched screech came from the massive Drathor, as a deeper throaty yell came from the far smaller Kobani human. There were physical responses from both animals. The Drathor leaped ahead and reached its stride in several steps as it fled, whipping the tip of its burning tail.

The human’s yell cut off, but either he had launched himself forward before the beam robbed him of muscle control, or a leg spasm had done it for him. He hurtled over the Drathor’s tail tip as it flowed past him, but his arc wasn’t going to carry him but half the distance to Salmond before striking the ground.

The Ragnar released the trigger button and dropped the pistol from his right hand, and reached across his body to draw the long knife from the sheath at his left hip. He’d first gut him from crotch to sternum, and then grasp his overly short top fur with his left hand, to raise his head to expose the throat, and deliver a clean decapitating blow. He would look in the pain filled eyes of his victim, who would be fully aware that he was about to die. There would be at least one Ragnar victory today.

As the body was about to hit the ground, the head and neck turned downwards and hit the dirt first, causing the body to naturally curl behind them, and roll forward as the shoulders and back came down. Salmond rushed forward to be ready for the disemboweling slash as his opponent came to rest on his back, feet splayed towards his killer.

The limp body had more momentum than expected, because when the heels of his boots struck the ground, the paralyzed form lifted in a half tuck position, its right arm slinging in a swift forward arc, releasing a blurred and reflective metallic object.

The spinning object thudded heavily into Salmond’s sternum. Looking down in stunned surprise, the pain not yet registering, he saw the wide blade of a short-handled battle axe imbedded deep into his chest.

Sarge stepped close and grabbed the hand holding the long knife with his own right hand. Reaching up to grasp the taller ape’s top hair with his left, he looked in the ape’s shock filled eyes. “What were you going to do with this knife, after you had me paralyzed and helpless?” The image of the Ragnar’s intent was still clear in the Mind Tap image, Salmond’s offset heart having been missed by the ax’s deep bite.

When the ape tried to say something, blood and bubbles were all that passed its lips, the centrally located lung having been gashed open. However, his final thoughts were clear.

Speaking aloud, more for the for the audio pickup than for the dying Ragnar, Sarge said, “We’re immune to Debilitater rays now. Did you think we’d not do something about that? Just show up here on your doorstep, unprotected?”

Sensing the fading mind, and knowing what had been intended for him, Reynolds shook his head. “I don’t see a need to gut you, not with an axe in your chest, but you won’t need your head where you’re going, and I need to complete the final act you had planned for me.”

He plucked the long knife from the hand he’d been using for mental contact, and with his left hand holding the head up by its hair, an easy but powerful swing ended Salmond’s pain and suffering, which went far deeper than his physical wounds.

Holding the dripping head out, Sarge looked at the camera under the second-floor eave of the administrative building. “Your brave and loyal team of eight have paid the ultimate sacrifice for their race. Learn their lesson well, so they will not have died needlessly. We did not enjoy these acts of killing, but there was no easy way to prove to you how disastrous for your species it will be, if you join the Thandol in attacking the Federation.

“Because Kobani are also becoming more numerous in the forces of the Planetary Union, I don’t think they will be an easier target for Empire forces, and they might be less forgiving of transgressions against them. We Federation Kobani have a government with nonhuman citizens, who vote on and influence our war decisions, and those nonhuman leaders are less aggressive than are our human representatives. The PU is comprised entirely of humans, and humans are notoriously vindictive and unpredictable.

“Thad Greeves will arrive at this compound soon, and he was sent as our soldier-diplomat, not me. He just informed me there will be a final meeting with your two Sovereigns, and with you Commander Hitok, in the plaza.

“There’s no need to send a shuttle for us. We’ll join you there on our own when we call for our Scout. If the Thandol foolishly release Commander Thond alive, you will regain your most formidable adversary against the Thandol. Their naval forces are about to become weaker, and you already know they have useless ground forces.”

****

Hitok was in a foul mood. He’d selected six of his team personally, and knew them. Two others he knew of, and had accepted recommendations from his six selectees. It had all been done in a rush, and there had been no shortage of candidates, but now he felt that somehow, an unperceived selection bias on his part had placed his choices at a disadvantage, which had cost them their lives.

Their small ship, which they called a Scout, had abruptly lifted, and started flying in the direction of the central ridge above high City, and the island on the other side of the landmass. The Ravager crew had automatically locked on the craft in tracking mode, which resulted in the human ship activating stealth. That independent action was also grating on Hitok, but they’d just heard that the Kobani leader intended to have another meeting in the plaza.

Grudfad, who was reviewing the words spoken before their last champion died a gruesome death. “Commander, the one called Sarge told Salmond that he’d been in mental contact with the Drathor. He told him the beast thought it’s fur was on fire.”

“So? We know the rays cause that sensation.” Hitok suddenly actually parsed what he’d just been told.

“Braslat! He somehow frilled the beast, like a ripper did to us on Tanner’s World at the truce meeting. But how? Was a stealthed ripper over there with them? I’d not miss that unique scent if one were ever near me again.”

“Commander, what of his final words to Salmond, when he said, ‘I need to complete the final act you had planned for me.’ He knew what was intended.”

Hitok did a brief leg squat, in agreement. “He somehow knew Salmond had sworn to us that he would gut and behead the one called Sarge, before the other humans arrived. There was no time for even a stealthed ripper to have been the conduit for those thoughts, and our memory enhancer transmissions use unbreakable quantum keys. That human knew the thoughts of Salmond! Learned his thoughts when he was in physical contact. What else has this dangerous species learned from us that we did not wish them to know?””

“Look, Sire.” He pointed at a camera image. “The Scout has just appeared in the compound. They must have use their atmospheric Jump capability to arrive so fast.” A distant clap of thunder arrived, confirming they had vacated a Scout sized hole in the atmosphere over the central ridge, which had just slammed closed.

Within a few minutes, the two other groups of Kobani leaped to the tops of the compound wall, and from there ran along the roofs of the structures, easily leaping the gaps between buildings, to reach the central court yard in seconds, just as the Scout settled to the ground. Hitok and Grudfad left the Ravager for the plaza, as the human ship lifted from the island.

Hitok said, “They were right. Our team was never a real threat to them, and they knew we would refuse to accept their claims. I had better ask our Sovereigns to rejoin us, if they dare to attend another meeting. They had believed that my half legion of Ragoons by your ship were their protection. They must know that isn’t true now.”

They were speaking conversationally, standing in the plaza, out of hearing from the ten Ragoons next to Grudfad’s Ravager.

From a point nearby came, words in Fotrol. “I give you my word of honor, Commander, your Sovereigns are as safe as they have been all day.”

The two Ragnar whirled in the direction the words had arrived from, but saw only empty flagstones.

“If you will caution your Ragoons to hold their fire, I’ll switch off my stealth. We want to have a peaceful final meeting, just as we offered to do when we arrived, before you forced us to prove our capabilities.”

With a strained grimace, which was clearly not a smile, Hitok instructed his troopers to maintain their discipline, and warned them that at least one stealthed Kobani was with him and Grudfad.

“Very well. Reveal yourself.”

White, with black marking body armor rippled into view, several body lengths away. The alien, with its almost robotic looking face, proved not to have multiple blue glowing eyes as it first appeared. The helmet split at the sides, with a soft sigh of higher pressure air escaping, and the hands lifted it off, to reveal the slightly less alien human face and head inside.

The suit was a marvel of formfitting stealth technology, and Hitok already knew the blue glowing objects on the face were energy beam emitters. At least three types, but likely more, since there were five of them. He’d heard of red and green lasers, and invisible microwave or infrared beams, and surely the largest blue circle was for plasma bolts.

“Hello, Acting Force Commander Hitok, and Space Commander Grudfad. My name is Cal Branson. I was left here as security for our Scout ship. I mean no disrespect, but I will not offer you your traditional knuckle bump, or our traditional handshake. I suspect you don’t wish to have physical contact with any of us for now.

“Your suspicion is correct. We will remain apart. I didn’t scent a ripper’s presence at any time. Did you bring any with you?”

“If you don’t mind, Colonel Greeves will be here shortly, and he will answer that, and offer greater explanations of how we Kobani came to be as we are. I recommend you obtain refreshments, and something to sit on for you and your Sovereigns. The discussions may be lengthy, and out here in the open seems to be the safest place for us all.”

“Like your stealthed Scouts you have in orbit, can I assume you are not the only Kobani in armor here on the Plaza?”

“Sir, you saw how small the Scout is. There couldn’t be many of us carried inside one of them, and eight of my team went to your island.” Hitok surely suspected there were other armored Kobani around, but Fredrico was Cal’s only nearby backup. Although, Athena’s Scout was somewhere over the plaza again.

“Colonel Greeves will speak with you. He authorized me to reveal myself, when you seemed concerned for the safety of your Sovereigns. We were no threat to them before, and we will not be a threat to them now. We came here to talk. If talking doesn’t produce the desired results, we may later return to attack, but you will know it quickly enough when we do that. We prefer to keep the peace with your people, even though you have provoked us with attacks more than once.”

Hitok continued to press. “We will not have a final decision before Commander Thond returns, or is replaced as the Military Sovereign.”

“Sir, please continue this discussion with Colonel Greeves. They just Jumped to orbit, and will be here…,” There was a soft pop sound as a white Scout appeared twenty feet above the plaza, right where it had departed a few minutes earlier.

“He’s here now.” Branson concluded, with a grin.

The side of the ship irised open, and eight, slightly grubbier looking Kobani walked out onto the granite flagstones.

Hitok gestured towards the Ravager’s boarding ramp, as Ragnools marched out bearing chairs and tables, and trays of refreshments. “Our two Sovereigns will join us in a few moments. Will this discussion require much of their time, Colonel Greeves?”

“Not much of theirs, yours, or our time, Commander. I told you, I wasn’t authorized to negotiate any sort of diplomatic solution, or agreement. Nor am I qualified to do so.”

They let the Ragnar navy personnel set up the chairs and tables, and place trays of alien fruits and odd unidentifiable dishes out, with a very few obvious serving utensils. It looked like it was all “finger food,” since there were no personal knives, forks, or spoons. There were several tankards of beverages, and simple wide cups without handles.

“Two of these containers hold fruit juices, and one holds a fermented brew. Does your species consume alcohol, as do ours and many other species, for enjoyment? I think our sugars and proteins will be compatible for you, at least if those found on Tanners World were suitable for you Kobani.”

“Yes, we can consume what you do, in most cases. Because of our high metabolism, it is almost impossible for a Kobani to become incapacitated by alcohol, although a Normal human can do so quickly enough.”

There was that infuriatingly vague difference being referenced again. Hitok hoped that would be resolved now. He observed the Sovereigns, as they were escorted from the Tri-Branch Government Center.

Greeves added, “We’ve had two of your people as captives for some time, and learned their food tastes. With your permission, I would like to release them to your custody now. They are aboard one of our other Scouts. They didn’t know they were being released, or even where they were being taken. I see no reason not to free them. If anything, they will confirm some of what I will tell you about who we Kobani are.”

“I will accept their return, if you will have them brought down now.”

Thad called for the Scout with the prisoners, and it promptly popped into view above them, and set down next to Thad’s ship.

A bit put out at how fast the Kobani seemed to accomplish anything they did, Hitok hurriedly had four Ragoons, posted next to the Ravager, rush over to meet the dumbfounded, and overjoyed newly released Ragnar, and escort them past the approaching Sovereigns. They were cowed, and obviously frightened to find themselves at High City.

There was a cooler version of the initial greeting from the morning, and only Thad stepped forward to exchange words, and no fist bumps were offered. He cut right to the chase.

“You obviously saw what happened today, and what must be a painful result for you and your people. This contest was not what we wished to have happen, but it was forced upon us as a challenge that we needed to meet.

“Let me explain why you lost so badly, and who and what we Kobani are. We have more than technological advantages in ships, body armor, and weapons, we also have biological advantages that no other species we’ve heard about can match. Do you know what genetic modifications are?”

He received the expected blank looks.

“How about if we sit down and consume these refreshments, because the explanations will require some time, and a few demonstrations. We can always start a nice honorable war later, if you still think that’s wise.”

****

Their discussion was winding down. “Your supposition is correct, Commander. We Kobani do have that genetic adaptation from rippers as well. Only for us, we call it Mind Tap, not frilling, because we don’t have that frill of nerve sensitive tissue around our necks.”

Hitok was incredulous. “You have incorporated physical features from several other Koban species, many from those rippers, and yet you do not look like them? Why aren’t you blue?”

Thad huffed in Ragnar amusement, and explained. “I have no doubt that many of the creatures on this planet, yourselves included, share many identical genes, and yet you all look different externally. We modified our internal nervous system, bones, muscles, eyes, nose, and hearing. Yet, we look the same as other humans, and we can reproduce with them. The children will inherit some of our dominant genes. Any human of our various races can be modified to become a Kobani, and that is happening now to some citizens of the Planetary Union.”

Next, he corrected Hitok’s genetic accounting. “We have more genes than from just three Koban species. I’m not a genetic scientist, but there are five contributions from four Koban life forms, and one non-Koban gene that I can think of, and we have hundreds of older changes that were modifications of genes of our own species, or taken from creatures on our home world. We’re galactic mongrels, that’s for certain.

“The most recent adaptation, which you witnessed at work today, has made us immune to Debilitater radiation, and as you may have observed with Macy,” he pointed to their one female team member. “She risked allowing one of your fighters to try to cut, and ultimately to stab her, so she could try to convince her opponent to end a pointless contest.

“We have a layer of tough tissue under our surface skin, which shields us from the radiation spectrum of the Debilitaters, and which also happens to make us cut, scratch, and puncture resistant. You selected cutting and stabbing weapons for fighting us today that are the least effective against us. Except for being Debilitater safe, the new adaptation wasn’t needed. We didn’t have to allow your people even the opportunity to cut or stab us. You are much too weak, and far too slow to effectively threaten us that way. However, we knew that our claims of this would never convince you. I would have preferred that you to accept our words, and the demonstrations we offered, but you wouldn’t believe. We are not wanton killers, but you surely know now that we will kill when necessary.”

Civil Sovereign Dendor, looking at Grudfad, had been engaged in a memory enhancer conversation with the Space Fleet commander. He now posed a contrary position.

“The Empire’s greatest strength is in its naval forces, and your technological advantages there will likely be temporary. Our stealth systems, and especially our detection capability, will be improved quickly. Your new weapons have worked well against stationary targets at repair docks, and apparently at a secret Thandol naval base, which by your admission, was not prepared for an attack. That lack of preparedness will not be repeated by us, and I’m sure not by the Thandol. We can delay our fleet actions while we perform repairs, but we know the Thandol capability, and that of the other two security forces, but we do not fully know yours, and have never seen any fleet action by the Planetary Union. When you discover there are multiple fleets dividing your forces, and you must defend widely separated, and unknown targets, you will not be able to apply your physical strength, speed, and new weapons advantage in a concentrated manner. We also believe your weapons are new, because you did not use them previously. It takes time to produce and deploy completely new systems.

“If your fleets are decimated before we must fight you again, and your cities are leveled, the will of your people to resist will fade. It has happened many times against other foes of the Empire. We will hold back, for now. When Sovereign Thond returns, he may have other recommendations that we need to consider.”

Greeves stood up. “Sovereign Dendor, I told you and Commander Hitok that I am not empowered to negotiate, that I am a soldier-diplomat. I believe I have delivered our message. All you offer is a delay in the attack the Thandol have ordered you to make. It’s time for me and my Scouts to depart. We will report what transpired here, and I’ll await further instructions from my leaders before we leave this system.

“We observed that you have Stranglers loaned to you, some orbiting one of your moon bases, and others at repair docks. Those are not normal elements of a Ragnar fleet, and you have used those weapons against human worlds. As happened on Tanner’s World, it is possible that I will be ordered to eliminate those parts of the Thandol fleet. We are committed to weakening our mutual enemy. However, I will not act without warning you in advance.

“Despite our differences, and the misfortune your combat team met at our hands, I was honored to meet you. If circumstances someday permit, I would be pleased to fight on the same side with you. You have the heart of warriors, and fight bravely and with determination. I hope someday you shake off the yoke of the Thandol.”

With that, he and his team walked to their Scout, which spiraled open and deployed its ramp. Flickering into view, Fredrico stepped onto the ramp from the plaza, and turned to watch as his other nine crewmates approached.

Hitok huffed and pant hooted, as he pointed at the tenth Kobani. “I told you there must be more than one of them watching over their ship. Not even our sonic systems saw either one of those they left here. We must examine every sensor recording made today. No stealth can be entirely perfect, or those inside the suits would be blind to the outside world around them. If we understand how to detect their suits, we will understand stealthed ship detection.

“We also know how much mass these small ships represent, and we can work on the mass detectors we stole from the Thandol, to improve their sensitivity. We need to gain something from their visit.”

He offered a human style wave, in reply to one made by Greeves, as the ramp retracted and the curiously flowing material of the hull closed the outer hatch

The two ships promptly lifted, and another one that had been hovering over High City flickered into view. All three ships Jumped while within atmosphere with triple booms, at a considerable height above the city.

Hitok turned to Grudfad. “You heard his words, Space Force Commander. I caution you to evacuate any Stranglers we still have on loan from the Thandol.”

****

Still in the Ragnar system, Thad had largely finished his report. “Tet, Athena and our other Scouts have found some Thandol ships. There are at least twenty-three Stranglers in the system. They obviously had more of them than they took to Tanner’s World, or acquired more after their fleet returned. They know now we have personal defense against Debilitaters, or at least from the lower power level of a hand-held device.”

Mirikami reached a decision. “They also know it’s a new defense, and that only Kobani have that. We know that not all Kobani have it yet, but we soon all will. The PU citizens remain at risk, and their new Kobani. The Ragnar only agreed to delay attacking the Federation, and their Civil Sovereign only committed to that delay until Thond returns. That could be any time. They didn’t admit to being ordered to attack any colony of ours, although we believe the Thandol may know where the Prada home world is now. If not the Ragnar, then one of the other two forces will go there. I think they need one more demonstration, Thad. But warn them first, so they can evacuate the targets.”

Anticipating, he asked, “Hit the Stranglers, right?”

“Absolutely! I don’t want them repairable, or even used for parts. Tell them they have the equivalent of a half hour to evacuate the ships. If they’re at docks, use head sized event horizons to repeatedly perforate them. I want to minimize collateral damage, yet show them how it’s impossible to block that weapon. Report the results to me, and try to prevent any Stranglers from fleeing.”

“You got it, Sir.”

Thad passed the order to all ten Scouts, some of which had spread to the other planets and moons in their search for Ragnar installations in the home system of Tantor. As soon as they were in position, he made another broadcast to the Ragnar, explaining what was about to happen.

“Acting Force Commander Hitok, I have received new orders. Because your government refused to make a firm commitment to not attack either the Federation, or the Planetary Union, and offered only a delay, we intend to eliminate as many Thandol built ships as we can, especially the weapon that offers the greatest threat to civilian populations. Stranglers were never going to be used in the first phase of naval attacks, but we intend to make certain they are not used at all. You must evacuate crews from every Strangler in this system. If any are docked at an orbital station, we will try to minimize collateral damage. If you set them adrift, such damage will be prevented. If we detect any of them powering up for a possible Jump, they will be destroyed instantly, wherever they are.” He told them how long they had to evacuate.

Within minutes, Grudfad’s voice, transmitting unencrypted, was heard in a general broadcast. Stranglers were to be evacuated, and set adrift. He even included ships based around moons at some of their outer planets. Because, of the lag time of the transmission reaching those planets, Greeves told those Scouts to delay their attacks by the appropriate time after Grudfad’s radio messaged arrived. Those Stranglers were destroyed as much as an hour later.

When the warning time had expired, Stranglers that had drifted completely clear of docks and other ships, simply crumpled in upon themselves, as massive black hoes formed at their centers. They simply vanished from this Universe, as the event horizons were provided a rotation into Tachyon Space, to avoid the hazards of drifting small black holes being left behind.

Six Stranglers, not cast adrift, resembled Swiss cheese afterwards, where at least a hundred passages of foot diameter black holes had repeatedly bored through them. They all spewed plasma when any of their active fusion generators were partially consumed. These ships had remained docked, and having them completely drawn into a larger event horizon could have pulled in the docking stations where they were attached, depressurizing occupied repair docks or orbital stations. That smaller size of event horizon was chosen because if it did puncture the bulkhead of a dock or another ship, the built-in auto-sealing systems could seal off the venting atmosphere.

Thad contacted Mirikami an hour and a half later. “Sir, all the Stranglers we found, twenty-three of them, are now either particles in Tachyon Space, or useless scrap. My Scout crews gained experience using black holes, and the AI’s managed to maneuver them accurately, and we limited damage to other ships and docks. I’m certain they know we could have seriously damaged their entire fleet before they managed to Jump many of them out of the system. If there’s a defense against these black holes, I don’t know what it is.”

“I don’t know either, Thad, but there is always a defense from any new weapon. Case in point. Just heard today that the PU sent twenty Scouts to Rogue 1, which apparently was abandoned after our raid on Rogue 2. However, thirty Smashers were posted nearby, having set an ambush, and were waiting for an attack from us. Due to PU inexperience avoiding Thandol detection, they all Jumped as a single compact group. The concentrated mass and simultaneous arrival negated a stealthy arrival. A cloud of Decoherence bombs hit them, centered on their exit coordinates. They lost eleven ships in the first second. To their credit, the other nine Scouts promptly spread out and killed eight Smashers before the Thandol fled.

“Then the PU force followed them to their new base, and devastated the entire complex without another Scout being lost. Although, when attacking a sizable moon base, they encountered a problem with firing black holes into a deeper gravity well. It doesn’t work. The Trap fields release them before reaching the targets.

“I’m waiting for an explanation from Max Born, about that, but it has me worried. Not just about how much a gravity well limits our black hole projectors, because they still used gravity rods to take out surface targets. But we clearly don’t understand enough about our newest weapon, and the Thandol certainly will have noticed it couldn’t hit that moon. They didn’t build a vast and old Empire by being stupid.”

Chapter 5: Finth Team

Carol disconnected from her Comtap link with Mirikami, then group linked to the other nine Scout captains, of the ten Scouts in her small command. They were already inside the Empire’s Security Sector 2, and only a couple of hours from arrival in the Home Den system, as it was called by the Finth.

“People, Captain Mirikami just relayed Thad Greeves report of his group’s meeting with the Ragnar. The apes were less than enthusiastic with our proposals, to say the least. Thad’s Scout crew found themselves drawn into a death match demonstration of our basic combat skills, compared to that of the best fighters the Ragnar have. Only eight of his crew was involved with the actual fighting, because Thad kept his other ships stealthed, and two of his own crew in armor and stealthed. It resulted in eight dead Ragnar, and no losses by our side.

“Tet left it up to me to decide how we’ll present ourselves to the Finth, and perhaps save some time by showing them who and what we are at the very outset. Unlike the Ragnar, they’ve never faced us in space or on the ground, and they’ll surely reject anything we tell them, or any claim we make. Unlike Thad’s group, we have ten rippers with us, so they may have some ideas to offer. The Finth are supposed to be pure carnivores, and love to hunt. Rippers might have a better understanding of them than we will. I’m looking for comments from you Scout captains, and you should talk it over with your teams and get back to me when I call back.”

As with Greeves’ Scouts, they had ten crew per ship, nine Kobani and one ripper. Even with their stealth, and the new gravity projector weapons, ten small ships still seemed like an implausibly weak force against potentially three thousand enemy vessels, consisting largely of light to heavy cruisers. Yet, Scouts had become a proven and significant force, capable of executing devastating attacks on far greater numbers of Thandol and Ragnar naval forces.

There was an underlying assumption there would be a substantial number of warships in the Finth home system. The goal, as with the Ragnar, was to leave the security forces intact, if possible, to wage war on the Thandol if they could be turned. If not, to leave them too crippled to mount major attacks on worlds in Federation or Human Space.

Mirikami had cautioned her about the near disaster experienced by the twenty PU Scouts sent against Rogue 1. She informed him her squadron was already widely dispersed in space, and promised to conduct a reconnaissance before revealing their presence to the Finth.

This species was completely new to them, and all they had learned about them came second hand, mostly from the two Thandol prisoners, and less so from the former low ranking Ragnar prisoners. The Hothor, living in Security Sector one, had seen Finth at Wendal, and at former Thandol capitols of now dead emperors, but they had never interacted with that species or been formally introduced. The Thandol didn’t encourage such meetings between subservient species, since that might promote collaboration.

The Thandol images of the Finth belied their less than impressive origins, evolving from a wolverine-like carnivore, once resembling a slender small bear, and now were a large bipedal wolf-faced species. The first thing residents of Koban and Haven stated, when shown just the facial images of the Finth, pulled from memcaches of the two Thandol prisoners, was “werewolves.”

Not the lycanthropic humans of Earth mythology. They meant the large, four-legged wolf-analogue packs native to Haven. The hairy head crest, exposed fangs, pointed ears, extended muzzles with exposed teeth, and the frightening yellow eyes were a close match for the slightly smaller Haven predators. Factor in the over two-meter average height, heavy shoulder muscles, powerful arms, and long legs evolved for running down fleet prey, and you had an intimidating intelligent predator. One that was physically capable of eating an opponent, and sometimes willing to demonstrate precisely that. They were happy to induce fear in the subservient species they dominated and abused, on behalf of the Thandol. They actively cultivated this image, which made their task of tax collections easier, and kept the weaker species in line.

Their slightly oily fur, variously shaded red, brown, black, or a rare white or beige, was hydrophobic, keeping them dry in rain, and frost resistant on their preferred cool worlds, orbiting smaller red stars. Like alien mustelids of similar animals on other worlds, they had scent glands for marking their territory, and for sexual signaling between the males and their equally fierce looking females. The females were nearly the same size as the males, and they were considered the better and smarter hunters, less instinct driven, more thoughtful.

The Thandol, true to their male dominated culture and biases, refused to deal with the Finth females, but, as they did with the Ragnar, they tolerated the alien females in their combat packs. Accepting taxes, extracted from a subservient species even if collected by females, wasn’t cause for concern by the greedy despotic rulers.

When the squadron made its exit in the Finth home system, they divided into two five ship units as decided enroute, with five Scouts widely distributed around Home Den, and the other five around New Den, the second occupied planet of the system, which the Finth had made more habitable, over millennia.

There was no sign they had been seen, and no sudden burst of communications. As agreed, they started passive reconnaissance of both inhabited planets, and three moons.

A cycle and a half later, they had an overview of the Finth’s home system, and many of their military resources. Or rather, the forces they had facilities for, but which wasn’t there.

Sergey spoke first. “The second planet, New Den, even after they terraformed it, isn’t the most habitable planet I’ve heard about. Technically, I supposed the term shouldn’t be terraformed, perhaps it would be called denaformed. I think they wanted to make it like Home Den, but it’s not a terrific job. Not half as good as Earth did with Mars. It’s so close to their red sun, on the inner edge of the habitable zone, it must be too hot for their comfort. I mean, Home Den is on the outer edge of the habitable zone, and the Finth are adapted for the colder climate.” He shrugged.

“Anyway, that may be why they turned it into a military-industrial complex. The planet is closer to an asteroid belt, located between it and Home Den, and they moved twenty-six metal rich rocks into wide orbits around New Den. Even its original moon has been extensively mined and tunneled.”

Carol made an obvious assumption. A wrong one. “That must be where they have the bulk of their fleet. There’s only one ship yard on Home Den, and it appears dedicated to building commercial shipping. The four big orbital stations here have only a few handfuls of warships docked at them. Most of those are the damned Thandol built Stranglers.”

“Nope. Afraid not Carol. There were less than a hundred ships on or around New Den. Seventy-eight were their Stalker troopships, a few Carnivore class light cruisers that are undergoing weapon upgrades or replacements, and six more Stranglers. There is only one Eater class heavy cruiser, which appeared to have undergone a serious bow collision and is being rebuilt. There were eight small carriers, for which we don’t know the ship class name, and they have a combined twenty-four Predators, Jump capable fighter bombers, each with room for three Finth crew. Their noses are protruding from open docking stations, ready for quick launches.

“To me, everything over here at New Den looks half shutdown. There are too many workers servicing the number of repair jobs currently underway, and they don’t have enough to do. If their warships aren’t on Home Den, or at those orbital stations, are there any big moon bases over there, Carol?”

That prompted Jason Seiko to contribute his report. “I checked the two moons of Home Den, and there are bases on both, and as I told Carol, there are over a dozen large inhabited domes with civil traffic operating between them and the planet, and a lot of service and maintenance ships on the tarmacs, and a few older ships undergoing salvage. There are so many maintenance ships that it looks like they normally service a sizable fleet. Like you suggested, the bulk of their fleet may have left here recently.”

There was a question from another Scout captain. “What if much of their fleet is based around Den 3 and Den 4? We could go after those, if it comes to a fight.” The Finth apparently weren’t keen on flowery names for colonies.

Fred Saber had asked that question. This was his first mission since the attack on the repair docks at Meglor, and his left leg and elbow were now fully regrown, after months spent in a med lab.

Carol summed up the frustration they felt. “If we can’t convince the Finth leadership to accept our proposal, to not attack the Federation in exchange for our weakening the Thandol navy, they certainly won’t join a revolt. If they refuse to revolt or stand down, no matter what we do to the Thandol, we want to damage their fleet immediately. Only it isn’t here.

“After we talk to them, and show what we ourselves can do, and what our Scouts and advanced weapons will do, they could use long-range tachyon communications to order any parts of their fleet to scatter, or to go on the attack. Shit!”

Her new husband, Sergey, wanted to soften what she apparently saw as a failed mission before they even started. This was the first mission she’d been asked to lead. “Carol, President MacDougal, Tet, and Maggi, were committed to the Federation holding discussions with the Thandol security forces first. They always knew the Finth might pretend to go along, then after we leave, attack us anyway and warn the Thandol.

“They didn’t know if any of the security forces would cooperate with us. Hating the Thandol may not be enough motivation to revolt. Their self-interest will dictate what they do, and they’ve had thousands of years of examples of what the Thandol can and will do to their opponents. We can only do what we were sent here to do. Demonstrate our capabilities, offer them our deal, and punish them if they reject us outright.”

Sabre added his opinion. “We were told our mission is to act as soldier-diplomats, not negotiate a diplomatic solution. At least we should be able to discover what they really think. Aside from our Mind Taps, we did bring rippers, who tend to get the truth out of any species they frill.”

“That’s true,” She agreed. We can always do what Thad’s squadron did, destroy all the Stranglers in this system as a demonstration of our surgical strike capability. I’m sure they were told to hold them in reserve, for later invasion landings. They couldn’t contribute to an orbital assault if that was their attack orders. We heard the Emperor had ordered the security forces to execute hit-and-run space bombardments for their first operations.”

Muriel Seong, another of Carol’s Scout captains, and on her first mission, tentatively joined the discussion, with a stunningly obvious question. “None of their main fleet elements are here, and I don’t suppose they’d base all of them at their two other colony systems. Do you think the fleet already left for an attack?”

It cleared Carol’s self-doubt and procrastination. “Damn good question, Muriel.”

She made up her mind. “We need to go down now, no advanced request for a meeting, or waiting around in orbit for their answer. They don’t have much in the way of warships in the system here that can attack us, and I’ll leave two Scouts in orbit to watch over us. They’ll be hesitant to go after us from space anyway, because I’m going to put our butts down inside their damned military heart, announce who we are, and force them to talk to us.”

She thought of additional details, taking a full Kobani mental second, more than enough time for the few forces she had.

“Eight of us will pop out over Pack Central, their military government’s capitol city. They have a huge six-sided military headquarters structure called Pack Command, which serves as both their military and government center. That has a huge central court yard, filled with some sort of dense garden. The landers will be my ship, Medlov, Sabre, and Seiko. The other four Scout captains will be Filho, Sandoval, Zafar, and Huang, and you will simultaneously arrive with us, but you will remain stealthed and airborne over the headquarters building. That building houses their entire government, their military command and civil government, with all their leaders and subordinates. From space, they won’t just blast away at us at its center.

“Seong, you and Cardoza will hold positions at one hundred and at five hundred miles respectively, over the city of Pack Central. We’ll stay linked on this common Comtap channel, but everyone stays quiet unless you have something important to communicate. If you have anything intended for a specific person, open a private link to them, keeping the common channel chatter to a minimum.”

Next, she addressed the convoluted communications they’d be forced to use. “Just like when we first met the Ragnar, we’ll have to speak to them using the simplified Thandol vocabulary for subservient species, translated from Standard. At least until we acquire or build a data base of the Finth’s language. If they already have a translation between Fotrol, the Ragnar language, and their own, our AI’s can work on a translation between Standard and Slithan. Assuming the word the Thandol use is the proper name for what the Finth speak.

“For all we know, the Thandol word might mean shit-speak. Slithan has a lot of deep sounding sibilants, and the samples we found recorded in the Thandol memcaches made them sound like a pack of baritone snakes ready to strike. They are said to speak in aggressive tones, using harsh and threatening words. Seems to be a common trait of dominant species, such as the Krall, Ragnar, and now the Finth. Not that the Thandol are very polite.”

She sent them a grinning mental image. “If they get too frigging belligerent with us, we’ll just knock some of their damned teeth out.” Showing how polite and courteous she expected to be with them herself.

It only took a couple of minutes for the Scouts, spread out at New Den and the three moons, to gather over Home Den, above Pack Central.

“Of the four Scouts that land, one crewman stays inside each, we all stay in armor, rippers excluded of course. The rest will exit, three from each crew stays stealthed even if the rest go visible, and I’ll broadcast on the standard Thandol hailing frequency, which Maggi pulled from our two Thandol prisoners. Don’t make an offensive move unless they do, but we aren’t here to be passive. If they shoot, we shoot back. Don’t kill the shooter unless you have no option. Try invisible microwave or infrared before a laser, and use plasma bolts as a last resort.

“We now know the Scouts can’t use gravity guns this deep in the well. But stealthed, our four covering ships can launch missiles, and fire lasers at any threat. The Finth will likely try to talk, at least at first. The four rippers of the landing parties should get to cover before any possible shooting starts. We’ll make this up as we go. We Jump in one minute.”

****

The Pack Leader of the current Alpha clan, Fissloss Slassler, was looking at the near cloudless orange sky out of the broad windows of the Office of the Dominant One, located along the northern wall, looking out above the great court yard of Pack Command, on the prestigious top floor of the fifty-story edifice. Then down at the deep red of the thick jungle and forest maintained in the vast courtyard below, which was used as a hunting preserve for Finth with moderate to high rank, or who paid a high fee.

He was angry, and lamenting the demands of leadership, which by tradition kept him at Home Den, precisely when the fleet had its first serious foe to fight in living memory, having departed last night.

The bright morning was of little comfort, and forced to stay home with him were the Beta, Gamma, and Delta Hunters of his own Alpha clan. They too were restricted from leaving Home Den, any time the Thandol ordered most of the Finth fleet into service.

The Hunters of the Forests, the millions of Finth ground troops, also remained on Home Den and New Den this time, because this was a fleet action, and Sky Hunters would be the first to taste the blood of a new enemy of the Empire. Those that stayed behind were promised they would get to fight later, when the invasions began, and large parts of the fleet would then remain in the home system for its protection.

The Alpha pack leaders were kept home on a pointless technicality, based on an ancient betrayal, to defend against past treachery by the Thandol. Something that was exceptionally unlikely against any security force during a new period of expansion, as announced by the Emperor.

Home Den had once been attacked on the orders of a paranoid new Emperor, who felt offended by aggressive remarks heard from a long-ago Alpha Pack Leader, while he was in the new Emperor’s presence. It was merely the normal manner of speech of a Finth leader, and the inexperienced Emperor, never having meet with a Finth Dominant One, took offense. He ordered the Finth Fleet to conduct an operation many days away from home, and then sent in a massive Thandol fleet to punish the population of the Finth home system, to teach them obedience and respect.

A diplomatic protocol was later established by the frugal and cautious Thandol, to protect the Finth from such an inexperienced and emotional Emperor. But that came only after a bloody and costly revolt, which eventually led to the defeat of the Finth and their fleet, but there also were serious losses by the Thandol. A final and expensive victory was delivered by the huge Thandol navy, who wielded their massive number of ships and advanced weapons against their outraged security force.

Despite the new diplomatic protocol offered by the Thandol, to avoid such a future misunderstanding, and the fatal termination of a reckless and inept Emperor and his High Command supporters, the Finth nevertheless took their own protective measures. Never again would the Finth allow the four top Pack Leaders, of whichever clan was the current Alpha pack, to leave Home Den totally exposed to the mercies of an unpredictable Thandol Emperor.

After enough centuries, a degree of trust was restored, with the Thandol actively working to avoid the sort of destruction that another careless imperial betrayal could cause them. This time, nearly the entire Finth fleet was deployed, with the promise of a share of the taxes to be collected from the annexed new species. The difference now was that the Thandol needed all their security forces to fight for the Empire, so that a betrayal of any of them clearly was not in the Emperor’s best interests.

Regardless, the Finth leaders of the current Alpha clan, the Stalkers of Sissbalt, were forced to remain at home by law, to defend Home Den, while their rival clan leaders flew off to war with nearly every ship that could defend their home. The other three major clans would naturally use victory in new battles to increase their own claims for future dominance in Finth culture, perhaps enough for one of them to be elected the new Alpha clan.

Alpha Leader Slassler had tired of arguing the issue with the Pack Arbitrators, the multipack governing body that kept the peace between the four major pack affiliations, where the Stalkers of Sissbalt held only a quarter of the votes, and any other votes they could negotiate to receive from lesser packs, for retaining their position as the Alpha clan.

Slassler was disposed to use his personal funds to buy a large prey animal to hunt for himself, to ease his tensions. Or even to use Alpha clan funds and his rank to obtain two or more criminals of some subservient species, and hold a group hunt with his pack mates, down there in the dark red jungle, which filled the huge courtyard of the Pack Command structure.

He knew his three subordinates were as frustrated as he felt, and in a killing mood. It was doubtful there were any suitably combative prisoners available in custody. Most of the Empire’s population was called subservient species for a reason, and few Ragnar or Thack Delos criminals and smugglers, who risked entering Security Sector two, let themselves be captured alive.

His hateful, violent mood, was about to be granted an outlet.

****

Carol was having second thoughts about her choice of where to land. “What the Hell? The red garden I though was in the center of their huge government building, is a freaking jungle.”

Sergey, on the open link, had a suggestion. “We can spread out and land on the larger paths, or at the open edges near the walls.”

“That would place us up to three miles apart in this mess. Not good for mutual support, and the paths would lead them right to our ships, even if we need to go back to stealth. Let’s pick low spots in the undergrowth between the taller trees, because that gives the rippers better cover. Four teal tigers and red foliage doesn’t make for seamless blending into the background.”

“We won’t look blue for long,” Kally assured her. “We’ll shred fleshy leaves and roll in the juices. It won’t be perfect, but I see many spots of colors in the flowers down there, and some are blue and purple. Send your message to the Finth while we slip into the brush.”

The four Scouts shifted hull patterns to mottled red colors to better blend in, and sank below the treetops and midlevel brush. Some of the limbs, pushed aside by the rounded shapes of the Scouts, slid back over them, to make them difficult to see, even without stealth. The hatches spiraled open, without extending a ramp, and allowed the four rippers to exit.

Kally, Kopper, Kandy, and Konar slipped separately into the jungle, relishing the intensely invigorating scents of strange plants and air, and surprisingly, there was the smell of quite a few different animals, and an unpleasant and pervasive background reek was in the air.

Their vision, and that of the Kobani who shared the same genetics, extended into the infrared, and many of the plants had vibrant glows in the light of the red-orange sun, visible above them in a pink-to-orange and partly cloudy sky, in what was still morning here. They stayed linked by individual Comtap channels, but spread out to explore and share images and scents, ready to report what they found to each other and their human comrades.

Carol used what appeared to be a public use air traffic control frequency, and two other frequencies the AI had detected from frequent transmissions coming from antennas on the roof of the immense hexagon shaped government building. She had the AI transmit her message in the simplified version of Thandol. The other aliens they’d met in the Empire, at least those that dealt personally and directly with the overlords, understood that sort of patois of simplified trumpeting and bugling, which the Thandol spoke to subservient peoples.

“Hello, from the Galactic Federation. The four small ships that have landed in the central area of your six-sided military and government building, carry a delegation of Federation citizens, and we are one of the multiple similar races of humanity. Our race is called Kobani, and we live on a world with sixty percent higher gravity than here at Home Den, and we defeated the Krall in roughly twenty orbits of your world around your star. The Krall was the species the Thandol feared, and avoided, for over twenty thousand orbits.

“Do not underestimate our capabilities. The Thandol intend to wage war with us, to send your forces to fight first, and suffer the losses they fear for themselves. Your fleet may already have departed to attack our worlds.

“The Federation has technology, such as these ships that appeared suddenly, deep in your atmosphere via a direct Jump from orbit. A feat you and the Thandol cannot match. We have weapons and other technology you and they are not prepared for, and we intend to severely weaken the Thandol fleets. This reduction in their forces started when we destroyed two Thandol fleets at hidden bases, in Security Sectors one and two. Their weakening will be to your advantage because you will less monitored. Even if you do not chose to act against them, there is no need for your fleet to suffer the same level of destruction. We came to talk, but we will fight if you refuse to speak with us.

“We Kobani are a species like no other you or the Thandol have met. Meet with us, and we will demonstrate, peacefully, what the Ragnar have already learned through combat losses to us.

“We will wait here in this red jungle for your reply, but only for a part of one cycle of your world. We will demonstrate our ability to you before we leave, either peacefully, or not. The decision is yours. We are monitoring these same frequencies.”

She ended the transmission, and on the group Comtap link said, “Watch for movements, since we can’t understand their language even if they don’t use encryption. All we’ll know is what they do visually, if they don’t call back using Thandol trumpet-talk.

“You four cats, and any of our people that go into the jungle, be prepared for a quick retreat to the Scouts if they try to bomb us instead of talking. In that case, we go out stealthed, and Jump from where we are with the resultant thunder. Then I’ll try to talk sense to them one more time from orbit, and if they don’t cooperate, then we turn every space dock and warship they have in the entire system into junk.”

“That’s my gal.” Sergey complemented his new bride. And suffered the consequences.

“That wasn’t operationally necessary. Please keep the personal chatter down so mission critical communications can be heard clearly.” Ouch.

In a fast, private link, she added “Sergey, I told the others not to do that. This is the first mission I’ve led. Thanks, love, but don’t make me look like a girlfriend.”

“Sorry, Hon. I liked the kick-ass attitude. We all do.”

“Well, let’s see if they try to knock the chip off our shoulder.”

Didn’t take long.

****

Slassler was startled when the four red, elongated and rounded ships, much larger than shuttlecraft, suddenly appeared above the Pack Command’s hunting preserve. The pops of their emergence could be heard even through the armored window of his office. He was in the section of the huge building reserved for, and designed to protect the Dominate One from assassination attempts. The Alpha Pack Leader reacted as did his three subordinates. All four drew a pistol, either a laser or plasma bolt variety, and ducked behind the heavy metal furniture, prepared for the windows to splinter inward in jagged shards.

His Beta, Shirhoss Bisstor, had risen to his level of dominance as a high fleet officer in the Sky Hunters, and knew every warship type any species had ever used in the Empire, back to when they were violently annexed.

“Alien ships.” He snarled, then instantly clarified, since that was obvious to everyone. “Non-empire origin.” The implication of that last statement, combined with the newly declared war on a stellar association comprised of multiple species, was clear. These must be Federation warships. Like the Thandol, they didn’t yet know of the existence of the Planetary Union.

Instead of firing at the inner walls of Pack Command, as expected, the four oblong ships settled quickly into the dense foliage, with some shifting of position to find landing places between trees. They quickly descended into the dense jungle cover, and vanished from view. It was puzzling. If this wasn’t an attempt to kill the Finth leadership, it was a ridiculously small force to mount an effort to capture the huge, and well-staffed, government and military center. What were they after?

The AI in the communications center swiftly provided the answer. At least what these aliens claimed to be the answer. The Thandol words were understandable, but the true meaning of what they said was incomprehensible to a Finth.

The barely known Federation had decided to send a delegation to talk to them? Arriving brazenly uninvited, settling in the heart of the largest collection of domination seeking Finth, the best hunters derived from their entire four planets of population? Were they insane, or suicidal?

There was no way the Alpha Pack Leader could merely talk with them after this affront to his Dominance. He wouldn’t even survive to retain his position as leader of his own clan, the Stalkers of Sissbalt. Even if his Beta, Gamma, and Delta leaders lost their minds and courage, to foolishly support him in conducting talks with an enemy under these circumstances, all their torn bodies, throats ripped out, would be used to feed the predators in the hunting preserve. Slassler himself would also be consumed, but by the leaders of whichever clan managed to kill him, which could even be members of his own clan.

Even before the transmission ended, Slassler and his closest aides were rushing to the drop tube at the center of his office complex. First stop, the armory at the first subbasement level.

Using the same mental enhancement technology that the Ragnar used, they activated the encrypted communications capability of their memory enhancers. That technology had originally been provided to them by the Thandol, when they accepted their roles as security forces for the Empire. The Thandol had in turn stolen the basic concept from the bodies of dead Olt’kitapi, but were unable to master the advanced technology that furnished a link to tachyon space, to obtain instant and infinite range direct communications.

Slassler was issuing orders through the Pack Command communications AI. “Hunting parties currently in the reserve are to withdraw immediately, by order of Alpha Leader. Small Federation ships have landed there without authorization, and are to be avoided. The reserve is closed for recreation. A hunt will be conducted by selected and armed Alpha pack representatives. When the hunt commences, any unauthorized clan members still inside the reserve will become prey. Obey me!”

His three subordinates were also busy. One calling ahead to alert the armory, another was selecting Finth from the elite chapter of the Hunters of the Forests stationed here, to gear up for the hunt, and the last was notifying the Sky Hunter ships still at home to go on the alert, to guard the space over the city of Pack Central, and scan for alien activity around the Pack Command structure. They were ordered to shoot down any unknown alien ships identified or attempting a liftoff. The spaceport was closed, to avoid “unfortunate accidents,” if a commercial ship of a subordinate species was ready to land or depart.

The enemy had sneaked in, but foolishly, just offered to talk. They weren’t getting out so easy, except as captives or corpses.

****

Within minutes, Kally had found several plants with fleshy leaves, succulents that contained red tinted moisture, that when mixed with the shredded outer material was like a sticky gel that adhered to her teal colored fur when she rolled in the mess. She found other broader, dryer leaves, in different shades of red and orange, which stuck to the gel. It was gross, smelly, and would be Hell to clean from her fur, but she soon blended relatively well into the reddish hues of the dense local foliage. She shared her finds with the other three rippers, who had found similar plants. Kopper shared an image of a common and fragrant yellow flower, which had masked his own distinctive scent when crushed and added to the concoction.

They had quickly encountered multiple small to midsized creatures, most were prey type animals, and two were predators of the same prey. Wary of possible food allergens, or toxins, none of them elected to enjoy more than a simple pounce, and test frilled the frightened animals they briefly captured. They didn’t display a true awareness, any more than did most prey animals of Koban, but they obtained images of the different predators these animals most feared.

Some images were of obvious types of four legged predators, all considerably smaller than a ripper, but one they feared most, was what seemed to be a large upright biped with big jaws, that could convert to use a four-limbed loping run when in close pursuit. Those creatures, obviously the Finth, appeared to be twice the body mass of a human male, and were colored in fur shades that ranged from the ubiquitous mottled red, or brown shades, to solid black, and even a few that were a creme white shade.

Konar, who finished frilling a large dog sized prey animal, said, “I think the Finth hunt this prey frequently. Many of them we’ve shared images from have memories of living in regions quite different from this thick jungle. I believe they were placed here by the Finth, to be hunted.”

Kandy agreed. “There are too many here for us to accidentally find so many animals so quickly. I think the Finth must stock this enclosed area with prey, and they must hunt here frequently. That would explain why the lower leaves have not been seriously eaten away, reducing the ground cover. There must be much hunting here to thin out this many leaf eaters so quickly.”

“I think you are probably right,” agreed Kally. “Can each of you detect that faint unpleasant animal odor drifting in the air? It arrives to me on every breeze.”

They all mentally shared their scent impressions, which revealed that the indicated odor was considerably more intense for one of them.

Kally, the senior pride ripper of the group, assigned a task to the male that appeared to be closest to the stronger source. “Kopper, stalk the scent near you. It could be from a Finth, and we need to frill it for information.”

Carol, monitoring the link, warned, “Kopper, it may be armed.”

He had a typical male ripper reply. “So were the Krall my grandfather stalked. They were faster than these Finth, and he killed them easy enough.”

Most of the Kobani in each of the Scouts had also deployed into the jungle, using armored stealth rather than camouflage. Only one Kobani stayed with each ship, to guide their AIs in decision making, and to monitor sensors reports for details that could escape the notice of a computer intelligence.

Despite the ripper’s confidence, Carol sent a stealthed Kobani as backup for Kopper. That would be someone from the same Scout. “Jason, send one of your people as backup. With stealth, they can move faster on the path. I doubt anyone can catch up before he reaches that Finth.”

“I’m already doing that myself. I left Paulo on the Scout.” He was running on a path that he hoped led to the same trail the ripper was following.

Kopper, slinking through the underbrush, and avoiding noise, stayed off a trail, which although it looked natural and winding, was covered in an artificial surface that only resembled dirt. Even a mottled large red tiger would sort of stand out, if seen on that open path.

His hearing quickly picked up the sounds of multiple feet ahead, and low sounds that had to be soft communications. There were a lot of sibilants, and the words seemed to run together, but the speakers appeared to be in a hurry. They were moving quickly towards the edge of the jungle, towards the nearest wall of the surrounding structure, and his ears and nose made him certain there were only two of them. Kopper could see glimpses of that gray wall, and the myriad number of windows that looked out from the heights, which he could see through the small gaps in the trees. There were movements seen behind some of those windows.

Obviously, those watchers were seeking any sign of the Scouts, and looking for movements along the paths or through the brush. There were no openings in the windows, so it didn’t seem likely there would be any firing from that direction, even if he should be seen briefly, or if he brushed aside undergrowth. He increased his speed, since the two he stalked were being so careless and noisy, and still talking, so they clearly didn’t suspect they were being hunted. Hunters seldom expected to be considered prey.

Finally, Kopper caught sight of who he was following. They were not exactly running full out, as their long legs implied they could have been doing, but they were jogging, looking from side to side intermittently, but not over their shoulders behind them, and their deep sibilant filled speech sounded somewhat like hissing, between the occasional low barks.

He needed to close with them before they reached the nearest wall, where there was presumably a door or portal they would enter, and windows that would allow onlookers to see what happened. The ripper put on a burst of speed. In this low gravity, sixty percent less than at home, he could catch them in seconds. They had clawed feet he noted, and there was no harsh clicking from them. The trail must be soft enough to provide a natural feeling grip. He extended his claws slightly, and leaped over a low shrub and landed on the path, a full five body lengths behind them, his broad foot pads softly cushioning his landing. He tested the grip with the tips of his claws, and found it was a moderately soft surface as he’d suspected, and there was no harsh click or scrape as his claws gripped.

He took them in at a glance, in an experienced hunter’s assessment of its prey. He instantly analyzed their strides, their arm and leg movements, the heavily muscled backs and shoulders, thick necks, and the short black claws at their fingertips, as their empty hands and long arms swung like those of humans did, with each stride.

When one turned its head to the right, he was prepared to leap at them in an overpowering attack, but held back when it simply glanced into the jungle and then looked forward again. The images of a Finth’s face, extracted from the Thandol prisoner’s memcache, matched the protruding muzzle, and exposed teeth he saw as the partly open mouth revealed.

He knew he could be on them before they could draw their pistols, which he saw in holsters on a belt at the right side of their hips. They were short furred creatures like himself, and one had a deep red tint, with nearly black fur in a strip leading down from the top of its head and down its back, and which thinned as it vanished above the gun belt at a narrow waist. The belt also secured the top of a pair of skintight black britches, with pant legs that only extended down to the center of where a human’s calves would be. Its upper torso was bare, at least from behind. The brown colored companion was slightly shorter, also well-muscled, and dressed in the same black britches and gun belt, with a dark brown fur stripe from head down the back to its waist.

They had pointed ears that extended higher than the top of their heads, and like a ripper’s, they pivoted forward and to the sides as they jogged and talked. Observing them while he could, his Comtap images were being shared with the others, so he only gained a single body length on them.

The smell that had led him to them was much stronger directly behind them, and it was unpleasant. He suddenly realized there was a narrow opening at the seat of the pants that each of them wore, with a dark moist spot on the exposed fur, nearly as black as the pants. With only mild surprise, he understood. They must have an anal musk gland, like several predatory animals he knew of on Koban. They used it to scent mark the boundaries of their territory.

Rippers did something similar, to mark pride territory, only it was done with urine. If raised with humans, as all the rippers on this mission had been, the young rippers learned at early ages that marking territory that way around your home got you into trouble with your human family.

If ripper pee smelled as bad to humans as Finth musk did to Kopper, he just gained an appreciation for their previously irrational seeming attitude. Although, when annoyed enough with almost any human, a ripper often rewarded the offender with a non-territorial marking. In say a shoe, or on some other personal possession. Or left them a small, long dead animal, to improve the odor of their bed.

At his superconducting speed of thought, his extended observation and mental musings had only consumed two strides of the slow moving Finth. Ahead of them, the jungle growth would soon grow sparser, and the winding trail must surely turn directly towards some entrance into the structure, which would expose him and his two targets to the probable observers at the windows. It was time to act.

****

The two Finth, a mid-status mated pair from lowly Delta pack, the Tribalt Hunters, were annoyed when their personal hunt was ended early. They had waited fifty cycles to enjoy this day, and before they found the prey type they had paid to hunt, the Alpha Leader closed the reserve to all hunters.

Hisstal, the big red male, was skeptical. “We neither saw nor heard any ships land in the reserve. There were only claps of soft thunder. I think Alpha Pack wants to hold a private hunt, because the leaders had to remain on Home Den when the fleet departed. They will use up the entire new shipment of prey animals. Our Delta pack should never have supported the Stalkers of Sissbalt two orbits ago, to add our votes to make them the new Alpha Pack. They do not show us enough respect.”

Frisstan, his lovely brown mate, never hesitated to disagree with her partner of many orbits. “That is a pile of slondat shit! If the Dominant One lies to us publicly, only to gain a private hunt for his pack, and uses alien ships as the excuse, it will be quickly exposed. The Pack Arbitrators would cancel the agreement his clan reached with our clan, and with the minority faction of the Killers of Prey, to gain our votes. The Arbitrators would call for another vote for an Alpha Pack, and it would not be the Stalkers again if both the Hunters and Killers change their allegiance.

“You and I urged our Hunters to vote for the Stalkers, and they know they owe us a debt of honor for our effort, however small that may be. There was no reason to end our hunt without cause. They will owe us a better hunt after today, at the same fee.”

Her mate was still not pleased. “Then why can’t we seek the alien ships along with them? We were already in the reserve. It would be a better hunt than what we bought.”

“With only our laser pistols, teeth, claws, and no armor? Alpha Pack will be coming with heavier weapons, and body armor. They gave us enough time to exit the reserve while they prepare, otherwise, we will also become prey. That is another threat they cannot take back. It is only your pride that has slowed our pace, else we would have passed through the west side hunter’s portal by now. I think all other hunters have left the reserve.”

Hisstal looked to the side, hoping to sight some sign of an alien through the trees, vines, and underbrush. It was a futile hope, and he didn’t even see the lesser game animals, or the ubiquitous small furry flying rislers, flitting between trees, catching, and eating the numerous insects that thrived in this well fertilized and watered artificial jungle.

This close to the building was where many of the frequent hunters entered the reserve, and it was common for them to test their smallest weaponry and shooting skill on such little moving targets. The animals avoided the trails where the Finth first entered the jungle, as a survival tactic.

The first sign he and Frisstan had that the alien he wishfully sought, had instead found them, was the sharp downward blow at their right hips, on their holsters. The laser pistols and holsters were torn from their belts, and in Hisstal’s case, a sharp claw tip also severed his belt where the holster was. The blow came from behind them and downward, casting the weapons ahead of them on the surface of the trail.

They had barely started to react when the same yet unseen massive paws pulled back, and with claws now retracted, simultaneously slammed down on their upper backs, hard, with eight hundred pounds of mass behind them, knocking them both forward and off their feet. They managed to put their hands forward soon enough to spare them from smashing their muzzles into the trail material. Their barrel chests smacked the ground with thudding impacts, knocking the air from their four-lung systems. A great weight landed on their legs, and on their backs, holding them in place and making it very difficult to draw in the gasping breaths, which their lungs now craved to replace, after the extended run they’d had seeking the scent of their prey animals.

As soon as they drew in ragged breaths, the two predators reacted instinctively, and wasted those breaths on snarls, as they tried to twist from under the heavy weight, to get at whatever had attacked them from behind.

A far deeper growl, from a more massive chest answered them, and then spoke in the implausible soft bugling of a Thandol’s voice. “Remain still, and stay quiet. I will not need to harm or kill either of you if you do that. My friends will be here soon.”

Despite that order, they both used an arm to raise one shoulder slightly, just enough to rotate their heads on their thick necks, so they could glimpse who held them down so firmly that they couldn’t pull or twist away. A glance was enough to show them they could cease looking for unwelcome aliens. One had found them.

It had piercing blue eyes, a color no land animal on Home Den possessed, and it glared down at them into their startled, and widening yellow orbs. It exposed enormous white fangs that made their own fearsome dentition seem like a cub’s first set of milk teeth. It had wet red and purple fur on its face. At least that was their first impression, until the base teal colored hair was revealed as coated with red juices of local plants, making smears of red that shaded into deep purple where the juices were thinner, showing small patches of blue fur between and below the smears. The effort to camouflage itself was obvious to the two experience hunters. However, it needed to do some more work to hide its odd spicy smelling natural scent, which made it past the smelly plant juice odors.

“Who are you?” Frisstan croaked out, her rib cage pressed so tight against the ground she could barely breathe.

“I am a shredder, one of the Federation species.” At least that was how the word ripper was translated into Thandol, which was close enough for Kopper’s purpose.

The alien’s face descended closer, between their heads, its nose touching the trail’s surface, and something soft on its neck touched the sides of their heads, and brushed against their long ears.

Hisstal was on the verge of trying to put enough strength into lifting and turning his head, so that he could bite into the furred right cheek now so close. He’d make it draw back enough that he or Frisstan might roll free and go on the attack.

There was a louder and deeper growl, and the widening jaws turned towards the male Finth’s face. “If you attempt to bite me, I’ll chew off your muzzle, and your mate will never think you are attractive again.”

The words, as much as the gaping jaws, made him pause. And not just because of the threat. How did it know Frisstan was his mate? Perhaps because she was a female, of course.

Then it said, “My friend is here, and he is armed. You cannot see him because he is in stealthed body armor, but you will hear him speak. I will slowly release you, and the two of us will take you to our ship to ask you questions.”

The soft touch to their heads and ears returned, followed by, “Your weapons have been picked up. I would not have let you reach them anyway.”

Again, the heavy beast had guessed what he would do, if he could rise. His plan had been to dive towards one of their guns laying on the path. He glanced ahead, and saw the two pistols elevated in the air. Their captor was telling the truth, and someone stealthed had their weapons.

To reinforce that realization, an identically sounding Thandol voice, issuing from where their pistols were held aloft, said, “I have weapons you can’t see or take away from me. We are going escort you to our ship, to learn who we need to talk to in your government if we want to avoid going to war with you Finth.” The fact the voice was identical, meant it was translation software speaking for them both.

The pressure on Hisstal’s back and legs was suddenly gone, but before he could take advantage, iron hands grasped his upper arms from behind, and bodily lifted him in a painful grip, and set him on his feet, the creature holding him was now standing behind him. He assumed his captor had powered armor to lift him so easily, and surely had weapons trained on his back.

He looked down to his mate, just as she was rolled over onto her back. That was accomplished by a large clawed paw, attached to a thick and muscled front leg of the massive beast that had held them pinned to the ground. Its large head and chest blocked his view of most of Frisstan, except for her face and upper shoulders. It was nearly three times her mass, and under that red plant juice was a powerfully muscled four-legged predator that no Finth would dare face alone and unarmed.

A repeat of the Thandol voice issued from a black fob attached to a strap around the animal’s neck. It spoke to the female Finth, but what it said provided her mate information he was surprised the beast knew about them. It wasn’t just a savage looking animal.

“You two know that many heavily armed Finth, of another pack, will soon swarm out of the building, hunting for us. They are not interested in talking to us. If either of you attempt to use your memory enhancer to send them an encrypted message, or try speaking to each other, even once, we will detect the signal even if we do not know its contents. You will complete your trip to our ship in a comatose condition until you are in a shielded environment. Do you understand?”

The female responded with a sideways head shake, and spoke in her own language. She understood, but apparently couldn’t speak the difficult to reproduce Thandol patois, or dialect.

Her mate suddenly started to collapse, but was held up when his unconscious form was prevented from falling. Shocked and alarmed, the female tried to rise to his aid. A large paw held her down, and the beast’s next words eased her concern, slightly.

“He tried to send an encrypted message on a different frequency than you two were using earlier to sometimes speak together. We don’t understand your language, but it was not encrypted. He has been made unconscious with a safe form of radiation, like the Thandol Debilitaters, but not painful. He will be carried to our ship. Will you walk or be carried? Move your muzzle up and down if you will obey us, or you will be made unconscious, like he was.”

Her nod of agreement received, she was told to stand up, and to turn back on the path, to travel deeper into the managed jungle. Several other invisible aliens met them, also speaking to her in that annoying Thandol language, reserved for subservient species. Even the Thandol had the curtesy to use translation programs to use Slithan to speak with the Finth.

For some odd, and uncomfortable reason, the huge predator had previously instructed her to place her left hand on its neck as it walked next to her, and she felt the ridge of flesh under the fur. It had placed its neck against her head previously, when she was on the ground.

An explanation was suddenly offered for why they used Thandol to speak to them, as if she had asked the question. Only they had admitted a moment ago, they didn’t understand Slithan, and she had not spoken anyway.

“If you will share the database of your language with us, with the translation index into this Thandol patois dialect, our computers will learn your language. If you know the Ragnar language, we understand that, and it will also help us learn your language faster. If we can speak to your leaders, we can possibly avoid a war with the Finth, and not be forced to destroy your fleet.”

Abruptly, the beast halted, and the form of her mate, being carried in a draped over fashion on his invisible captor, also stopped moving down the path. The pause lasted only a few seconds, before a curious apology was offered.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, but we need to move faster, and you will be carried.”

She felt a buzzing feeling as she went numb, and before the world went black, she realized she’d been caught, to prevent her from falling face first into the trail.

****

Seiko, angry with himself, swore when Kopper told him what he’d inadvertently frilled from the female when he mentioned their fleet. “Damn it to Hell. We should have asked them about their fleet right away. These two knew it had just left here to attack us.” He slipped his small jazzer back into the utility compartment of his suit, as Carrie Hawk, of his flight crew, caught the unconscious Finth.

Tossing the limp form over her raised arm and shoulder, Carrie and the other three stealthed Kobani, and Kopper, started a hard run along the path, to reach a closer place to turn off to reach their Scout as soon as possible.

“She didn’t know where their fleet was going,” Kopper corrected Jason. “It may not have been sent to attack a Federation planet. They also know where some Human Space worlds are now.”

“Then we had better catch some of the Finth coming out here to find us, who do know where they went. That fleet needs to be intercepted, no matter which world it is.”

Carol, suddenly paying attention to what they were discussing on the group link, had an idea. “I wonder what it would take to convince them to recall their fleet? Perhaps an attack here at home? They have the same long-range instant tachyon communications as the Thandol. Their fleet commander can surely communicate with the home world while in Jump status. Let’s make certain the leaders here give him an earful. There must be someone in charge inside this big damned building. We’ll try to find him or her.”

Danica Filho, her Scout hovering well above the team bringing back the captured Finth, informed them that their chance was at hand. “There are armored Finth charging out all six sides of the building, into the trails. They have virtually the same stealth type all the Empire forces we’ve seen use. Meaning, we can still see them as shimmery gray outlines. The Ragnar couldn’t see us on Tanner’s World, and hopefully these guys can’t see us either.”

“OK folks. Any armed or armored Finth is fair game, as is the building. If any of our AI’s can determine who seems to be transmitting orders to others, they might be one of the leaders, thus prime candidates for frilling or Mind Taps.”

She addressed the two Scouts she left in space, over the city of Pack Central. “Seong, Cardoza, if any of their ships approach this city, either in atmosphere or in space, destroy them if you can. None of us can use our gravity projectors down deep in this gravity well, but you also have missiles, lasers, and plasma bolts for low level targets. Give them Hell, and if you need some help, call us. Slobovic out.”

The team carrying the two captive Finth deposited them at their Scout, and then, like the other four crews, spread out into the jungle to meet their foes, as the grounded Scouts activated stealth.

Seiko used the Comtap images sent from watchers above to move closer to a column of ten armored warriors, who turned away from the building to enter the jungle preserve, using one of the many trails leading into the undergrowth. Each of them was carrying a long weapon, where half seemed to be plasma rifles because of the thicker barrels with their magnetic coils and the bulge of a plasma chamber near the trigger housing. The other Finth carried slimmer and lighter looking rifles, which had the look of the medium power lasers sometimes used by the Ragnar, and by regular army PU troopers.

Each of the warriors crouched low just as they entered the forest, as if ready to pounce if a foe was seen. The lower profile might make sense to avoid a shooter, but here they were so low as to suggest they had modified an instinctive predators crouch, despite being armed. It fit with the profile that they hunted natural prey by dropping to all fours, at least until they closed with them as they ran them down.

From a position above them, stealth activated and sitting on a thick red barked tree branch as they moved along the hard-packed trail, he watched as they used an integrated terrain scanning system, a combination of electronic, visual, and scents. Like on his own helmet, they had small sealable vents opened near their muzzles for smells, and their heads, on short thick necks, turned left and right, alternating between each Finth in line, so the jungle to the sides was under continuous observation. When one looked left, the one in front or back of him was looking right. They all tended to look up briefly, as they looked from side to side, but their postures and necks made looking up difficult without standing upright. Periodically, the Finth in front raised up to peer into large trees just ahead. The last one in line would suddenly turn completely around to check their back trail.

Something Seiko saw mounted on the backs of their armor was a pair of clamps. One near their right shoulder, and another near their waist on the other hip. There was nothing in them, and he couldn’t decide what their purpose was. Then, when there was sizable movement in the brush to the right of the trail, he discovered the purpose of the clamps. One Finth, second in line, swung his rifle smoothly over his shoulder, and the clamps snapped open, and closed on the rifle, freeing the Finth to drop to all fours, and it creeped quietly into the underbrush, with two warriors covering his back, the others maintaining uninterrupted side to side scans.

There was a suddenly loud thrashing sound through the brush, moving away from the trail. Seiko’s infrared vison caught a glimpse of the rump of a deer-like creature running through the trees. The investigating Finth returned on all fours, and as it cleared the overhanging low limbs, he rose and reached back to reclaim his rifle, and resumed his place in the momentarily paused file. This was a hunting preserve, and instead of a clumsy alien, they had found the wrong prey.

That was an item of interest he could share. He used a link to the Scout captains. “The Finth armor has clamps for holding their rifles across their backs when they drop to all fours to chase anything fleeing through the thick underbrush. They can get quite low to the ground when they do that, but they don’t have a weapon immediately available without raising up and reaching back.”

That datum delivered, he dropped from the limb to land softer than seemed possible from that height, touching the trail lightly, absorbing the drop with his toes, ankles, and knees, as shock absorbers. The rear-most Finth made one of its periodic full turns as the file of warriors resumed their advance deeper into the preserve. To Seiko, prepared to lance a plasma bolt through the Finth’s helmet, saw its eyes through its faceplate, sweep right by him without any hesitation. When it turned forward again, Seiko rose and rushed towards his first target.

There was no need to alert the Finth beyond his current target by generating a reflected flash of a visible energy beam, and infrared and microwave beams acted slowly enough to allow a radio outcry. Therefore, it would be silent and physical.

The protruding muzzle of the helmet, and the limited range of rotation of the head on that thick muscled neck suggested its own solution. At least one that a Kobani had the strength and speed to apply to the problem.

He stepped directly behind the wide chested, armored figure, slightly shorter than its fellow warriors, and waited until it had completed its repetitive scan to the left side of the trail, and started a head rotation to scan the forest to the right. He raised his left arm and started reaching over the Finth’s shoulder and around its neck as its head pivoted to the right.

He darted his right hand, palm up over the right shoulder, and as his left forearm and hand clamped in a viselike grip on the neck and upper shoulders, his right gauntlet grasped the muzzle of the helmet from below, and pulled backwards and up. Hard!

He felt, more than heard, the snap of the neck vertebrae as the Finth finally achieved a capability that had eluded her kind in life. She could see her backtrail without rotating her now tightly held shoulders.

It was a brief glimpse, as Seiko noted when the yellow eyes quickly closed. He stepped to the side of the trail holding the body erect, and laid the corpse behind an orange and red shrub at the edge of the hard-packed path. He knew the Finth was dead the same way he knew it had been a female. There was enough conductivity through their armor that he achieved a limited Mind Tap, which vanished the instant the spinal cord was severed as the fractured vertebrae cut through. He’d overestimated the strength of the Finth’s armor, at least at the neck joint, and he’d nearly pulled the head and helmet away from the torso. That would have changed his timeline, because blood coated stealthed armor needed to be wiped cleaned, and reversing a suit’s static charge could repel some particles, but that would have taken time.

Now, however, he had information he hadn’t had a moment ago. The Finth armor was even more vulnerable at the joints than his was. He had easily ripped the material from the joint’s clamps and seal to the torso at the front. The next warrior, whom he was closing with, was taller than the female, which had already been a head taller than Seiko. He could jump up on its back to do the same thing to snap its neck, but his feet would be off the ground and he might not catch the body quietly before the two of them toppled over. He reached down to his right thigh, and opened the stealth coated sheath attached there.

This time, he didn’t need to wait for the warrior to turn his head towards the side, to shorten the motion to snap the neck. He jumped higher, but not onto the back of the seven and a half foot tall Finth. He thrust forward and down, so the molecular thin edge at the tip, with the power of his arm behind it, overcame the flex material of the inch-wide rear neck joint, and he severed the spinal cord more surely than before. He used his left hand to grasp the muzzle and pulled the dying Finth backwards, to catch the body and lay it on the path. No need to hide it, as the next Finth turned a corner in the trail around a large tree trunk.

Seiko intended to work his way up the line of ten, but as he took down the third warrior, the leader finally selected the icons of his sub-pack, to select five warriors to split off. This ten had separated from the original twenty of the pack-platoon that exited Pack Command together. There was a split in the trail ahead and he intended to split his command to search more of the preserve for the aliens they knew were here. Except, three icons had changed shapes. They were dead, and one of them was very close behind them. It seemed impossible that any of his Hunters of the Forests had been hunted, and quietly killed. But the AI’s monitoring of life signs, which in this familiar forest preserve he hadn’t thought to check, were seldom wrong.

He rage-hissed his warning, issued orders to his warriors, and they immediately pivoted and charged back towards the bend around the huge tree they’d just passed. As the first Finth came around the obstacle, he saw the gray outline of the still stealthed body of his dead packmate, rolling onto his side as his body completed its fall. He fired his plasma rifle directly above the body, making a reasonable assumption that the Federation assailant, with superbly stealthed armor, was standing over the body.

The Finth was nearly correct, but he hadn’t connected the reported high stress flying ability of Federation pilots with their unexpected physical abilities. His intended, even if invisible target, was already twenty feet off the ground and rising in this mere .91 g of Earth standard gravity. Seiko waited until he reached the limb he’d leaped towards, and had pulled himself up, before unleashing a plasma bolt to the Finth’s neck joint. He followed up with a red laser to the face plate of the Finth just behind. That was a mistake, since the faceplates were polarized and AI controlled. The beam was attenuated before real damage was done, although that eye would be dazzled for hours. Another plasma bolt rectified the error, which made recovery from the laser hit a moot point.

By then, the other five Finth knew the general elevated direction of the incoming fire, and started blazing away towards the upper limbs as they approached the tree. Seiko, considering discretion to be the better part of valor, did his best impression of a classic ancient jungle man he’d read about as a boy, and ran off along tree limbs tempted to activate his speaker to utter a Tarzan yell. The discretion thing won again, over his desire to stupidly taunt the enemy with an annoying sound they might shoot towards. It was time to head back to his Scout.

****

Konar was the only ripper poised near a wider trail that led away from one cliff-like wall of the Pack Command structure. He had been the first to see armed Finth leaving the building, infiltrating into the hunting reserve.

They were in armor that defeated his hunter’s vision when their stealth was activated. Vision that functioned well under low light and into the infrared. Nevertheless, their careless stealth activation procedures made it possible for him to observe them, as they made their exits through the sliding double doors that pulled apart into the side walls. They tended to activate stealth only as they neared the doorway, seemingly forgetting that the now invisible warriors ahead of them revealed the shapes behind them. He crouched low, concealed in the underbrush, as he counted them until the doors slid closed.

He reported what he’d seen to all the teams, with certain details intended only for rippers. “Armored and stealthed Finth exited from the center of the northwest wall, the first wall as you count clockwise from the northern wall. I saw the portal open, and as they activated their suit stealth I counted sixty fighters that came out. They each carried rifle length weapons with power cables to their suits, and the weapons have the same stealth coating, although that isn’t as perfect as what is on the suits. A ripper can see the scrapes in the coatings on rifles, causing ripples in their stealth as they move.

“They spread apart into three equal groups. Twenty moving left, twenty to the right, following the perimeter trail by the wall. Another twenty went straight ahead, on a wide path leading into the reserve. After going stealth it’s hard to see the ripples, but their musk is unmistakable. They must be desensitized to their own excretions, operating in a jungle where it is pervasive from frequent hunts. I could follow them with eyes closed at maximum running speed.”

Kally, senior pride mate, said, “You won’t do that, I hope. Draw them into the undergrowth, and then their upright posture will move leaves and limbs as they pass. Take them one at time if you can, from the sides or behind.”

“Of course, Kally. I’m no first-hunt cub, you know.” His young male ego was somewhat dented, as if he’d forget the stalking techniques he’d mastered at home.

“What we hunt at home isn’t stealthed, intelligent, or armed. And we just learned that a Finth can drop to all fours to run, if in close pursuit of agile prey.”

“In thick armor, while carrying a heavy weapon in at least one hand?”

“Seiko says they secure the rifle on their backs when they run on all fours.”

“OK. Point made. I’ll be careful.” He was unable to suppress his excited and youthful exuberance for the stalking about to commence. Careful wasn’t high on his list of concerns.

This sudden aggressive development by the Finth had occurred faster than any of them expected, and rather than hunting together in a small pride of four cooperating rippers, they were deployed widely as scouts, unable now to work as a unit. Fortunately, they had the ability to use their tachyon links for communications, and to transmit continuously their location on the dynamic Comtap delivered maps of the reserve, provided by the four Scouts hovering above them. It was unlikely a Finth, even unencumbered with technology, could move as fast and quietly as a sinuous tiger, moving through any jungle.

Konar was acutely aware of the air currents, and had selected his place of concealment with those factors in mind. Accordingly, he’d rapidly created his “attractants” with the breeze in mind. Now he waited for the distractions to work. This was a strategy that he used exactly opposite to how he’d have done this when stalking rhinolo or blue streaks on Koban. Those prey animals would never turn towards a scent like this, certainly not to investigate a rippers territorial markings. But these were fellow predators, and he believed he understood them even better that he did prey.

He watched the prepared places along the trail leading into the reserve, that he hoped would draw attention. Those were on the opposite side of the ten-foot wide path from his position, where he crouched thirty feet away, hidden in the red leaves and colorful flowered vines that climbed the smaller trees at the edge of the reserve. He could smell the scent of his own urine, so he assumed they could, while wearing armor with nose vents opened.

Kobani armor served in the vacuum of space, but in deference to their ripper nasal genetics, they could manually open small helmet vents to allow them to sniff external odors. Surely the predatory Finth, with their prominent noses, did that to follow scent trails.

His preparation was triply rewarded. All three scent markings drew interest. He saw leaves and limbs pushed aside, as stealthed bodies carefully made their way into the jungle undergrowth. The visual ripples of the weapons they carried was hard to see, because the reduced sun under the thicker forest crown made them less detectable the farther they were from the perimeter path. They were not in hot pursuit, so he knew their weapons would be in their hands.

He’d spaced his piss spots fifty feet apart, and fifty feet into the heavy growth, and he had deliberately stepped on a few plants as he went in and out, to leave a faintly visible path from each scent marked location. He was estimating how many Finth took each path. Not surprisingly, the path closest to the building, with the lighter urine deposit, drew what he thought was only three hunters. There were clearly more figures pushing their way inwards at the two paths he’d set deeper into the trees.

Exercising caution, he approached the path’s artificial surface, staying low, disturbing growth as little as possible, and intently gazing at the path, to spot any Finth that could be posted there as back cover. He checked quickly with a Scout he knew was somewhere overhead. Even through the trees, they could detect the shadowy figures that had taken that path. Thirteen had continued into the trees, and three groups had split off to the side of the trail away from him. Three Finth, following the traces he’d deliberately left for them, were cautiously moving away from him. That was the group he wanted, and there were no watchers left on the path.

He swiftly crept across the surface of the trail and stayed on the now well trampled path, which the unconcerned hunters had left behind them. Without the need to avoid as many encroaching limbs and leaves, he quickly closed the gap with the Finth in the tail-end-Charley position, as named by the Kobani that had explained it to the rippers, in their combat training. Konar needed to ask who this person named Charley was. If he was as careless as this Finth was, never looking back, he must have had a short combat life. He hadn’t factored in the short thick neck a Finth had, with armor added, to grasp that these troops couldn’t turn their heads around as far as a human could, and certainly couldn’t look around enough to see their own tails, as a ripper could.

This wasn’t a capture mission, so there was no need to take this one down easy, as Kopper had the two prisoners. His questions to himself was how tough was the armor, how flexible, and could it be pulled apart? It was probably bite proof if it was projectile and plasma bolt resistant. That left flexibility and dismantling to determine. So, he did.

Getting a running start, his young, seven hundred pounds of Koban carbon fiber muscles launched him at his prey. He swiped his right paw at the side of where the highest brushed aside leaves told him the Finth’s head was located, as his left claws pulled backwards below where the left shoulder brushed against a leaf on that side. Both tactics worked, but feeling the left arm snap below the shoulder, inside the articulated armor, proved to be redundant damage.

That was because the armored helmet, suit stealth failing, separated from the fastenings of the upper torso armor as if a cannon shot had torn it free. The shreds of the thick neck of the instantly dead Finth were all that remained above the sloping armored shoulders. The sound of the head and helmet, smashing through the brush and smacking into a tree trunk, before ricocheting into the undergrown to the left, made a useful noise and shook some leaves.

Konar, continuing his leap over the headless Finth, used his hind legs against the shoulders of the dead and falling corpse to use its mass to help launch himself at the second Finth, who appeared to have started to react to the noise and disturbance in the undergrowth to his left. A ripple along the length of his heavy plasma rifle was faintly visible to the ripper, and it pushed aside leaves as it was leveled to fire at whatever was out there. There was never a trigger pull.

Without touching the ground, Konar used what he’d learned on his first pounce. This time his left paw decapitated the Finth, smashing into the muzzle, batting the head and helmet to the right side, this time.

The ripper landed on the dead body, and he noticed that his rear quarters felt warm, and suddenly his chest also felt warm and wet. He’d been sprayed by the arterial blood from the two decapitations. Far from spoiling his camouflage, the iron rich blood splashes also blended with the color of the jungle plants. And smelled delicious.

The sounds of brush being crushed drew his eyes just ahead, where a narrow swath was being pressed down. It was next to where he’d deposited his last urine trace, and he instantly surmised that the third Finth had crouched or kneeled, to more closely sniff and examine the enemy trace left behind. Hearing or seeing the second attack, he had either seen the ripper, or saw his comrade go down. He suddenly rolled aside, crushing under brush to avoid the attack he expected, and to bring his weapon to bear on the back trail.

As he brought the rippling muzzle up, he pulled the trigger, and a blue-white plasma bolt tore from the barrel, centered on the red stained muscled body hurtling towards him with unbelievable speed.

It was also an unbelievably agile body. The star hot ions only singed the right-side fur of his attacker, because it twisted in a sinuous contortion, to bend its body way from his aiming point, a mere instant before the Finth sent the mental command through his memory enhancer to fire his weapon. He couldn’t have missed, but he did.

There was only a few hundredths of a second cycle time for his dual chambered assault weapon to fire again, but that was too long when confronted with a ripper that close. Konar reached for the visibly glowing muzzle as it was pointed towards him again, and the energetic swipe of his right paw hit the yellow glow, and tore the weapon easily from the Finth’s panic strengthened grip. The bent weapon went flying into the jungle, tearing the power cable from the electronics package on the back waist of his suit, which also shorted out the stealth system.

Konar now could see the pistol in a stealthed coated holster at the waist of the suit, and tore it away with a paw slap. There would be help coming for this warrior soon, so he couldn’t dwell here very long, but there was enough time for a frill.

With newly gained knowledge of the armor, he smacked repeatedly at the helmet, and popped open a seam on the chest, even as the Finth desperately tried to fend off his paws. Konar gaped his jaws and lowered his head over the helmet, the face of the Finth staring up in yellow eyed horror. However, all he did was forcefully pull the helmet off his head, to expose fur, face, and ears. Konar had heard that the ears had sensitive enough nerves for a good frill contact.

He his left paw, his extended claws providing a firmer grip, forced the Finth’s head to the side, and pushed its muzzle painfully against its right shoulder. The ripper lowered his head to put his frill against the exposed left ear, ignoring the muffled gibberish his prey was trying to speak.

Using his fob, he asked a question in Thandol about their fleet, expecting an answer via mental images. Instead he sensed total confusion, and fear. He asked again. More fear, and confusion. He’d managed to catch a live Finth that did not understand the Thandol language.

In a flash of insight, the ripper sent an image of a fleet of just the few types of Finth ships Konar knew about, and then showed images of the fleet shooting at humans, then shooting at Raspani, Torki, and finally at Prada. He had what he thought was the answer, but there were sounds of multiple Finth running through the jungle, getting closer.

The Scout captain above him, Captain Zafar, warned him. “There are eight Finth headed your way Konar, based on the trampled brush and faint images of their suits on our sensors. They’re running full out, and almost horizontal to the ground on all fours. Get away from there, or let us pick you up.

“I’ll go, but I have one thing to do.” Told they were running at full speed, he knew they would be on all fours, and thanks to Seiko’s observation he knew they couldn’t shoot on the run. He’d have a few extra seconds.

There was no time for a death frill as the prey’s life slowly drained, to feed the ripper’s desire for a “taste of fear.” That was something his kind had evolved to crave, increasing their desire to hunt, and coincidentally fed the pride better. There was no desire to eat this prey, but to kill and gain nothing was a sinful waste, so the information acquired took the place of meat. He did what was required.

He pulled away from the ear. The Finth, certainly familiar with killing captured prey, saw it coming, its widening yellow eye rolled to the side to see its captor. It issued a loud but strangled sounding scream, inarticulate with that massive paw pressing so painfully down on its muzzle. Konar opened his jaws and bit down with crushing force, his long upper incisors piercing through the top of the skull and tearing into the brain. That moment of terror was his only satisfaction, and then he pulled away, to disappear into the jungle. He passed the rushing inbound Finth in armor, who were unprepared to fire at the streak of motion that ran directly between two of them. Before they could stop, rise, and unsling their rifles, there was no longer a target.

Konar called Slobovic on the group channel. “Carol, the Finth were sent to attack the Prada. I could not learn which world, but the last Finth I killed knew it was a Prada colony.”

“OK. I’ll send that to Haven. There are only three Prada colonies underway, and one so new that they have not established a permanent base. If the Finth cross the border, our monitors will sense their movements.”

“Not if they go out of the galactic plane to get there.” Seiko pointed out. “The Ragnar went around our monitors to reach Tanner’s World.”

“Well, it will be Mirikami’s decision what we do. President MacDougal will order whatever Tet suggests. We’ll continue the fight here until told otherwise.”

Sergey’s led his eight Kobani, with Kandy scouting, through the jungle behind another twenty Finth, which had come from a different wall portal. Six groups of sixty warriors had poured into the two-mile diameter reserve, each dividing into three parties of twenty each, and often dividing a couple of times after that.

He spread his people out ahead of an onrushing platoon of Finth. They appeared to be headed for the general area where his Scout had landed. On his command, Kandy provided the distraction he’d asked her to make, while keeping the unarmored, and unstealthed ripper out of the line of fire. She uttered a magnificent roar, which reverberated from the wall just behind her, the one where this group had originated.

Every single Finth paused for an instant, and looked behind them for the origin of that frightening and unfamiliar sound, thus nine of the twenty never saw what killed them, as multiple plasma bolts and lasers blew off the heads of the closest warriors to the Kobani.

Another nine died as they turned back to their ambushers, and fired off bolts and beams that were aimed only in the general direction of the source of that assault. The shooters had dropped prone after the first volley, fired again, and rolled away from those positions before the two surviving Finth fired at two of the just vacated positions. They disintegrated in a splatter of singed armor and burned body parts, as all nine Kobani targeted them with combinations of plasma bolts and lasers.

Similar carnage happened to some of the other groups, but none fell for the roaring distraction again, and two stealthed Kobani were killed when they were hit before they could move from a firing position after a beam or bolt from them revealed where they were. Two other Kobani were wounded by random fire at movements a Finth saw in the undergrowth. Kandy was seriously wounded in her left rear leg when an apparent random plasma bolt was fired into her place of concealment. Stealthed Scouts fired on Finth groups exposed on paths, before they landed to recover the two dead and three wounded. Each Scout carried one med lab.

When the original Finth force was reduced just over a third of their original numbers, they started a general withdrawal. They had not found any of the ships seen landing, and decided that the aerial firing came from the same ships, now airborne and stealthed. That was when the Kobani started to pull back to their own Scouts.

Carol had communicated with Mirikami, and was waiting for their next instructions. In the meantime, she decided that since it was too late to prevent the Finth from launching an attack, the leaders would have to pay for their bad intentions, using the eight Scouts at Pack Command. They started firing their plasma cannons and lasers at the building, and when several armored columns started moving in their direction from the surrounding city, they hit the lead elements with missiles. The Finth had fast medium tanks, which the Thandol told them were called Crawlers, armed with a range of weapons much like the Ragnar used, including the Thandol mobile Debilitaters.

Suddenly, Seong called Slobovic. “Carol, twenty-one Carnivore light cruisers, and four Eater class heavy cruisers have just made Jump exits over Pack Central. Cardoza and I will engage them with our gravity projectors, but they’re coming from all directions, and moving in evasive patterns, executing random micro Jumps. They were apparently scattered all around the system. If they spot any of you firing down there, in atmosphere, they might target one of you before we can take them all out.

“To our sensors, your Scouts show up visually every time you shoot, so they can see you too. You know we don’t have shit for armor on these ships.” A not so subtle warning of how vulnerable the other eight Scouts were if they continued to reveal their locations down there.

The warning was enough for Carol. “All Scouts in atmosphere, execute immediate Jumps to orbit, and join Seong and Cardoza. Activate your gravity projectors to take out the ships that just arrived, then we’ll eliminate their orbital repair stations and docks. Avoid firing on orbital habitats, and the domes on the moons. Filho, take your four Scouts and Jump to New Den, and attack orbital targets there. You have gravity gun rods to hit ships sitting on tarmacs on the moons. We’ll do the same here.”

With that, Carol’s little flotilla commenced to teach the Finth what sort of Hell could be unleashed on them. Provided the Federation survived the attacks being directed at them, with their sparse forces spread so thin. There were few new Mark IIs finished, with their heavier firepower, more powerful gravity projectors, and better hull armor. The Scouts had discovered only this week that they couldn’t attack surface targets with black holes down in the deeper gravity wells of large moons, let alone planets.

The main Federation offensive against Thandol military targets, located on the surface of Empire worlds or large moons, would seemingly need to be conducted via clanship attacks, and by attacks by the Planetary Union’s navy cruisers. That is unless the Mark IIs projectors could do that. Using only missile technology, the Federation’s attacks would be more vulnerable to enemy counter measures. If they then needed to holdback those older missile equipped ships as defenders of their own planets, there wouldn’t be much offensive capability to dissuade the Empire from attacking them with their far more numerous warships.

The ten Scouts, dividing the limited number of space accessible targets between them, managed to do considerable damage in the hour before Mirikami had their new orders.

“Carol, I conferred with the council members I could find that were on Xenos, and Comtapped others that were off planet. They advised the President to call back your squad and Thad’s. The Prada recently took delivery of ten Scouts, configured for their use. But that means they can’t conduct maneuvers that would produce accelerations that exceed a Prada’s ability to remain conscious. They wouldn’t be good at space dog fighting in any case.

“I’m caught in a numbers game. Between your flotilla, and Thad’s, and the ten that haven’t even reached the Thack Delos, I don’t have very many Scouts to send to cover the three Prada colonies. We delivered fifty to the PU, and they want to keep those for their own protection. Besides, they lost eleven of them at Rogue 1.”

“Tet, what about the larger Mark IIs? They have larger gravity projectors.”

“Yes, but we’ve not tested the Mark IIs in combat, not after the cheaper and faster to build Scouts performed so well. That was why we diverted more production lines to the Scouts. We only have three Mark IIs completed, and two more nearly finished. They can form larger black holes at greater projected ranges, but they can’t do it any faster than a Scout can. I’ll be testing to see if they can hit a planet’s surface with black holes.

“Regardless, with thousands of enemy ships to fight, we need more ships of our own. I’m sending five hundred clanships to One Land, the Prada’s original home world. I was also asked to send more clanships for protecting all the other colonies. Five are human, two Torki, two Raspani, and the Krall’tapi world. I can’t leave Koban and Haven bare either. Fifteen potential target worlds, fifty or sixty Scouts and three Mark IIs to use their gravity weapons, and damned if I didn’t send thirty of our Scouts deep into the Empire. That means the five thousand old clanships can place only three hundred over some smaller colonies.

“The Thandol still have over twenty thousand of their own warships, and each security force has three thousand, to thirty-five hundred warships. We only know of one probable target, a Prada world, and even then, we aren’t sure which of their three colonies the Finth are targeting. I’m ending your mission, and possibly the one headed for the Thack Delos. Come back, we need you here.”

“Yes, Sir. What is our destination?” She thought she knew, and was correct.

“You’re going to One Land to help the Prada. If the Finth fleet left yesterday, and are taking the long way around to avoid being detected, your direct route can get there at about the same time, possibly ahead of them. The five hundred clanships will be there tonight, to back up the ten Prada Scouts. I have asked Thad to go to the second Prada colony, nearer to the Empire’s border, and the Thack Delos team, led by Athena Christopoulos, who fought at Tanner’s World, might be turning back, I haven’t decided if they will. The Finth wouldn’t reach the newest small Prada colony for three days, if that one is the target. The three hundred clanships will be on their own there at first, if it’s hit, but it has the lowest Prada population, and they can flee or hide.”

“Sir, we’ll Jump within minutes. If we need to change destinations, we’ll be prepared with alternate coordinates calculated.”

“Excellent, Carol. We need to be as fluid as possible. I have no idea who or where the Empire will attack next.”

Chapter 6: The Empire Strikes Back

Emperor Farlol wasn’t in a mood to talk, even mentally by radio using his memcache, because his head hurt as much as his mouth, throat, and both trunks. Projectile vomiting a short time ago, through his trunks, had burned them with stomach acid for their entire lengths. But his throat, mouth, and tongue, were so raw from his entire week of unrelieved suffering, that he couldn’t tolerate another batch of stomach bile making its exit by mouth. It had required effort and muscle pressure to compress his ribs, to boost that vile material to high enough pressure to take the more constricted pathways through the higher located and more narrow passageways of his two trunks.

This contraction had raised his blood pressure, and triggered a severe headache. Considering the large size of a Thandol’s skull, this was no small matter. He could barely think coherently, and now he couldn’t even bugle and trumpet coherently because of the swelling of those inner membranes. His memcache was his only alternative means to communicate, and he was tempted to order his second group of physicians executed, as he had his first team of three Imperial Physicians.

His posterior was also raw, yet he’d dispensed with the absorbent massive diapers he’d been given to capture effluent at that end. That was because it had made his skin sore in a larger area when the acidic fluids were trapped and held so close. Now he simply stood over a large catch basin in front, and one at the rear, and water sluiced away the noxious ejecta. The constant stream of sweet smelling waters reduced the odor, and a padded framework, with a long soft couch under his belly, helped him stand on his wobbly legs.

It had been twelve cycles since he’d been able to keep any grass, fruit, or grains down for more than a quarter cycle. The parasites living in his intestinal walls were persistent and tenacious. The drugs prescribed to kill them were somewhat toxic, and the waste products and dead worms were toxic, yet triggered a ravenous hunger in their victims, because they were unable to absorb enough nutrients from what they ate. The intravenous fluids he was given provided the nutrients, but the hormonal balance triggered by normal digestion was disrupted, and was the cause of his increased food craving. It was vicious cycle, because consuming food aided the parasites reproduction.

His original doctors had told him to abstain from all foods, and let the intravenous fluids sustain him while the drugs killed the parasites and let them naturally purge from his system within ten cycles. They had no solution for his increased cravings for food other than telling him to use his willpower to resist eating. He’d then ordered them cut off from food as well.

The doctors had started self-medicating, and treating later victims as soon as the infection was confirmed for dozens of nobles and consorts in the Palace. Thus, others outside the inner palace either didn’t contract the infection, or suffer as severely, and its further spread was prevented. Not being permitted to eat, if the Emperor couldn’t, didn’t help them at all, and they needed to stay mobile to attend to his every need. The intravenous infusions were less effective when Farlol ignored their advice.

It was impossible for them to counter the Emperor’s orders to his servants, particularly after he had the Palace Gardeners executed for either carelessness, or were accused of attempting a regime change. When food was brought to him on his orders, his condition did not improve in the period promised if he’d followed their instructions. So, the first physicians followed the gardeners to the grave.

When assured by his new doctors that he would never recover if he continued to eat real food, he accepted their advice. More because he’d grown so sick, sore, and weak, that the very act of chewing and swallowing became so painful that he was more willing to accept being constantly hungry. Tests now told his doctors that the expelled parasites and their unhatched eggs proved his body was healing, and lacking food in which to lay eggs, or to feed themselves, they were dying.

He sometimes wanted to die, but was determined to discover who within his wide circle of noble contacts had deliberately infested four or five grazing plots, here, in the access restricted upper levels of the Imperial Palace complex. His advisors finally convinced him he’d rashly had his gardeners executed, because they were also infected. He felt consoled when he remembered they were already old, and would not likely have survived the infection, even with expert medical attention.

Retroactively, he falsely notified their families they had succumbed to the parasites, and had to be cremated to protect others from its spread. That was also the fate of his harem of consorts. They wouldn’t have been sexually attractive to him after the physical ravages, and they knew too much of the Palace inner workings to leave. They were put down painlessly.

Now, his High Commander, Delthab Trindal, was insisting he needed to speak with him, about the attacks he’d ordered on the Federation. All Farlol wanted was for that war to proceed as ordered, and not need to make new decisions.

After the third attempt to reach him via a memcache link, and there had been no fresh unfortunate biological discharge for a quarter cycle, Farlol decided he could tolerate a brief conversation.

“You will not have much of my time, High Commander. I am in no mood for a progress report on our attacks on the Federation.”

“Your Majesty, would a serious Federation attack on two of our largest fleet bases fall within your time restriction, and be of interest to you?”

“What two bases?” His second stomach churned, as he tensed for what would be bad news.

“Rogue 1 was attacked, as we anticipated, and the thirty Smashers left there for an ambush force destroyed an estimated half of the enemy ships, almost as soon as they appeared. The number destroyed was believed to be about twenty.”

That didn’t sound like a disaster report to Farlol. However, he only needed to be more patient. His momentary silence, as his stomach cramps eased, was taken as allowance by Trindal to continue to the bad news.

“They sent very small ships of apparently the same type that attacked Rogue 2. They arrived in a relatively tight formation, which permitted the flotilla to detect the approach of their combined masses through Tachyon Space. They predicted accurately where they would exit, and had a barrage of Decoherence bombs waiting for them to emerge.

“Much as Force Commander Thond told us, the human pilots, which he says call themselves Kobani, reacted extremely quickly to our attack, and the survivors spread apart to escape our target area. Their small size and superior stealth then rendered them undetectable.

“The flotilla commander was Commander Jistolra, your third cousin, as I’m sure you recall.” It wouldn’t hurt to mention the Emperor’s personal choice to lead that flotilla, considering what happened next.

“Before Jistolra’s force could adjust, the enemy attacked them with new gravity controlled weapons, of much greater effectiveness than those used at Rogue 2. They used small black holes to attack our Smashers.

“He lost eight of his ships almost immediately, and Jistolra ordered a withdrawal to the base where our Sector one fleet had been relocated.”

Farlol wasn’t as distressed as he’d expected to be. It was the patience thing again. “We were fortunate I followed your suggestion to evacuate that base, High Commander. Trading twenty enemy ships for eight of ours was unfortunate, but to our advantage.” He’d totally forgotten Trindal had said there had been two bases attacked.

“Your Majesty, the enemy followed the twenty-two Smashers to Fleet Staging area 1. They were still establishing the base, and were disorganized, and unprepared. The enemy attacked with the small black holes, which can sweep through multiple ships, and destroyed the rest of Jistolra’s flotilla, and approximately three thousand eight hundred ships, and all the orbital stations and repair docks. That was the disaster I described.

“However, in the process, we learned limitations of their new gravity weapon, and we salvaged some of the wreckage of their ships from Rogue 1, recovering hull sections coated with their advanced stealth coatings.”

The cramps vengefully returned, but Farlol persevered. “Can we use what you found to our advantage, to help our war effort quickly enough to matter?”

“We believe so, your Imperial Majesty. We have our best technical minds working on the debris, and theoretical scientist considering what we learned about their gravity control ability, and its observed limits. We need your approval to divert resources for the effort, and permission to conduct risky live combat testing. We may not have time to fight an extended war of attrition, as we anticipated. Humans are too reckless and aggressive for our normal and reasonable caution.”

An explosive intestinal “event” was forming. Farlol quickly said, “You have my order to divert what is needed for this work. Goodbye.” He terminated the link just in time.

****

Mirikami was adamant. “Stewart, I intended to lead this task force from The Mark, as the fleet flagship. If I need to resign from the government and become just another captain, I’ll take my old Mark of Koban and go anyway. I’ll damn well fight to defend the Prada worlds.”

MacDougal was fearful of losing the strongest glue that bound the fledgling Federation together. “Tet, with Comtap you can receive instant updates and mental visuals from those that are there, and direct their operations from anywhere, such as from here on Haven, or even Koban. Generals and admirals don’t normally participate in the actual fighting.”

“Had I done that with the Spider Hole team on that Testing Day at Koban Prime, they would all have died, the Krall would have had another demoralizing victory over those captives, and none of the other captives would later have followed my lead had I been that cautious. I put myself at common risk with them, and that is what boosted their morale, and convinced them to follow me.

“I swear I don’t mean this as an insult Stewart, but you and your family were still in Human Space, unaware of the Krall threat, months prior to your cruise ship’s capture. I was on Koban, and I foresaw what needed to be done then. I know what needs to be done now, to keep our militarily weak Federation united. None of the four species that survived to become Krall slaves are natural fighters, and the Prada, Torki, and Raspani, need to see my personal commitment to their safety, as I fight alongside them. The Krall’tapi were once fighters, but became slaves and tools of the Krall for thousands of years, and they say they will fight, if I do.

“We know the Prada were never fighters, and they promptly accepted Krall Rule because they were an elder species to them. They are going to fight now, against an Empire led by a species even older than were the Krall, and possibly older than the Olt’kitapi. I will be there with them, I promised them, and I am going. Do I have your support, or will I be a freelance captain with his own personal clanship?”

Hurt and angry, MacDougal could only express his feelings. “That crack about me and my family being safe in Human Space, back when you organized the resistance to the Krall was needlessly hurtful. That was a low blow.”

“Stewart, I am truly sorry if that’s how I came across. I didn’t mean it that way. I only meant that I have often been able to see what needed to be done before it needed doing. Had you already been a captive on Koban, that wouldn’t have changed what Dillion and I did on that fateful Training Day. And, as you did later in Prime City, you backed our political position despite not endorsing gene modifications. That took courage to oppose the Cahill faction. Forgive me if I offended you. That was not my intent, old friend.”

With a sigh, MacDougal offered his hand. “I’m afraid I let my concern for your safety sway me, and my fear of leading this fragile Federation without you around to help. That worry pushed me into what I knew was a futile argument before it started. Your President, and more importantly, your friend, wishes you God Speed. Please come back to us safely.”

Gripping the offered hand, Mirikami said, “You have no idea how many of our other mutual friends have warned me of the severe consequences to my ass and health if I get myself killed.”

He laughed, thinking of how they would do that. At their urgings, he’d made a Raspani style recording of his personality, stored in one of their specially built mind enhancers. There was no such thing as an empty minded Kobani to use as a vessel for his resurrected mind, so it seemed pointless to him. If he got himself killed, the aggravation of the never ending “I told you so’s” would limit the pleasure of a return to life, or at least to awareness. He’d just be very careful.

“When will you be leaving?”

“Tonight. Carol estimates the route taken by the Finth fleet, arcing out below the galactic plane, to the south, was deep enough that she estimated two days of travel below, two days horizontal, and two days to climb north, towards one of the Prada colonies. That means her ten Scouts, traveling direct, can arrive near any of the Prada worlds almost as soon as our task force gets there. Thad’s ten Scouts will get there with me, because they are due back here in a few hours. The ten Thack Delos Scouts will continue to search for that fleet at their home star. I need to know if they also launched for Federation worlds, and which ones.”

“What of the Ragnar, and Thandol?”

“Thad left the Ragnar fleet in disarray and with an uncertain acting Force Commander, but their fleet is mostly intact. The Thandol have released Thond to return home. That’s what we learned from house servant spies of nobles in the High Command. We don’t know what Thond will do, but he certainly knows what we will do to his fleet and home worlds, and that should give him pause.

“The Emperor and his palace are essentially in a closed box because of the quarantine. From the busy crematorium, absentee gardeners, and several missing Imperial Physicians, we can assume the Emperor is, shall we say, down in the dumps, and distracted. That mission appears to have worked to divert the Emperor’s attention, but it should have occurred a month sooner. I don’t know if the Thandol will wait until after their security forces attack, or send one or two fleets of their own at the same time. They are not acting at all as they have historically. I stirred up a mess by having less of an understanding of how they think and react, than I did of the raw instincts of the Krall.

“The Thandol are smarter, and The Emperor is driven by a Herd Master’s ego and sexual drive to dominate his domain, which I failed to fully grasp. Right now, they are acting less predictably than the subservient species say they have acted in the past. I hope they don’t join their proxy fleets right now, since we are spread so thin.”

“Well, we don’t have hundreds of worlds to guard yet, like they probably think. We have a huge territory, but it’s sparsely settled.”

“Yes, but we can’t meet five fleets at one time, if that’s what they send against us. We are most vulnerable if they find the Koban system. Because we don’t know if they have, we need to keep a strong force here at home.

“Even with the new unexpectedly potent Scouts, the five Mark II class ships, and the operational clanships, we have less than five thousand eight hundred fighting ships. The Prada shifted most ship production to Scouts, which can fight with their gravity projectors, and they turn out nearly eight a week. Our clanships will take on the supply of missiles, anti-ship mostly, but heavier ground attack types as well, now that we learned that Scout gravity weapons lose focus and their control fades in stronger gravity fields.

“What about the larger and more powerful projectors, like on your new Mark?”

“I ran a test, and we deeply penetrated the surface of Kratos with a three-foot diameter black hole, to add a new small crater on its rear side. A Scout was unable to do that with even a tightly focused one inch event horizon.”

“You fired on our moon?” Stewart sounded horrified.

“Relax, we can terminate a black hole by cutting off projector power, or sending the mathematical polarization twist to rotate it out of Normal Space. We wouldn’t risk collapsing our moon. Now we know the Mark II’s have the power to attack the surface of a lunar mass, and perhaps the surface of a terrestrial planet.”

“How did the Dismantlers disrupt the centers of super Jovians?”

“Stewart, those ships are three times the size of the Mark II’s, and their gravity projectors take up a full quarter of their entire volume. We did not design our ships to need that much gravitational power, which would reduce the cargo hauling capacity, and carry fewer passengers. We didn’t think about using the projectors as weapons when they were designed. We wanted to unload and move cargo at our colony planets that would be without orbital stations. The Dismantlers weren’t built for commercial use, they were tools to obtain raw materials to build the giant habitats for the Olt’kitapi.”

“I bet you wish you had a bigger war tool right now.”

“Wishing won’t help us, and we don’t have time to design and build even larger warships. I need to get up to orbit and start organizing and planning. We’ll have time to talk after we Jump. It’s a full day to the nearest Prada world of One Land, and we only have five hundred clanships there now, with fifty Prada crewed Scouts that we pulled from our own fleet.”

“What if the Finth attack either of the other two Prada colonies?”

“No more than an hour’s Jump to either one. Besides, six of our border patrol boats were diverted from the Empire’s border, with three placed above the galactic plane, three below, near the Prada worlds. We should see a large fleet coming more than an hour away.”

“Good idea, but I didn’t know about, or authorize that.”

“No, one of your low-level administrators did, yesterday. At the request of your highly placed and trusted Secretary of Defense, Fleet Admiral, Head Honcho, or whatever the new damned title you managed to assign me behind my back this month. Good old Captain Mirikami still has some influence around here, ya know. Besides, I sent Maggi in my name. Nobody wins an argument with the Tiger Lady.”

“I’ll tell her you called her that.”

“I’ll deny it to the dimpled darling, also known as Mighty Mite, and send her to talk to you about your use of those awful pejorative terms. You’d best be wearing armor, and a cup. See ya later Stew.” And Mirikami cheerfully headed off to a nice safe war.

****

Cossfass Thisster was enjoying the view of the galaxy from an unusual perspective, a thousand lightyears out of the plane of its disk. It made his first taste of unfettered dominance more exhilarating. In one sense, it wasn’t as dominate a view as he’d like, because it was really considered a view from the underside of the Milky Way, on its magnetic south side. But that was a trivial matter of biased perspective, since it looked as identical to him as a view from the north side, because to him he seemed to be slightly above the vast barred spiral. He could see the filmy edge of the central bulge of core stars in its glory, swelling much higher than his position, roughly fifteen thousand light years away.

Intellectually aware that he was only the alpha male of the Beta clan, nevertheless, he was leading the Finth Sky Hunters fleet, as its Dominant Flight Commander.

It was a rare opportunity for any Finth, with the actual Dominate One, Fissloss Slassler, and his coleaders of the Alpha clan, the Stalkers of Sissbalt, relegated to a homeland defense role, when such a defense appeared to be highly unnecessary. The Thandol truly needed their Security Forces to soften this new enemy, of unknown strength, apparently ruling a large expanse of stars that was perhaps two thirds the volume the Empire currently claimed.

His Beta leader, Hassler Kisstas, was relishing the same view, but posed a needed question, despite its negative implication for their mission, and expectations of earning battlefield glory.

“Will you turn back the fleet, and return to Home Den? As Fissloss demanded?”

The instantaneous message had arrived a day ago, while they were in Jump status on the second and longest parallel track of their journey to their target.

The answer was firm. “No! Had Slassler sent the message before our position check at the first exit point, prior to our Jump to fly parallel to the disk, we were only one thousand lightyears from home, and a short time away from defending them. The attack at home might have only paused, and could have resumed at any moment. We would have been compelled to Jump to Home Den for its defense then.

“But, the transmissions can only reach us while in Tachyon Space, and only three ships of the fleet have tachyon receivers. The Delta and Gama pack leaders heard the order to return, but none of the thousands of fleet units would know, and they would have continued to this predetermine waypoint, many thousands of lightyears and more than four cycles away from Home Den. If the pack leader’s three ships turned back, the rest of the fleet would be out here anyway, leaderless, and not know how to proceed. We all decided to stay with the fleet.

“We have the advantage now of knowing that the attacks at Home Den ended three cycles ago, and the small number of enemy ships, having demonstrated their anger, have withdrawn. We are only one thousand lightyears from the Prada planet, a half cycle from attacking the enemy that came to us uninvited, attacked us, and then ran away.”

“Good. The other subleaders and I agree with your assessment.” Kisstas had already conferred with the Delta and Gamma leaders of their own Superior Predators pack, so presenting a united front, the Beta pack of the Finth wanted to attack the enemy.

It was likely the Gamma pack, the Killers of Prey, would make the same choice. The weakest group, the Delta pack, named the Tribalt Hunters, were currently aligned with the Alpha pack. To turn back now, when the threat at home had evaporated, and their prey was so close, it was probable they too would vote to attack. That left only the Sky Hunter ships commanded and crewed by members of the Stalkers of Sissbalt. They would need to return home in the face of the other less dominant packs, who would presumably be earning glory here, in combat.

Seeing them facing the old cliché, of being caught between an avalanche or jumping from a cliff, made their dilemma delightful for the other three packs. The Alpha pack would suffer internal fractures if they stayed, or if they returned home as the Alpha leader had ordered the entire fleet to do.

“I will contact the other pack leaders when we next emerge, and tell them of our decision. I have little doubt that they will eventually join us, even if we must convince the Stalkers to stay with us. We will see the Prada cower before our attacks in but another cycle.”

****

Carol was puzzled. “Are they afraid to attack? I wouldn’t expect the Finth to cower from anyone, and certainly not the Prada.”

Sergey agreed. “They’ve been paused below the disk for almost a full day. They started out with determination. What happened?”

Mirikami, who had convened the group Comtap link, suggested a reason as he fingered his lower lip in thought. “You may be responsible, Carol. Your Scout squadron, I mean. At T-cubed travel speed along their extended track, they should have been almost halfway here when your ships hit their shipyards, orbital docks, Stranglers and random ships left behind at their home star.”

“So? They didn’t hesitate to attack us there, at Pack Command. They aren’t an introspective species. They had at least a day or two to talk matters over before their exit out there. Now they took a day delay to think things over?”

Mirikami shrugged. “I don’t think they could talk it over with all their ship commanders. They don't have Comtaps with access to low energy tachyon modulation, and only a few of their ships will have the tachyon receiver/transmitters. You said they’re factional, with four major political divisions, or packs as they call them. It might take them time to decide on the proper course of action now. They left their home worlds nearly defenseless with their fleet gone. What if we hit them again?”

“We can’t do that, we’re all here…,” she reconsidered. “Well, all the spare forces we can bring to bear are here. The rest are also defending other Federation worlds. Why didn’t they make up their minds now, after a day?”

“They don’t know how thin we’re spread, and the instantaneous Tachyon Space communications of the Empire only function when the equipped ships are in Jump status. We know the Ragnar don’t have that technology on all their ships, and I doubt if the Finth do either. The Thandol can’t trust their security forces with that much flexibility. They randomly inspect security force ships for forbidden weapons and other technology. The Finth couldn’t talk matters over with their entire fleet until they made a preplanned exit to Normal Space, for final coordination with all their factions.

“Thanks to your squadron, I think they had a lot more to talk about, and a decision to make. It can work to our advantage. The patrol boat AI that detected their approach provided us the position and size of their formation. If Thad’s and Wister’s two squadrons can make their appearance before the Finth Jump inward, they’ll suddenly have more to think about.

“After I shared your crew’s Mind Taps and frills of the two Finth you caught, I’m convinced their natural pride, and innate species aggression will win out, and they’ll launch their attack. They are impulsive, somewhat like the Krall. Why Jump for home, to defend against attackers that have departed?”

****

Thisster wasn’t pleased with the fleet’s new segmented disposition. “I should not have granted the Stalkers the right to lead the first wave. He used the orders to return home to their advantage, to let Alpha Pack lead if we continue the attack. If their captains did not have command of six hundred of our eight hundred Eaters, they would still have attacked second, behind our seven hundred thirty Carnivores and seventy Eaters leading the way. I am the Dominant Flight Commander, and I still should lead the attack, even if in front of the Stalkers formation.”

He continued his complaints. “Agreeing to let the four packs change our integrated fleet forces to group by clan was a bad compromise, or else the Stalkers would have returned to Home Den, as an unnecessary defense force. I no longer have the flexibility and authority I should have, based on the original hurried plans the Thandol forced us to make. Now we have this last moment improvisation, of four separated packs taking turns in the attack.

Kisstas, his second in command of the thousand ships of the Superior Predators pack component, offered a half sarcastic comment. “Those heavy cruisers, with their single fixed massive plasma cannons, are inaccurate during low atmospheric passes. They cannot alter aim without effecting their track through the sky. They might fire on this flagship if we were below them and in the lead, they would claim it was an error.”

“The other packs would not believe that.”

“We would not be there to argue our case, so the outcome of the debate would not matter to us.” He hissed in sour amusement, and added an observation.

“It may not benefit the Stalkers to go first anyway. The initial pass may not even strike the most strategic targets. The single Thandol scouting mission, conducted beyond the outer planets of this star, reveals there is only a single continent on the Prada world. It is roughly a ring around the equator of the planet, with but one shallow gap that joins the northern and southern seas. Only five cities have spaceports, and the scout ship would not approach closer to learn details of their defenses. The Thandol were too cautious.”

Having been better briefed, Thisster explained their reasons. “The Empire lacks the Federation’s superior stealth, and the Thandol High Command said the Ragnar learned that enemy sensors can faintly detect stealthed Empire ships. The scout could not risk seeking where the Prada’s strongest defenses were based, without revealing our discovery of a new Federation world. There are no massive orbital defenses, which, if they helped fight the Krall, should have been present. The Thandol say they could have been destroyed in that recent war.”

Thisster curled a lip in rejection of a stupid Thandol opinion. “The Kobani, who spoke to the Ragnar, said the Prada were freed from Krall servitude. They could not have fought in that war, and were slaves for over twenty thousand orbits. They are weaklings and cowards.”

Kisstas shivered his hairy head crest in agreement. “If they have weak space defenses, we will punish their laxity. Perhaps we should have brought our Stalker Troopships, with a half million Hunters of the Forest, and ten thousand Crawlers. With but a single continent, and a few large islands, we would own the planet in forty cycles.”

“The Thandol would punish us for that, and we would lose our right to collect taxes from a portion of the annexed species.”

“Someday we will break their shackles.”

“Yes. But today we have a new enemy to punish, as a proxy for the Thandol, and new glory to earn in battle.”

He looked at his consoles on the bridge of his flagship. Each pack had eight hundred ships, the Stalkers having strung out in a thick column of their ships at the front, their six hundred heavily armed and armored Eaters in the lead, with two hundred Carnivore light cruisers spread around them, for an overly thin escort against peripheral attackers.

The other packs had from fifty to seventy Eaters each, with the remainder of their eight hundred ships comprised of Carnivore light cruisers, with the Super Predators Beta pack now positioned second, then the Killers of Prey, and the Tribalt Hunters grouped last.

Despite Thisster’s wishes, the groups were in the same order of pack dominance of the current Finth society, of Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta rankings. He’d been forced to yield the lead the Beta pack should have had, based on his overall Command. That was done to keep the Stalkers with the fleet, and retaining their large heavy cruiser contingent.

He waited to issue the order to Jump to the Prada world, while the previously integrated forces completed reorganizing into the four pack groupings.

He suddenly gained an appreciation of his position as leader of the second group.

****

“Wister. I gave you and your ten ships the honor of first defense of One Land. Don’t wait. Fire, before they Jump again!” Greeves was annoyed, calling him via one of the hand devices the Prada used for instantaneous long range tachyon communications.

Thad’s ten Kobani crewed Scouts would have fired the instant they made their own stealthy exit, only fifty or so miles from the side of the vanguard of the three thousand two hundred ships of the Finth fleet. Startling enough, the enemy had positioned many of the choicest targets conveniently together, right at the front of their elongated clumpy formation, like plums to be picked, hanging there in space.

It was the slower reactions of the Prada that made the shooting seem so long before it started to Greeves. All they had needed to do was issue the commands to their AIs. They finally did that, selected targets, and project small, fist sized event horizons, which promptly swept at high speed through the center of each enemy ship targeted, puncturing one or more fusion bottles.

The exploding, ultra-high pressure, stellar core temperature plasma, first vented into the engineering sections, started vaporizing everything it contacted once outside their powerful confining magnetic fields. Organics need not even be touched to break their weak molecular bonds, and the technical crews of the Finth engineering sections were never aware of what killed them.

The bulkheads that were penetrated to reach the fusion generators, passed the terrible ravening fires through to adjacent compartments, cooling as the plasma expanded, but it retained its lethal heat and glowing radiation, deadly to organics. The plasma remnants erupted in long streams, through the entry and exit holes made in the thick hulls of the Eaters. Armored hulls that were like thin tissue to the short range but immense gravity of the small black holes that drew that crystal lattice matter into the holes in space-time.

The Kobani waited only until the ten Prada generated black holes had dealt visible fatal blows. Then they drove their own hungry space-time holes through multiple ships in a savage frenzy of destruction, taking advantage while the Finth fleet was all but frozen in space, apparently distracted, as it drifted at a high velocity, which seemed imperceptible compared to the galactic disk a thousand lightyears away. In just under a half minute, three hundred twenty-seven heavy cruisers died, and sixty-two light cruisers with them, that were conveniently in-line with the preferred heavier and deadlier targets.

Even without Kobani nervous systems, the Finth were fast, and their AI’s even faster. Thisster, realizing the forward element of his disorganized fleet was being ambushed, quickly ordered the entire fleet to Jump, which, because it was relayed to the command AI’s for proper coordination, was executed by the still operational ships of the fleet instantly.

The damaged ships, tachyon power lost, unable to Jump and Normal Space drives disabled, still had operational AI’s, and backup fusion bottles for emergency power. The AI’s were insulated in the separately armored bridges at the bows where some of the command crew members survived.

They used what weapons were still operational, and that remained connected to fire control computers, seeking enemy targets. Several fired the heavy plasma cannons placed in the nose of Eaters, but there were no target detections, it was simply that if there was any chance to hit an invisible enemy, it was better than not surviving long enough to fire the weapon at all.

That didn’t mean they found nothing to aim at with the more flexible weapons systems. Scout hulls remained undetectable to Finth sensors. However, the movements of gravitational anomalies, generated at a point in space, and subsequently moved along a linear path to penetrate a Finth ship, presented a traceable line to mass sensors, which if extended backwards from the origin of the trace, might point to where the ship that had generated the black hole was, or had been.

A Kobani pilot was always a dynamic flyer, in that their ships were kept in constant motion, changing direction at unpredictable intervals, performing micro Jumps, because they all had received Mind Taps from the most successful Kobani combat pilots.

The Prada had received Mind Tap training, but didn’t have wolfbat memory matrix retention, nor a superconducting nervous system for the rapid execution of maneuvers, and no practical combat experience. Not all of them were so negligent, but four pilots, so enthralled by the sight of the exploding destruction, they failed to alter course before firing again, and yet again, believing if they maintained a linear motion in coast, that this was enough to confuse the enemy. If not for the Finth AI systems, that might have proven correct.

The Prada lost four Scouts before Greeves shouted at them via their tachyon communication devices, to Jump back to One World, to chase after the enemy fleet.

Greeves linked to Mirikami, to warn him of what was coming his way.

“Tet, we found the Finth fleet, three thousand two hundred strong, close to where the patrol boat said they were. They seemed in a state of disarray, in the process of reorganizing their arrival formation into four distinct formations, something I’d think should have been determined before they departed Home Den.

“The lead formation is the only one we hit in the thirty seconds they gave us, before they executed a strangely delayed Jump. The ones that Jumped did so precisely together, and the patrol boat AI told us the tachyon wave is moving in your direction. You have about four minutes to prepare.”

“How many and how grouped, Thad?”

“My AI says the forward group of eight hundred ships had the largest collection of Heavy cruisers, their Eater class. There were six hundred of those, screened by two hundred Carnivores. If they intended to make that first group conduct the hardest hitting pass, with their increased firepower, it’s missing three hundred twenty-seven heavy units, and sixty-two light cruisers. Expect four hundred eleven ships in the first wave, two hundred seventy-three of those are Eaters.

“The remaining three groups have far fewer Eaters, about sixty each on average, with the remainder of the eight hundred ships in each group being Carnivores. Thanks to their slow reaction and our surprise arrival, we killed about 12 percent of their total force, the heavy cruisers taking the brunt of the kills.”

“So, the Prada fought well, then?”

“Tet, they fought well enough for the first time, and I believe hit every target they went after, but we lost four of them because they failed to alter course after they started their firing runs. They became predictable. I have no doubt the six survivors will take to heart our flying advice on the short trip back to One Land. My ten ships had no losses.”

The trepidation was clear in Mirikami’s next question. “Whister’s Scout?” The second eldest Prada had led the first of his people to face combat, at least in thousands of years. He was a very influential member of their race, a Federation Council member, and a longtime friend of Tet and Maggi.

“He’s fine, but shaken by how fast combat decisions need to be made. I’ll reassure him that they’ll do better now they’ve had this experience, and he’ll surely pass along the hard lessons learned to the four other Prada squadrons. With only a pilot, and a weapons director for the AI system, they have no complicated elder hierarchy to filter decisions through, so long as the pilot is always the eldest, and there is only one subordinate.

“The pilot selects the targets, and he or she releases the weapons director to advise the AI on what they want it to do. Maggi’s suggestion about limiting crew structure may have saved more of their Scouts, because of that time saving simplification. I think adding more Prada to combat crews could result in deferment of instantaneous decision making, when other various aged team members could have conflicting opinions, they might pause to consult. That may work OK for manufacturing decisions, but not in combat.”

“I assume your ships have Jumped inbound as well?”

“All but one Scout, Tet. I ordered Jorl Breaker and his crew to stay behind for a short time. I want a prisoner from one of the heavy cruisers, a captain, if any survived. A Mind Tap from a prisoner isn’t likely to happen before their fleet reaches One Land in a few minutes, but any information might be useful if we can’t drive them away quickly.”

“Thanks to your information, knowing they’ll come in four groupings, I’m redistributing forces. The sixty Scouts here, and five Mark II’s will be in one group to greet the first arrivals with event horizons poised to hit the Finth hard when they emerge.

“Your ten Scouts and the six Prada ships will be following on their heels, attacking the final group from behind. In the last two hours, we barely managed to get half loads of missiles distributed to our two thousand clanships, but only twenty of the novae bombs. It may be selfish, but I left most of those bombs on our ships based around Koban and Haven.

“Here, A thousand clanships each will attack the two middle groups, and then focus on the final group as they approach.

“We aren’t as badly outnumbered here as I feared, since they didn’t bring as many total ships as the Ragnar sent to Tanner’s, and no destroyer class ships. However, all these are fighting warships, and none are troop landers or supply vessels. Their anti-ship missiles and energy beam defenses can’t block our black holes, formed by eighty-one independent gravity projector ships. We produce one steerable black hole at a time if we use both projectors, but clanships can fire salvos of missiles.

“The Finth will need to dance damned fast, with frequent turns and micro Jumps. They will have some success on ground attacks, because there are no defenses at all on the surface. What they fire at down there will be hit, I’m afraid, and only one city currently has cloud cover and precipitation today. That will reduce enemy laser and plasma hits at that settlement.”

Thad said, “Wister told me the Prada citizens here are mostly living in the forest trees at the edges of the cities they’ve been clearing and restoring. I think he fears the destruction of historical sites and clues to their lost past more than the risks to their still sparse population. We’ll do our best to keep the Finth so busy protecting their own musky asses that they won’t be able to do the damage they expect.”

Mirikami agreed. “Nawella has organized the Prada living in the trees, and they pre-coated the trunks and undergrowth nearest the old cities with fire retardant. It seems unlikely the Finth will target trees deliberately, since they wouldn’t know where the Prada traditionally live.”

Sarge broke in on the conversation, from his Scout with the Prada One Land defenders. “I hope the Prada have some resentment stored up, after letting the Krall use them so callously for so long. We’ll find out today if the little fur balls will fight.”

“I suppose we will.” Tet sounded tentatively hopeful

“Yep, I saw signs of that out here,” Thad added.

They were metaphorically whistling in the dark, to keep bad thoughts at bay. The Prada were half expected to become bystanders in this fight, offering only a weak resistance to these vicious predators.

****

Sissposs Mitrass, ranking Commander of all the Eaters assigned to the Stalkers of Sissbalt, was raging at the impertinence of the Dominant Flight Commander, Thisster.

“That Beta pack weakling, he Jumped the entire fleet before our honor could be avenged against those hiding Federation carrion eaters.”

The AI’s of the entire fleet had been linked to the flagship’s AI, to coordinate the simultaneous Jumps of such a sizable fleet assembly. Except, this Jump was to have been executed only after the now segmented pack groups had announced they were in proper position, with all weapons at the ready, and they had matched the Normal Space motion of the target planet before Jumping through Tachyon Space.

Because of his position at the very front of Alpha pack’s newly designated individual task force, the explosions and loss of the ships of his pack, at his rear, had gone unnoticed on the bridge screens. The external view was oriented to show the galaxy to their front, and mainly displayed the distant cloud of stars of the Orion Spur, where the Federation worlds would be found.

His first awareness that an attack was underway came long seconds after it had silently begun, hitting ships behind him in the formation. It was radio calls from Eaters that had been hit, or had witnessed the brilliant eruptions of glowing plasma from other ships that alerted him. His first act was to order his own ship’s weapons active, and for sensors to actively scan for alien targets. Only the Beta pack flagship was receiving automated reports from every fleet element, because that had been how the integrated forces were normally designed to report.

The extent of losses, and how unbalanced they were distributed wasn’t apparent to Mitrass before the normal Universe blinked out, and his newly designated Alpha task force was rotated into Tachyon Space. He’d intended to have some level of control and coordination bestowed on himself, just for the Alpha pack ships, even if overall fleet strategy and target decisions would remain delegated to Thisster. He only knew that some Alpha pack ships, which should be under his local command, had been attacked and damaged, and before he could learn how many, how seriously hurt, and where the enemy was, his ability to respond and counterattack was taken from him.

“I can’t even speak to my Alpha ship commanders, because we are in Jump status until we reach the enemy star system. I should have had a ship with a tachyon transmitter and receiver.” His anger caused him to overlook the fact that his other Alpha ships, lacking the required receivers, would be unable to receive his orders. He turned to his second in command.

“Ensure all weapons systems are active, and prepared to fire at the enemy the instant we exit Tachyon Space. Our nose cannon already has a fully charged plasma chamber. Instruct Weapons Control that I want it fired as soon as the enemy planet is on our screens, and any city is sighted. I will yield ship orientation long enough for them to aim the cannon before we enter atmosphere. The first heavy plasm bolt will be ours.

“Sire,” his number two said, “I saw several bolts fired past us just before we rotated out of Normal Space, perhaps at enemy ships we could not see. Their chambers will not be ready to fire another bolt when we exit.” None of them was aware that those ships would not be following them.

A disadvantage of the enormous energy an Eater put into each plasma bolt, launched from the large bore of their nose cannon, was the minutes of recharge time for the oversized heated magnetic confinement chamber. The large plasma bolts, created from nearly twenty pounds of feed stock, however, were deadlier than any fired from other shipborne plasma cannons in the Empire, including those from the giant Crushers of the Thandol. Its raw power thrilled the Finth love of dominance.

“The calculated Jump coordinates should cause us to exit at a half diameter from the Prada world. Our velocity was not yet matched to the orbit of the world around its star, so our Normal Space drive will need to adjust our speed when we emerge. Order all crew to secure for uncompensated acceleration.”

They now had barely a minute to wait. It went slowly, but the minutes after that one passed far too swiftly for his liking.

****

“Here the bastards come,” was Sarge’s wholly unnecessary pronouncement.

Two thousand eight hundred eleven Finth warships winked into existence, just over three thousand miles below the planet, moving from galactic south, producing no gamma rays to reveal their emergence. Nevertheless, the ghostly images of their partially detected stealthed hulls revealed the nearly twelve-mile clumpy length of their elongated formation to the waiting Federation craft.

The leading group of ships, of the four clusters Greeves had described, held four hundred eleven warships; two hundred seventy-three Eater class heavy cruisers, with a hundred thirty-eight Carnivore class light cruisers.

Oddly, that lead formation seemed misshapen. It had what resembled a sizable “bite” removed from one side. That nibble was courtesy of the first strike delivered by the Federation Scouts, who had hit it from that side.

The waiting Federation ships already shared the orbital velocity of One Land, but the hastily Jumped Finth fleet did not. The Finth ships, when they emerged in Normal Space, were moving retrograde, away from the spot in space occupied by the Prada world, which was orbiting nearly in the opposite direction. They needed to chase the planet, gaining twenty-six miles per second in Normal Space just to return to their original thirty-one hundred miles from the surface.

There was no point in firing at the planet at that range, and the flagship AI commanded every ship to accelerate, using their Normal Space drives to reverse their track, and close with the target world. The velocity mismatch caused almost as many problems as Alpha clan’s disruption of the original formation, and the rushed Jump caused by the Federation ambush.

This wasn’t going quite as well as planned back at Home Den. They should have emerged with a high velocity towards the planet, but they had been forced to Jump before that was accomplished in Normal Space. Now they were being exposed to fire from an enemy force for a longer period before they would be in position to shoot at surface targets. An enemy force which they had not expected, because one had not been reported by the Thandol reconnaissance. And this was supposedly a surprise attack!

The Feds weren’t as prepared as they thought they were either. The gathered intercept fleet wasn’t aware that the Finth had not followed standard Jump procedures, to match their real space velocities with their moving target’s motion. Thus, the Finth fleet flew through one formation of the gathered opposing ships in the first seconds of their arrival.

The forty Prada Scouts, poised to attack the Finth where the AI’s tracking their advance tachyon wave predicted they would likely emerge, were suddenly mixed in among the enemy ships, flashing by them too fast for the pilots to select a target for their weapons director. The Prada pilots of the agile Scouts, with superior inertial compensation for the occupants, acted to match the miles per second velocity differential, which was aided by the Finth’s own action to reverse course to close with the receding planet. In a confluence of coincidences, the Prada craft quickly found themselves inside a formation of enemy ships, a rich target environment, where they were matching speeds with the enemy.

The Prada pilots selected targets, the weapons directors sent their previously formed black holes at them, and discovered the hazards of operating in debris fields of their own creation, and of how dangerous it was to be so close to a combative enemy that fired towards any invisible source of nearby mass. It wasn’t the Scout’s mass being detected, but the black holes were originating relatively close to the gravity projectors that generated them. There were many near misses from lasers and smaller plasma cannons, making the environment extremely dangerous for small unarmored ships. Random chance was going to strike at any moment, and they needed to either micro Jump away to gain the safety of distance, or find another solution to continue their attacks.

Each squadron of ten Prada craft had an elder captain in charge of their group actions, and one of them, named Swinther, was a more imaginative pilot than most Prada. From her up-close observation of one of the massive Eaters as it passed close to her, she noticed the thick armor, stubby atmospheric winglets on the sides, and a pair of vertical tail fins. She was on the verge of a micro Jump to get away from debris spurting from a half dozen other Finth ships, but hated to pull so far away from the targets she most wanted to destroy. The Finth were starting to take evasive action, so she acted quickly.

With a flash of insight, she did something that might seem improbable to even a Kobani. She found a place to shelter her small fragile craft from most debris, and assured that she would remain within the enemy formation, where targets were plentiful. She matched velocity with the Eater, and flew between its tail fins from the rear. The Scout was behaving like a Tick Bird, which she had observed often on Haven, before moving to One land. She touched a seldom used console docking switch, just as the Scout contacted the metallic crystal surface of the enemy hull. The magnetic plates under the stealth coating activated, and held them securely attached.

Like Tick Birds, which sit on the rumps of Water Hogs, the hippo analogues living in Haven rivers, she was along for the ride. The size mismatch was much the same, although, instead of eating parasites and benefiting the host, her Scout became an invisible parasite that attacked the neighbors of her host.

The high fins to either side, and the swelling bulk of the Eater’s hull ahead, would shield her fragile craft from most debris. She designated a target for her weapons controller, who formed a fresh black hole nearby, and plunged it into the body of Carnivore flying parallel to them.

As that enemy ship spewed its plasma guts, she passed her knowledge to the other Prada pilots, and spoke to a Kobani who had been teaching her how to fly a Scout the past few weeks.

“Alyson, this is Swinther. Let me tell you what I did.”

****

“Alyson, you want me to do what?” Mirikami didn’t understand her urgent request in the slightest. “Why do you want us to hold our fire on the lead heavy cruisers?”

“Not all of them, Sir. You need to have your AI flag the ones that I identify for you. They have eight Prada Scouts literally sitting on their tails. Don’t risk hitting them with missiles, beams or black holes. At least temporarily.”

She sent him highlighted sensor images of the eight enemy icons she had electronically marked. Which he then fed to Jake for distribution to the rest of the Federation ships. The clanships in the fleet were focusing their attacks on the other three clusters of Finth ships anyway.

The Prada had been granted their request of meeting the lead attackers, with Kobani Scouts ready to take on the entire fight at the front if the Prada got into trouble.

Six of the Mark II class ships were poised ahead, just outside atmosphere, stealthed of course, waiting for the Finth ships to slow down as they ripped into the Thermosphere and Mesosphere, where they would be forced to greatly decelerate, using their Normal Space drives.

The more powerful gravity projectors on the Mark IIs would be able to send larger black holes deeper into the gravity well, to pick off the slowing ships.

Mirikami, sounding somewhat annoyed, asked, “If the Scouts are on their trail, why don’t they just shoot them and pull away?”

“Not on their trail, Sir. They are literally sitting on their tails. Magnetically attached with docking plates. Eight of them. And they appear to be turning that lead cluster of Finth ships into their personal shooting gallery.”

Mirikami shook his head. “I wish I understand what you are talking about, and why they did that. Send me a mental picture.”

“I’ll make one up, since I’m not close enough to see it myself, and the Prada don’t have Comtaps or Mind Tap. Swinther described it for me.”

An image arrived. “Oh. Most of a squadron landed on the back ends of some of the Eaters? Why?”

Alyson explained how the squadron got merged with the Finth in the first place, and that two Prada Scouts were probably lost to collision with debris in the close contact combat.

Impressed, he asked, “They’ve been hitting ships from there? All those lead ships are twisting and turning, as they close with One Land. But I see they have stayed clustered for mutual defense from the missiles they expected, which are only being fired at the trailing three waves. I saw many of the event horizon hits on their forward group, and I assumed the Prada had improved their piloting and shooting skills, or that your squadron had taken over.”

“Oh, we’ve taken our shots, at the rear of the clump, but all the kills at the center and front came from the Prada, particularly Swinther’s surviving eight Scouts. I’m proud of them.”

“If the Finth figure out where they are, somebody’s going to shoot at them.”

“That wouldn’t be easy. They still have stealth, and even if the Finth spot them somehow, they would have to fire at their own ships. Swinther says the tailfins shield them from the sides, and the body of the Eater from the bottom and front, deflecting debris away. Anytime one of the eight Scouts have a target they can see, they punch a hole through it. They lost only two scouts in her squadron so far, probably from impacts with debris, and she and her other seven Scouts have killed nineteen Carnivores and seven Eaters. And will kill the eight they ride before they leave.”

“That was incredibly clever, but those lead ships will enter atmosphere in about five minutes. I saw some Finth heavy plasma bolts fired at the only cleared city on this hemisphere that doesn’t have cloud cover. Air turbulence will sweep away the Scouts. Warn them to detach before hitting atmosphere. Shoot the asses off those ships as they pull away, then micro Jump clear of that formation. The waiting Mark II’s have some larger surprises waiting.”

****

“What are the slimy gut worms using on us? Only Alpha is being hit so hard by these mystery weapons.” When they had exited into Normal Space Mitrass had been stunned by what his sensors revealed of the disaster that had struck his Alpha pack task force. He’d uttered incoherent scream-hisses in his anger.

Not only did his displays record the massive loses that only his Alpha pack task force had suffered prior to the forced Jump, but because they exited without first matching the needed destination velocity, his ship’s navigation, and that of every ship in the fleet, had been command overridden again by the flagship AI, to accomplish the velocity matching necessary to overtake the Prada planet. His fully charged plasma cannon could have at least taken a soul satisfying shot at the Prada world, even if too far away for accuracy. With his ship forced to turn and accelerate with all the others, he couldn’t aim at the planet at all, and was pressed painfully into his couch, the lump of his sidearm pressing into his hip bone.

That indignity, and personal complaint quickly vanished, when several more ships of Alpha pack were destroyed, and a few of them spewed fragments, with the pieces striking trailing ships that accelerated into the wreckage, unable to turn away. The heavy armor of the Eaters could resist the impacts, but a few Carnivores took damage to weapons ports, and suffered some hull punctures.

The reports that other pack task forces, behind Alpha, were also being attacked wasn’t his problem or concern. No pack had been hit as severely as his group. Nevertheless, the avalanche of complaints from every group swayed the Dominant Flight Commander, and Thisster released them from navigation control by the Flagship’s AI. It wasn’t as if each ship commander couldn’t see the need for them to close with their target, but they had to be free to fight and evade the attackers as they did this.

After that, the other packs reported periodic kills of enemy ships, despite their superior stealth. Every time the enemy performed what seemed like a very risky micro Jump into a Finth formation, then fired a laser, plasma bolt, or missile, their open weapons ports and energy beams revealed them briefly. AI coordinated fire found some of the Federation ships, and destroyed or damaged them before they could turn or micro Jump away. It was still a lopsided fight in favor of the Federation, but the enemy was predominantly using clanships against the other packs.

Alpha pack wasn’t seeing the same weapons or tactics used against them. No energy beams or missiles, and the enemy stayed hidden. A gravitational anomaly was harder to detect, and less easy to trace to the source that generated the small black holes that punched through their ships. Too often the source appeared to be one of their own heavy cruisers. Clearly there was a sensor problem.

Losses to Alpha mounted, as if they were being preferentially attacked. It finally occurred to Mitrass that this was a logical tactic used by the Federation, to hit the lead element hardest, and the one with the greatest concentration of firepower that would be the most damaging to the planet. His ship commanders didn’t wait for an order from the Dominant Flight Commander to start evasive movements, and they linked their AI’s into a network, to coordinate their random turns to avoid collisions, and to permit micro Jumps without risk of intersecting with another of their ships.

At the start of the Federation attack, Mitrass and the Bridge crew heard clanging sounds from the rear of the ship, and feared they had hit some debris and suffered damage. However, engineering and damage control reported no damage, alarms, or hull breeches. Despite that reassurance, he had his pilot initiate rotation and evasive actions in coordination with the other ships of Alpha pack.

Sensors revealed nothing of the enemy ships near Alpha pack, but there were brief detections of compact high mass concentrations, which moved impossibly fast, suddenly appearing, and then vanishing suddenly, leaving punctured and damaged ships in their wakes. Behind Alpha group, there were detections of missile tracks, heavy lasers hits, and visible plasma bolts, originating from what seemed to be empty places in space, except when a weapons port was opened and briefly seen. These were clearly stealthed enemy ships that revealed where they were as they fired, and AI coordinated return fire sometimes found the stealthed attackers. The enemy was suffering loses there, even if the exchanges were lopsided in favor of the Federation.

But no enemy ships, energy beams, missiles, or weapons ports were detected within or near Alpha pack’s formation. Yet, ships were dying, and some were deep within the formation, which had smoothed out the gaps from the missing ships that never made the Jump after the first ambush.

Alpha was being attacked in a different fashion than the other groups, and it was deadlier, and more insidious. It appeared to match some of the reports relayed from the flagship, concerning the attack on docks at Home Den and New Den. The Dominant Flight Commander had not seen fit to share the details of an action that was so many thousands of light years away, and had terminated several days previously. It appeared that a similar type of mysterious weapon was being used against only the Alpha pack.

Mitrass ordered the sensor teams to watch for any patterns in the attacks, feeding the details to the flagship’s AI, to seek correlations. It didn’t take long, not at the rate they were taking damage. Except the pattern made little sense to him or his second officer. His lead sensor technician, a young female who had risen through the ranks quickly, again proved her intelligence was a greater asset than her muscles and fangs.

“The ships that are being hit are most often near one of only eight ships of our task force. Since our last exit, two thirds of the ships Alpha pack lost fell within a cylindrical volume around just those eight ships, which have not been attacked at all. It appears to be dangerous for other ships to get very near us.”

“Us? You mean this ship?”

“Yes Sire. We are one of those eight ships, and all are Eaters.”

“If they have identified us somehow, and seven other ships, why leave us untouched and attack only those that happen to be near us?”

“I have not yet found a pattern in that, Sire.”

A flaring hull rupture from a Carnivore, passing directly above the top of the rotating flagship, was flagged on the technician’s sensor screen. “There was another ship hit, Sire. That makes five hit when other ships fly near us, and I know from observing the pattern, that this one, and at least three others, were directly above us when hit.”

“We have been rotating and turning. What does that suggest to you? I know that our upper batteries are not firing on our own ships.”

“I don’t know, Sire.”

He snarled in frustration, and focused on the surface attack he was finally going to get to lead. “We are nearing the fringe of the atmosphere. We need to slow, and stabilize our rotations for wing and rudder control. I intend to hit a prominent target at the center of that city as we approach.

He returned the sensor tech to her other assigned task. “Find me a ground target that appears to be important enough to destroy. A large building, or spaceport installation. Weapons section needs to aim our main cannon.”

The reason the large Eaters had stubby wings and twin tails, was for atmospheric control when making a low pass at surface targets. The nose of the ship, and thus its powerful plasma cannon, had to be pointed directly at its target, however briefly, when the near light speed ball of dense plasma left the muzzle. After that, navigation control reverted to the pilot for evasions. The other weapons, lasers, smaller plasma cannons, and air to ground missiles, were free to fire at any time, but they had less range in atmosphere than the massive actinic ball of star material, which would rip through the air on its way to a target.

The tug of powerful deceleration pressed them forward into their chest and body restraints, as the Normal Space drive slowed them prior to nosing their armored bow into the upper atmosphere. Mitrass released ship attitude control to the Weapons Control section, which had already begun firing the secondary weapons at any artificial looking surface targets. Sensors had noted the paucity of widespread targets, which were expected to be found on any developed world. It was as if the Prada had not lived here very long.

Just before the armored cover to the main cannon port rumbled open, there was a metallic scraping sound from somewhere aft. The cannon’s port opened for its brief exposure to reentry stresses, and the sensor tech fed fresh targeting data to the ship commander for selection. He designated a sizable circular structure at the center of the still distant city. It was a city that looked surprisingly old and partly overgrown, with decay apparent. That was strange for an established and thriving society.

The first of the upper wisps of atmosphere were being encountered, when a loud ringing noise came from aft. That was accompanied by strong shudders effecting the entire ship, not caused by atmosphere buffeting on the bow.

The Weapons Control officer shouted at the pilot, “Restore my rudder control, I can’t slew the nose to my target.” Indeed, the view screens showed the bow had drifted a few degrees to the left of the target pip. The plasma bolt, if fired now, wouldn’t hit close to its target at the present two-hundred-mile range. The pilot shouted a reply. “We lost our left fin.”

That had been the loud noise from aft, as the left rudder and vertical stabilizer tore away.

Another loud tearing sound came from the right, at midship, and they lost the small ailerons on that stubby wing, causing the craft to roll towards that side.

Mitrass analyzed what was about to happen, and screamed “Fire the cannon, now!”

The ship, with a twenty-pound plasma bolt ready, launched it forward at an appreciable fraction of light velocity, and the craft and everyone inside was slammed with an instantaneous and harsh deceleration for less than a second.

That effect was fully expected when this weapon fired, and the wild and futile shot left a bluish-white streak across the sky, seen on the external screens. The bolt failed to even hit the continental mass that ringed the planet, let alone the targeted city. It exploded its energy in the sea hundreds of miles from any shore, vaporizing and ionizing thousands of tons of water.

Not that the Eater’s crew was interested, or even watching, as their ship met thicker atmosphere at an improper attitude, and yawing to the right. Leading surfaces rapidly overheating, with ionization and friction burning at the armored edges. Crystalized armor plates cracked from the heat and stress, and were shed. There wouldn’t be another firing pass for this ship. It was going down. Or at least it would have.

An unexpected event saved it from a catastrophic collision with the continent below. Or rather, a sizable event horizon did.

Forming suddenly, directly in front of the Eater, the thirty-foot-wide black hole wasn’t nearly as wide as the Eater, but the intense gravitational forces made it fit. In well under a second the speeding vessel was crushed and pulled through the event horizon by the immense gravitational force. Then, before the dangerous gravitational effects could draw in and engulf more than a tenth cubic mile of atmosphere, the object rotated out of this Universe, to vanish into Tachyon Space, where the trap field was terminated, permitting its compressed matter contents to evaporate under the onslaught of tachyons.

****

Mirikami was a bit displeased. “Alyson, tell Swinther, and the seven other Prada pilots of her squadron, that their staying attached to the Eaters until they started entering atmosphere could have cost the lives of tens of thousands of their fellow citizens on the ground.

“That delay also nearly ended her life. She detached her Scout just seconds before the slipstream would have torn them free, and it is probable the tumbling and deceleration would have killed them, or rendered them unconscious. That turbulence is probably why the weapons controller, or the AI, was unable to puncture the fusion bottles. Or, if I check with that computer, the AI may have known how dangerous that would be for them so close to the plasma ruptures while inside the atmosphere. The black hole did hit a rudder and a wing, so the Finth couldn’t aim that monster cannon. I suppose if the AI had that level of control, its safety protocols may have deliberately avoided rupturing the fusion bottles.”

“Tet, they were only trying to save lives on the ground by removing as many of the attackers as possible.”

“Did you see what the Mark IIs did to stop the lead ships? I Jumped closer to take out several ships. Had any of the Prada stayed attached any longer, I ordered those large event horizons to be formed anyway, and the Scouts would have died with their enemies. We simply couldn’t let the Eaters crash to the surface if Swinther’s Scouts damaged them too much to fly. We intended to pluck them out of space before they were even in positions to fire, but we had to wait for the Scouts to get clear.

“Ships of that size and speed, hitting a city, or just plowing into the ground, would cause as much destruction as a small thermonuclear bomb. The three large plasma bottles in each ship would rupture on impact, releasing deadly plasma into the environment, vaporizing vegetation, buildings, trees, and Prada. There could be a nuclear winter if enough smoke and dust were kicked into the atmosphere.

“It actually would be less damaging to let an Eater take their single shot with those huge cannons, and then chase them around the sky to keep them from firing smaller weapons at the inhabited areas. We could always hit them again in orbit, before they came back for a new pass.”

“But Sir, the other three groups have pulled up, and as individual units they Jumped to the outer system, where they are regrouping. Didn’t Swinther’s tactic help force that?”

“I didn’t say it was no help, but the risk to One Land would have been greatly magnified if the eight ships they rode crashed, or even exploded deeper in the atmosphere. Swinther’s ships might have been able to attack other Eaters, already committed to entering the atmosphere. But I wanted the Mark IIs to send them to Tachyon Space before that. Now that the Finth have seen that trick, micro Jumps will make it hard to replicate. Event horizons that massive take longer to form, and we can’t maneuver them as fast as a ship can turn away if they watch for them. Swallowing entire ships was a stunt I expected to work, but possibly only one time.”

Alyson passed on some fresh information. “Carson and Ethan, in the Wanderer, were leading the thousand clanships you assigned to them. They just Jumped close to the gas giant where the Finth fled. The enemy appears to be reforming a single integrated fleet. The group that led the attack have now lost over five hundred of their eight hundred ships, and an outsized percentage of the heavy cruisers were with them.”

Mirikami nodded, in an unseen gesture for Alyson. “They won’t blindly dive in like that first attack again, trying to bull their way through. That probably works when they attack planets of the subservient Empire species, but not us. They may try diverting some of our forces with Carnivores, while they Jump Eaters to the edge of atmosphere directly above the cities, for quick heavy plasma bolt strikes, and then Jump away. Or try something we haven’t thought about.”

She had been in Comtap link with other flight leaders when Mirikami and the Mark had joined the four ships forming the large Black holes, convincing the follow-on Finth packs to pull back, to come up with a less costly strategy. “Thad and Sarge say if they persist in returning to the attack, despite losses in the poorly organized first pass, they can render the five cities the Prada have started restoring into rubble. That would be worse than what the millennia of neglect caused. That would break the Prada’s heart and spirit, after discovering their original home, seeing examples of their former culture, and starting to learn their lost language.”

“We’ll be here for them through that,” he reminded her. Although he had a grudging admission to make. “If the Empire sends more fleets against our other worlds, with perhaps four or five fleets this same size, we can’t be everywhere at once. I’d like to convince the Finth to go home.”

Alyson thought they were considering a withdrawal. “We hit them harder than they hit us, by a large margin. Perhaps they’re talking over breaking off their assault.”

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “That apparently isn’t part of their psychological makeup. Unfortunately, from the Mind Tap Jorl performed on an Eater commander, which he and his crew captured, they are rather like the Krall in one respect. They are nearly incapable of backing down in the face of threats or intimidation. They either have to be thoroughly defeated, or provided another biological built-in imperative to alter the focus of their natural aggression.”

“Sir, I don’t want to sound negative, but I don’t think we can come close to wiping them out, not with the other parts of our fleet dispersed around other worlds. One Land won’t be captured, but there may not be anything left for the Prada to restore.”

He nodded. “We can only make it costly for them, and for us for that matter. That’s why I’m going to try to change their focus. Carol Slobovic encountered their relentless aggression characteristic, triggered when she landed on Home Den to talk to them, and they promptly attacked, refusing to have a discussion. Our mere presence, uninvited on Home Den, was an affront to them they could not accept.

“She later Mind Tapped two Finth they captured, and she may have a better grasp of what motivates them than what I obtained from the arrogant minds of our Thandol prisoners.”

“What did Carol say? I noticed her squadron has also Jumped out near Carson, ready to resume an attack if they seem intent on hitting One Land again. The Finth still have over two thousand six hundred ships. They destroyed thirty-two clanships, and eleven more Prada Scouts that couldn’t maneuver fast enough. I don’t think we can tolerate anywhere nearly the level of losses the Empire can endure.”

“No, we can’t take many losses,” he agreed, “not even at a twelve to one exchange, like today. Reckless attacks haven’t worked for them, which is something the Thandol and Ragnar have learned, and we’re still teaching the Finth. They will learn the lessons, build more ships, and fight more cautiously. They can out-build us on ships by a large margin. We don’t know if the PU is going to get into the fight soon enough to save our bacon. Their production capability and manpower would make it a closer fight.”

“Well,” Alyson said, dispirited, “the PU isn’t with us yet, so we have to keep trading punches, it looks like.”

“Maybe not. After Carol exchanged Mind Tap data from Jorl about his prisoner, she proposed something that she thinks could work, provided she understands Finth priorities well enough. It’s worth a try.

“I’m going to let her talk to the Finth in that pidgin version of Thandol, which is the only common language we have with them. Unless they possibly understand Fotrol, the Ragnar language. If the phrasing of her threat works, they might leave for home.”

“You just said they don’t back away from threats.”

“Not to them personally. She won’t make that error this time.”

****

“Dominant Flight Commander, the enemy force that followed us have unstealthed their ships, and are transmitting to us in Thandol.”

Thisster was startled by the report from his communications officer. “That confirms they know little of us, if they cannot translate into Slithan.” He conveniently forgot that he knew nothing about what languages were spoken in the Federation. They hadn’t come here to talk anyway. You show weakness to an enemy if you came to talk first, thus exposing your throat to attack. If you then threaten an enemy from that position of weakness, you invite an attack. If they dared threaten him and his fleet, he would leap at their exposed throats.

“If they are not surrendering, I don’t care what they have to say. I’ll listen when they beg us to stop killing them.” Another convenient bit of amnesia, since this enemy had kicked the shit out of them so far, with far fewer losses on their part.

“The one speaking says they followed our fleet from Den Home, and New Den, and they provided the coordinates of our star, using the Thandol system of navigation. They are accurate.”

“That means nothing. We are not in hiding. Many species in the Empire know where our three stars are located.”

“Sire, they say they just came from Home Den after conducting an attack on our space facilities after we left, and then followed us here. We do know our home system was attacked, and then the enemy left quickly. They say that while we traveled below the disk of the galaxy, they came here directly, to have time to prepare the first ambush while we paused to reorganize. How would they know all that if they were not the ones who attacked Home Den, and be ready for our arrival here?”

“Let me hear the translation from the start.”

He listened to the recording, and the Federation speaker finished by saying they would wait a short time for a reply. He was reluctant to talk to them, and was inclined to restart an attack, but the final words of the speaker forced him to reconsider.

It had said, “Your home world is still unprotected. Only ten of us went there to talk. Many more of us will return if you fail to listen now. We will not be talking when we arrive there.”

Thisster opened the same radio channel, and had his words in Slithan translated into the despised trumpeting of the Thandol. “You will not prevent us from laying waste to the planet of the Prada. Unless you and they surrender, and accept the rule of the Thandol Emperor.”

The answer was prompt, and sharp. “We wanted to help you overthrow the Thandol, and fight along with you to weaken them. We offered this chance to the Ragnar, and are offering this to the Thack Delos. The Ragnar have not joined us, but they have not refused either. We have destroyed most of two fleets of the Thandol, in surprise attacks, both of which were larger than yours, or that of the Ragnar.

“If you refuse to halt your attack here, the ships you see watching you will depart for Home Den, and you will need to explain why you left your pack mates undefended in their dens. Alpha pack will remain dominant at home if you stay here. Go home, and the Superior Predators may become the new Alpha pack. Stalkers of Sibalt losses here proved their unworthiness to lead. Decide now.”

He grew enraged at this threat, yet it sparked his interest in elevating his pack, and the desire to protect his home den was strong. But they had challenged his leadership here, and his rage was winning. “We will eat your hearts, if you have them. We will defeat you, and kill your mates in their dens on that world you guard.”

“That is what we thought you would say. There are new forces waiting there for you, including larger warships than you can possibly defeat, but the ships out here with me will now Jump to attack your home world, which you left helpless and undefended. Goodbye.”

And without another word, or any warning, the ships gathered nearby, nearly half the size of his own fleet, winked out of this Universe.

He turned to his Sensors Officer. “Look at their tachyon wake. What direction?”

It was an agonizing moment as the data came in. “Sire, their track is in the direction of the Empire. It could be deception, and they may turn back.”

Another sensor technician suddenly had important information to relay. “Sire. The ships near the Prada world have switched off their stealth. They must have done that well before their representative here first spoke to us, because of the time delay of light to reach us. We now can see them, and there are many more ships showing around the target world, including some with great size and mass, which we did not detect earlier. They have received reinforcements, and there are nearly as many of them there as we have in our reduced fleet. The smaller fleet that was watching us is still moving directly towards the Empire.” The last remark reflected the technician’s concern for their home system.

Hormones surged, and a biological switch was thrown, and a new imperative replaced Thisster’s desire to attack his enemy here. The rage remained, but was refocused on the need to defend his den from another pack. An alien pack.

Because the radio exchange had been open for all to hear, many ship commanders had already experienced the same hormonal shift as had Thisster, and they badly wanted to race home, to defend their unguarded pack mates and dens, from a clear and present danger. He met no resistance when he called for a return home, particularly from the cowed Alpha pack, who had lost so much today. They certainly did not want to risk additional losses at home.

In a disorganized Jump, some ships rotated into their Jumps before the flagship AI issued the command override, to send them home in a coordinated formation. With only three tachyon transmitters and receivers available to the fleet, and no waypoints pre-established to communicate part way home, the ships of the fleet would be out of communication for the three days required to return to Den Home via the most direct path. The assault on One Land had ended.

****

Mirikami sighed with relief. “Well, the water loaded Migration ships looked impressive, I guess. Huge and massive, along with turning stealth off for everyone, and the arrival of shuttles and patrol boats. It looked like we’d received reinforcements, and the Torki ships look gigantic and threatening from a distance.”

“Tet, are you going to let Carson’s clanship taskforce, with Carol’s Scout squadron attached, travel all the way to Den Home?” Thad’s question revealed his worry that Mirikami was using a quarter of the Kobani fleet simply as a lure.

“Yes. They’re going all the way to Den Home, but not just to ensure the Finth ships keep following them. I ordered them to immediately conduct fast ground attacks on spaceports, on Finth shipping, military production, ground forces, that big six-sided government building, and any other military targets that Carol’s squadron sighted, but didn’t have time to attack. They should beat the Finth Fleet’s arrival by nearly an hour.

“Simply leading the Finth ships home, without conducting any sort of attack, won’t make an impression that will last. If there’s no second attack, they’ll consider us weak and afraid of them. I want to force the Finth to worry about home defense.

“I don’t want Carson or Carol to reengage their main fleet. The clanships are low on missiles anyway. They’ll attack Den Home and New Den for no more than an hour, then, before the fleet arrives home, Carson will take his taskforce to Den 3, and Carol will Jump her squadron to Den 4. The Finth are damn well going to suffer consequences for doing the Thandol’s fighting for them. We’ll force them to permanently assign more of their fleet as protection for their four planets, which means those are ships they can’t use for attacks on us.”

Sarge pointed out something he thought Mirikami had overlooked. “The Thandol and Finth won’t see Carol’s Scout squadron entering the Empire, if they’re spread out enough. But, they’re certainly going to see the clanships. Their travel monitors will probably be able to project where they’re headed. What if there’s a fleet of Smashers waiting for them?”

“I discussed that with Carson and Carol. The Thandol probably won’t risk sending a fleet to defend the Finth for two reasons. The main reason is that the Finth were once betrayed and attacked by a Thandol Emperor, when he sent their entire fleet away for an attack, like this one. The Thandol know they never recovered the full trust of the Finth, and seeing a Thandol fleet approaching their home system before our ships arrive will trigger that old distrust.

“I asked Maggi to Mind Tap the Thandol prisoners about their relationship with the Finth, and they think that history would likely lead the High Command to let the Finth handle their own problem, at least initially.

“The second reason, is that we hurt the Thandol at Rogue 2, and the PU hit the ships they moved away from Rogue 1 to that new base. They probably think that was us. They had to pull thousands of spacecraft from normal Empire security and patrol duty of their own citizens, just to replace ships in fleets they had planned to send against us. They won’t want to trade very many of their own ships trying to reduce our yet unknown strength. Wearing us down is what they want the security forces to do.

“For those reasons, I don’t think they’ll intervene immediately, unless the Finth swallow their pride and ask for their help. We only need to periodically attack each of the Finth worlds with a few Scouts to keep much of their fleet at home. A handful of Scouts may be able to tie up half the Finth Fleet.”

As a chronic complainer, Sarge rolled out a different gripe when his last one seemed addressed. “If the PU would shit, or get off the pot, we’d have their help in drawing Empire pressure away from us. If we hadn’t given them fifty Scouts, we could be hitting the Empire harder, or defending another of our planets. They conduct one lousy raid and then sit on their asses? Where are they?”

Chapter 7: PU, a Nicer Smell

“We need to get in this damn fight!” Bledso was exasperated. Her five decades in the navy made her long to go with the fleet. Assuming the fleet ever went anywhere. The “new toys” appealed to her greatly.

President Strickland smiled at her VP’s impatience. “Adriana, you are still new to politics. Issues, like giving me authorization to mobilize and use our armed forces takes time and lots of debate. At least until both houses have talked the issues to death, or some dire emergency forces their hand to vote for what they know is required.”

“Marlene, you know the Empire will deliver the dire circumstances sooner rather than later, and with the Federation stretched to the limit to protect their own planets, we can’t count on them coming to our aid again.”

“Tanner’s World, as an independent Rim world that rejected joining the PU, wasn’t exactly our obligation to defend, even if we were preparing to defend them from a Thandol invasion. The Ragnar jumped the gun on the Thandol, and caught us with our pants down. The Federation wasn’t under direct threat of major attacks then, and I’m grateful they were available to drive off the Ragnar. It blackened the eyes of those LOR naysayers that opposed our preparing to defend ourselves, because they claim the Empire is a problem the Federation brought upon themselves, and doesn’t involve us.”

“Yes, Mam. Then, thanks to your use of executive discretion after the attack on Tanner’s, you sent our new Scouts to teach the Empire the harshest lesson yet. Thanks to the gift from the Federation, our people clobbered the hell out of one of the Thandol fleets. That surprise strike, which the Emperor thinks came from some Federation base, unfortunately caused him to order all their security forces against them at the same time.

“That’s on us. We owe them. Tell that story to the public. Everyone’s already cheering the Kobani for defending Tanner’s. They’ll cheer you for making the Empire pay an additional price for attacking Human Space.

“You don’t think the LOR will accuse me of overstepping my executive authority on that raid?”

“I just suggested that you should tell them, via a public statement, that it was retaliation for the Tanner’s attack by the Empire. The Ragnar aren’t an independent force. The emperor controls them. Most of the voting public will be on your side, just as they cheered the Federation’s victory at Tanner’s. The LOR will be reluctant to alienate those voters.

“Besides, publicly showing them the images of the catastrophe those nine small Scouts delivered to the Thandol will boost navy morale, and garner pride in the public for what they accomplished.”

“I’d have to acknowledge that we lost half the squadron in the process.”

“Emphasize in your statement that wars always result in unavoidable losses and casualties. However, eleven small Scouts, and forty-one lost heroes, measured against the nearly four thousand Thandol ships, multiple repair and maintenance docks, several orbital stations, and the lives of many thousands of their military forfeited, for daring to attack Human Space. A damned high price for them.”

“I suppose I’d better take your advice. It’s partly why I wanted you as a running mate, for your military background. The Thandol must now be aware we exist, and where more of our worlds are, even if they’re confused about who governs each of them.”

Strickland was referring to reports from AI controlled navy monitor ships. They were watching for high level travel in Tachyon Space, using old navy patrol boats equipped with Federation provided instant tachyon wave communication units. Multiple boats had detected numerous tachyon wave traces of mystery ships, coming from the direction of the Empire. These were presumed to be Empire scouts, investigating Human Space. The craft had probed up to the boundary of the Hub worlds. The Empire clearly knew where many populated and highly developed worlds were located.

“I’ll make that announcement when I make the State of the Union speech to the Joint session of Parliament. I have two weeks to work on that speech, and I’d like you to work with me on talking points. Let’s tie in the progress the navy is making with modifications of our heavy and medium cruisers. Perhaps Foxworthy can send some of them to Earth, for a demonstration of their new stealth. We can land ten of them quietly on Normal Space drives, over on the mall, fully stealthed. Then reveal them to Tri-Vid cameras during my speech.

“I don’t suppose we can show off their increased performance with Kobani crews, now that we’ve removed the gel filled coffins we kept the old crews inside. Increased acceleration capability isn’t obvious watching ships maneuver overhead in orbit. Having them glow at sunset, like Mirikami showed off his clanships, would make them visible on orbit, but we don’t have four or five thousand ships ready yet. It wouldn’t be as impressive as his demonstration.”

“Nor would copying his dramatic presentation have the same impact a second time. I suppose you could publicly tear the heart out of Senator Slagart on the capitol steps.”

They both laughed for minutes after that crude remark, recalling the famous and dramatic fight between Mirikami and Telour, the Krall war leader. That fight had been recorded for posterity by dozens of Tri-Vid cameras, and rebroadcast several times a year. Usually, whenever Mirikami’s name came up, which was nearly every time the Galactic Federation was in the news. Slagart was Strickland’s staunchest opposition critic in the LOR. Her equivalent of a Krall warlord nemesis, without bloodshed thus far.

Still smiling at the lurid joke, the president said, “I don’t think the LOR opposition would fall apart as fast as the Krall war effort did, but the Majority Leader isn’t that loved by her own party lately. They’ll probably lose three seats in the Senate and their majority of one. It’s a tossup if they can hold enough seats in the House to keep a majority there. If we get control of both houses, it would be the first that DEW had held all the reins of power since before the first Krall attacks.”

Although a neophyte in politics, Bledso still understood the implications of DEW controlling the budget again. The military would get more of the new technology ships and weapons the Federation had made it possible to build. “We’ll know in four months, after the elections. Our having new ships, equipped with gravity projectors, will keep the Empire on their heels if they persist in trying to annex us.”

Strickland was feeling optimistic. “Even without both houses, we have momentum on our side. I’d like you to contact Admiral Foxworthy, and ask her to send ten heavy cruisers just before my speech. Landing them the night before my address, with the mall cordoned off, they can sit there unseen until I announce our new naval capability. I’ll have my press secretary arrange for strategically located cameras to pan over them as they uncloak, one after another. The big wall screen in the chamber, behind you and the House Speaker, can show the Mall view to the assembly and the entire Hub, as the cruisers dramatically start appearing.”

“That will make for a good show, but I hope you credit the Federation for sharing their technology with us. That removes the best argument the LOR had against them. Their military superiority. We’ll soon have as many Kobani converts in our military ranks as they have, and by opening Federation planets to settlement from Human Space, our populations are going to become as intertwined as our common interests. They insist that worlds in their space be ruled by Federation laws, allowing alien citizens to live on them if they wish, but colonists from here can hold dual citizenship, and travel freely between the Federation and the Planetary Union.”

“Their alien citizens and their experience with advanced technology, still give the Federation an edge when developing new innovations. President MacDougal just signed our negotiated trade agreement proposal, where their companies retain exclusive patent rights on their technology, but agree to produce and sell to us, or in many cases, license manufacturing rights to Hub and Rim world companies to produce the lower end small ticket items, which will reach the homes of average citizens. That’s smart, because they can’t produce as many tachyon powered toasters, Tri-Vid sets, and ovens, as our trillion people will want to buy, and they will still earn a portion of every sale.”

Strickland said, “MacDougal says that with their currently low population, they will be sharing that taxed revenue with their citizens. Which will include every immigrant to a new colony that becomes a Federation citizen.”

She added a prediction. “I believe we’re going to see a steady stream of our poorest citizens moving there. At least until the populations starts to equalize, in a few hundred years. They have thousands of planets in their huge volume, so Human Space will probably become the old country, to their people.”

“Marlene, that will only happen if we avoid becoming vassals of the Thandol. Our shiny new ships, and our vibrant new Kobani service members have to join the fight soon.”

“You can stop the sales pitch to me, dear. I bought into the concept before Tanner’s was hit. Now help me with a first draft of my speech. I have Foxworthy assembling an upgraded fleet, but I need to convince parliament to grant me approval to deploy it against the Empire. Unless they attack us first, of course. We don’t want to wait for that.”

****

Three weeks later, Foxworthy told her her aide. “Please remind Bledso’s staff that I requested my ten ships returned after the publicity stunt. It’s been a week, and the members of the two houses have had enough time to visit them, talk to the crews, and take demonstration flights. The ships were only supposed to help the president make her point.

“Say that I need the crews to finish their training. Of course, Kobani crews don’t forget anything anymore, or need pointless and repetitive training out here, but they should rejoin the fleet. I can now deploy fleet elements where they might be needed.” She was still relishing her own feeling of rejuvenation as a Kobani.

She was the first, and highest ranking naval officer to be transformed, when Bledso enviously notified her of the removal of the gene law restrictions on commissioned officers. It was called the Kobani Exception, leaving out the somewhat contentious words gene modifications. A quick administering of the revised loyalty oath, and she took a shuttle to a nearby Federation hospital ship. The aches, pains, and mild fever were nearly gone after spending a full additional week in a med lab.

Mentally absorbing personnel reports, using her increased processing speed, she noted, “The crews of the other modified ships are bored. The first ones completed have been orbiting K1 for the last month. Oh, damn it…, I just said we don’t forget crap. I meant orbiting Greater West Africa. Wait! Will there be a name change again, or what? I’ve been out of touch in that med lab, but I heard the Department of Colonization will call it New Africa.”

Her assistant, Lieutenant Commander Ken Bracy, also a new Kobani, but suffering the aches, pains, and mild fever of his continuing transformation, performed a quick Comtap link to the flagship’s AI. One of the fun things he could do now. In under a second, he had the AI send the requested message concerning the ten heavy cruisers to Bledso’s staff on Earth, via instant communications. Only then did he respond to his superior’s question, which he wasn’t sure if it was rhetorical or not.

“Mam, my navy Comtap friend on the president’s military advisory board, says the president signed the joint resolution from parliament last night, and it was renamed New Africa in that Bill.”

He added other details Foxworthy must have missed. “The colony renaming was included in an amendment, but the full resolution authorized the Federation to continue to operate the Prada factory here, under an expanded navy contract. It’s obviously the fastest way to perform the stealth modifications on our existing ships, although Hub shipyards are squawking foul play. My guy says contract negotiations are also underway to have the Prada build our new Scouts here, or perhaps construct navy versions of Federation Mark II’s instead. He’s of the opinion that politics will give the larger ship construction to the Hub yards.”

Based on the past plodding implementation of new naval contracts, she said, “Wow. That’s more efficient than I expected our side to be. Those furry little lemur-like primates have thousands of years of experience running those automated Olt’kitapi designed factories. Now that they’re a free people, and get paid for their work, they’ve increased their previous productivity.

“Their 3-D component printing, incorporating quantum encoded materials and circuitry, has expanded recently. I was told by a Federation representative that worked on the license and patent contracts, that the Prada are doing much of the technological quantum level work the Torki had once done for the Krall. She explained that they had wanted to help the Torki retain their value to the Krall. They still don’t have the level of theoretical knowledge the Torki do, but their factories were designed by the Olt’kitapi, and had always had capabilities beyond what the Krall needed, or understood was possible. Now, the Prada are learning how to make use of those built-in production features.

“Despite the Prada one accepting the Krall as an elder race, and their rightful Rulers, they knew all too well that when they worked too diligently, their Rulers wasted the lives of unneeded workers, and reduced their population.”

Bracy agreed the Prada were enthusiastic. “I’ve been down inside that factory to watch them at work. They don’t follow breeding restrictions now, and there are half grown kids underfoot everywhere. There are webs of walkways and rope links to move Prada automation supervisors and programmers quickly around the expanding production lines. There are hundreds of young ones, hanging by their tails, watching how it’s done by their elders.

“The eldest factory manager told me they used the programable machinery to replicate almost a complete new factory down there. They expanded the existing production lines with the new machines. The machines use some sort of fifth force effect to make metals more malleable, and incorporate embedded quantum level circuitry. There’s no blast furnaces or high impact presses to form materials, or to create special alloys. That’s accomplished by those amazingly fast matter printers.

“Without the Krall demand that factories should stay hidden underground, and under a single dome, they avoided the delay of excavation. They built dome extensions and expanded onto the surface of that big island they bought. There’s no air, water, or any environmental pollution that I could see, because they take the steps to clean up wastes, which the Krall, not caring, made them skip. The Krall had plenty of depopulated worlds to waste if one became too polluted.

“I guess they don’t have child labor laws in Prada society, although I don’t think they could keep the little farts away from the factories. They receive school lessons during several long breaks every day. You’d not see that level of eagerness in human kids. At least not for work and school. They seem to consider operating machinery, making, and building things, a sort of play.”

Foxworthy mulled over some thoughts she’d formed, after learning more about the Prada’s past. “I think the Krall did more than direct their own evolution. Perhaps unintentionally, for twenty thousand years they forced the Prada to live and evolve in ways the Krall required of them, to stay useful and to survive. It may take generations to produce Prada that don’t crave more than learning how to use new technology, and working incessantly to make things.”

Bracy, amused, offered an observation. “We pay the factory by the value of the units produced, of whatever it is, as measured by human factories that make similar things. The Prada divide that payment fairly, between the elders and workers, so no CEO or majority stockholder gets the bulk of the earnings. They outproduce any automated human factory I’ve seen. They’re going to become rich little suckers at the rate they push finished ships out the factory doors, or whatever widgets they agree to make.”

“I really don’t want us to exploit them, even if they don’t care,” Foxworthy said sincerely. Then added guiltily, “but I hope no labor union gets to them before we have enough ships built to kick the Empire’s ass. The Prada don’t take holidays, or demand five day weeks. After a two-week vacation, they can’t wait to get back to work. That’s good for us and the Federation.

“The Empire was already effectively on a stable and sustaining war footing when we encountered them, because of their suppressive and militarized regime. As soon as we defeated the Krall, the PU started cutting back on ships, weapons construction, and personnel. It’s ironic, but meeting the Thandol so soon may have saved our butts, had we met them a hundred years later. I’m confident the LOR would have cut the military budgets drastically.”

Not in disagreement with anything she said, Bracy nevertheless changed the subject. “Have you decided yet where to repost the two thousand heavy cruisers already converted?”

“Locked inside that med lab, I could still use my new Comtap after the first week, when my superconducting nerves stabilized. President Flacco, of Tanner’s World, has invested in an orbital docking facility for visiting warships, where we can dock ships for resupply and routine maintenance from orbit. He also had the spaceport facilities at Fort Bradford upgraded to accommodate parking and moderate servicing needs, for up to two hundred heavy cruisers at a time. That way, we can provide frequent rotating ground leave for a taskforce of a thousand ships there. Flacco promises that our Kobani crews will be most welcome at that former military base, which is also undergoing expansion. He assures me there are ample entertainments and bars for that many navy personnel at one time, of both genders.”

“The other thousand ships?”

“Dawson.” She said firmly. “The Rim colony ten light years from Tanner’s. Before you joined my staff, that’s where I was stuck because of government indecision, when the Ragnar attacked Tanner’s. I told the president of Dawson that fewer forces would be involved there this time, only the navy, and those would not be grounded continuously. We have leased space on their large moon for a base, and our personnel would only be groundside when taking leave. There wouldn’t be any of Nabarone’s troublesome nine thousand unruly spec op ground forces, fresh from months of combat with the Krall.

“They agreed to give us a trial period for a visit, before we start building the base. Having a one thousand heavy cruiser taskforce overhead, for defense from the Empire, was still a harder sale than I expected. In a not-so-veiled-veiled warning, they said they only have enough jail capacity for a hundred rowdy navy crewmembers at one time. They refused to accept the risk again of trying to incarcerate hundreds of misbehaving spec ops troopers, who working together, could bend bars of jail cells. I conveniently failed to mention that our navy crews have now been genetically modified into Kobani. I hope our people prove to be better behaved than Nabarone’s troops were.”

Bracy smiled, sharing her hope. “Anyway, that puts all our remodeled ships close to Empire territory, but the Finth bypassed the frontier to reach One Land. Even if the enemy can’t see our stealthed taskforces in orbit, they may be headed for other planets.”

“We have to start deploying somewhere, and close to where they last attacked Human Space seemed reasonable. If our new monitor boats, posted well above and below the galactic plane, pick up inbound enemy ships, we can get to where they’re headed at about the same time, or possibly ahead of them. We have stealth they can’t penetrate, and we have ships and crews that can outperform theirs. We don’t have cruisers with gravity projectors yet, but I plan to attach twenty Scouts to each task force, and they have proven to be deadly at space combat.

“In an emergency, I have another two thousand ships waiting their turn at refitting, a quarter of them heavy cruisers, the rest medium cruisers, and all of them flown by Kobani, no gel filled suits needed. Their stealth is at least as good as the enemy’s, and although the acceleration limits won’t be removed until modified, they can still sharply maneuver at higher g forces than normal humans can tolerate. In addition, we have Comtap links for coordination and instant long-range communications, in or out of a Jump Hole. They do not.

“After the fighting on Tanner’s, we know normal humans are not as strong as an unarmored Ragnar, but most humans can accept higher g forces. Per Mirikami’s people that went to Den Home, normal humans wouldn’t be nearly as strong as a Finth. Fortunately, like the Ragnar, the Finth evolved in lighter gravity.

“Earth is a heavier gravity planet than their home worlds, so our physiology handles higher gravities better than they do. Humans started out in higher gravity than is average in the galaxy, but the Krall evolved in even higher gravity. Then they bred to become physical freaks. Thanks to our apparently unique mastery of genetics, we Kobani are far freakier than even the Krall. As more of us receive the gene mods, there won’t be any Normals facing combat.

“Our two thousand unmodified ships, waiting out here in the Rim region for the Prada to modify them, can reach most planets on this side of the Rim in a day. Additional help isn’t very far away with T-cubed travel.”

“OK.” Bracy summarized. “We can put four thousand ships into a fight, half of them technologically better than any in the Empire, and half roughly equal. That is, unless we’re facing Smashers with Decoherence bomb launchers. We have novae bombs, but they’re large and massive, and we can’t deliver a hundred of them per minute. Our Scouts had better be able to find and hit those ships fast. Enemy mass detectors will locate the larger ships quickly, and we’d be forced to keep moving randomly and Jumping so often that it would be difficult to fight effectively.”

“Ken, you’re talking like we’ll face a Thandol fleet right away. We expect to fight one or more of their three security forces before facing any of the Thandol fleets. They don’t share Decoherence equipped Smashers with their security forces.

“The species we know almost nothing about are the Thack Delos. The Empire’s Security Sector three is the one most remote from our border. We haven’t learned much about them, other than they evolved from a large salamander-like animal, and use nukes in combat because they are radiation resistant. Mirikami informed us he sent a squadron of Scouts to check them out and make contact. Using Comtap links, we’ll learn more about them soon after Mirikami does.”

“I hope so. It’s hard to get accustomed to all the different species and cultures we’ve encountered or learned about, just in my lifetime. We went from there only being humans in the known Universe when I was a teen, to the worst nightmare possible when we ran into the Krall. I mean, I learned in high school that over four hundred years earlier some scientists claimed they’d briefly detected a radio signal from an alien race. They named them the Corrillians, and based on a triangulation from a receiver on an early robot exploration, out past Pluto, calculated they must live in a globular cluster, located at least twenty thousand lightyears away, above the plane of the galaxy. They were never heard from again, and I always thought it was some wiseass that pulled off a spectacular hoax.”

His superior smirked slightly. “In hindsight, it probably wasn’t a hoax.”

****

Mirikami, lip pulling ended, reached his decision. “We’ll Jump more of our patrol boats above the plane of the galaxy, to its magnetic north. That’s the direction our Thack Delos contact team says a tachyon wave trace indicates their fleet moved.”

“Headed our way?” President MacDougal was worried about which Federation world, as spread out as they were, might be the fleet’s target.

“Tet, if we leave our ships prepositioned closer to the Empire, protecting our colonies, they couldn’t get back to the Koban system very quickly, if this is the next target. Yet, pulling the task forces back home now would leave Raspani, Prada, Torki, and the Krall’tapi world unguarded.

“Three to four thousand ships might drop down on any one of them from the north, with too little warning to gather our forces to meet them. We lucked out on the Finth attack, by having Mind Taps to suggest at least which species they were ordered to attack. The Prada planets are all within a few hundred lightyears of One Land. Putting a handful of patrol boats below the galaxy’s plane, close to their worlds, spotted the enemy coming early.”

Tet pointed out an omission Stewart had made, listing possible targets. “You forgot to mention the Olt’kitapi. They just competed moving their population to the Excelsior system, where they’ll build their giant multispecies habitats. Although, they haven’t truly established much of a base on that planetary moon of the super Jovian. They told me they could evacuate their few hundred thousand population on their own ships.”

“How could they do that fast enough? They needed to use our Scouts to sneak undetectably away from Canji Dol, to rendezvous with their relatively few Dismantlers. Their ships might have three times the volume of a clanship but the eleven of them made a lot of round trips.”

MacDougal did a mental comparison. “I remember being aboard Pholowela once, and they aren’t as roomy inside as a Torki migration ship. How can they squeeze a population of nearly three hundred thousand onto so few Dismantlers?”

“Apparently, they won’t need to. When I linked to Frithda, warning him of their peril if they had to evacuate, I learned they have another three hundred nineteen ships, besides the eleven Dismantlers.”

He grinned in a conspiratorial manner. “Wanna know where they came from?”

An incredulous Stewart quipped, “Dismantlers are called living ships. I guess they had babies?”

Mirikami laughed. “No, but that’s a better guess than you expected with your joke. However, it is a kind of family relationship. I’d call them big brothers to Dismantlers. Frithda says they have male name endings of da, like the female gender names for Dismantlers, with the la ending.

“It’s a class of ships we’re calling Differentiators, after Pholowela described them to us once in a discussion of how the Olt’kitapi would gather pieces of dismantled planets. They were the tool ships that would hold molten blobs of a disrupted planet’s core in stasis, and use internal machinery to separate and preserve the various constituents, like metals, silicates, water, and gasses, for constructing planet sized habitats.”

“Huh. I thought the Krall would have destroyed those, just like the Olt’kitapi commercial ships and cities. If it couldn’t be used as a weapon, like break up a planet as a Dismantler could, they weren’t interested in building a new place to live.”

“The surviving Olt’kitapi thought that too, until they embedded more of the thousands of recovered mind enhancers from their dead ancestors, and explored the stored files they found there. There were maker forms that specialized in the use of those intelligent ships, and when the Krall revolt spread, those makers feared the plan to destroy the Krall home world might not stop them. The complete fleet of those tool ships was stationed in the system of the future habitat, a lot of Differentiators and the smaller number of Dismantlers. The Differentiator AIs were instructed to hide themselves in the super Jovian’s atmosphere to escape Krall destruction. The Dismantlers didn’t have the capability to hide in the same way.”

“Why not? Leaving them parked where they could be found gave the Krall a damned dangerous weapon.”

“For one thing, the original Olt’kitapi knew the Krall couldn’t operate them, and they didn’t think about their forcing the Krall’tapi to control them on their behalf. A Dismantler simply couldn’t survive by hiding the same way. The Differentiators settled to where the Jovian’s atmospheric density was great enough for them to float, suspended. That world has ten times the mass of Jupiter, so to preserve them from damage and planetary storms that might carry them deeper and crush them, they placed themselves into stasis, using fields powered by high energy tachyons held in their Trap fields. Once in stasis, they no longer experienced the passage of time in Normal Space, and they survived in an envelope of fields that protected them from all external forces in this Universe.

“Frithda says there were nearly two thousand of them originally, but after twenty-three millennia, random atmospheric convections pulled most of them so deep into the atmosphere that, when their stasis fields were switched off to awaken them, most were instantly crushed. Frithda said they were devastated at the loss of so many.”

“If time was frozen for them, how did the new Olt’kitapi wake them from inside their stasis fields? You said they were shielded from everything, including the passage of time.”

“Shielded from events and forces in this Universe, but not from something from another Universe. The Trap fields that use tachyon energy to power their stasis are in Tachyon Space, which isn’t in this Universe. Each ship carried a tachyon wave sensor programmed to shut off stasis if a specific pattern of quantum encoded tachyon modulation was detected. All of them awakened when the new Olt’kitapi signaled for the stasis fields to shut down. Unfortunately, not all survived to rise out of the atmosphere on Normal Space drives, from where they had been drifting so long.”

“Are these bigger than the Dismantlers?”

“I don’t know Stewart, but they must be. Frithda didn’t describe them to me, but he assured me they have enough ships for an evacuation of their population if that’s required. Therefore, we don’t need to divert any of our ships to protect them. They don’t have large permanent installations built there yet for them to worry about leaving them exposed. The Olt’kitapi are making do with pressurized habitat bubbles they made on Canji Dol, and towed the collapsed fabric and supplies away with the Scouts. They insist they can evacuate and return later. It’s impossible for any attack the Empire is capable of mounting that would ruin that planetary system. After all, the Olt’kitapi intend to dismantle all the planets for raw materials anyway.”

“Fine. So, our original uncertainty remains. Which of our worlds are the TD going to hit?” Thack Delos had often been shortened to TD in conversations, reflecting human preferences for short cuts, and lazy linguistic habits.

“It may not be us. The Thandol think what little they’ve seen of Human Space is ours anyway. I’ll warn Bledso, she’ll know where and what fleet resources the PU has positioned for defense. We aren’t going to send our ships into Human Space this time. They’ll just have to fight that battle on their own, if it comes to that. I don’t think they’re prepared to send their ships to our aid when we’re hit again.”

****

“How large a fleet?” Foxworthy asked, suddenly fully awake. She’d just received a late-night alert.

The watch officer paused a moment, waiting for an AI’s answer. “Too closely clustered to count individual ship, Mam, but two patrol boats report a combined mass that is smaller than the fleet the Ragnar sent against Tanner’s World. However, their fleet contained troop landers, carriers, and hundreds of supply ships. If the patrol boats are detecting only warships for a bombardment, like those the Finth sent to attack the Federation, it could be between three thousand and four thousand vessels, depending on the mix of light, medium, or heavy cruisers, or even smaller destroyer class ships. If it’s entirely a Thandol fleet, it would be a lower number, since their ship classes are individually larger. There certainly aren’t any Crushers present, Mam. Those would stand out sharply in any crowd of smaller ships.”

“If it’s the fleet Mirikami warned the Vice President about, it will be the Thack Delos, and not Thandol, which means probably the number of ships is about thirty-five hundred. You told me they were over a day out, coming from well above the disk. Is there a tachyon wave trace back towards a particular sector of the Empire at all?”

There was another pause as the watch officer communicated with the patrol boat AIs. Foxworthy used her Comtap, to send two flash alerts of her own while she waited.

He had only a vague answer when he returned. “There was an earlier wave trace from that general direction. Probably from before the fleet turned sharply towards the galactic disk. If so, their previous track didn’t suggest a Sector 1 origin, which would indicate the Ragnar if it did, but it isn’t precise enough to indicate which of the other two more distant sectors it could have come from. The Finth must still be licking their wounds after the Federation ambush, therefore this fleet most likely originated in sector three, where we’re told the Thack Delos patrol for the Empire.”

“OK. I sent a general alert to the commanders of both task forces while I waited. Before they’re organized and ready to Jump, I need to know where to send them. Which Rim worlds are along their track towards the disk?”

“None, Mam.”

“What? Then who?”

“Uh…, Mam, our AI took the data from both widely spaced boats, and the plot does pass through the Rim region, of course. But unless they change course, they won’t intercept any inhabited Rim system. They’ll pass through the Rim region and penetrate the Hub volume. Two planets are along that projected track, but the first one they would encounter, by at least a hundred twenty lightyears, is New Glasgow.”

“Damn. An Old Colony, with a lot of people. Wait. They were an intended target of the Krall, but were never invaded by them. I’ll bet they still have some of the planetary defenses, even if not staffed and operational. While I dress, and talk to my task force commanders, I want you to find out if there are any of our ships with Kobani on them, on or at least near New Glasgow. I want the PU Governor there to start on preparations and evacuations, before we can get either task force there. We can’t talk to them without someone equipped with a Comtap.”

“Yes, Mam. I’ll initiate a search through Naval Operations at Luna headquarters. They’ll know if we have Kobani crewed ships posted in the New Glasgow area.”

Foxworthy started pulling on her uniform, even as she Comtapped the two just awakened Task Force commanders, now getting their own underlings moving. She ordered them to Jump for New Glasgow as soon as possible. They were each slightly less than a day away, so they could arrive before the enemy did.

The twenty Scouts attached to each task force would leave immediately, a couple of hours ahead of the full task forces. Thus far, they had been undetectable by ships of the empire, provided they didn’t bunch up to form a larger mass. They could safely engage enemy recon craft if any arrived early.

Because the enemy fleet surely would outnumber her two thousand fully refitted ships, Foxworthy spoke to the commander of the next future task force, which was currently undergoing refit at New Africa.

She learned that fewer than a hundred ships were presently parked around the Prada industrial dome and tarmac, undergoing stealth applications by a swarm of Prada, and having gel suit stations removed. The new higher acceleration limits were applied via quickly installed software changes for ship AIs, plus some minor structural improvements and console bracing, to accommodate the higher uncompensated internal accelerations.

She learned twenty-two ships had completed the refitting process, but nearly thirteen hundred were awaiting their turn. Foxworthy ordered all those waiting ships to reload the missiles they had transferred to combat support ships, something done for safety purposes while undergoing refitting. Many of their crews were groundside, but shuttles would soon be recalling them. However, they might take a day and a half, or even two days to be ready to Jump for New Glasgow. Fortunately, Kobani crews were available for the twenty-two newly completed refits, and they were given priority on resupply, to be ready to leave in three hours, to form an escort for Foxworthy’s heavy cruiser flagship.

Lt Cdr Bracy brought her the news that he had indeed located Kobani to speak to the Governor of New Glasgow. “Mam, there’s a small Kobani crew on New Glasgow right now. There were no navy crews there, but a search of civilian shipping permits learned a ship with Kobani aboard was accepting a delivery there this week. It’s an independently owned freighter, with a Kobani captain.”

“How does that help us, unless we know his link address?”

“General Nabarone was listed as a security reference for the captain, on his port clearance documents. So is Vice President Bledso, and I think you may know him. Besides, I have his link address from shipping records.”

“Who is this freighter captain that knows so many influential people, and you think knows me, and he has a Kobani Comtap?”

“Have you met Nabarone’s former aide de camp, Lieutenant Colonel Howard Caldwell?”

“Howie? I’ll be damned. Except he was a major the last time I spoke to him, and he was no Kobani. Well, he wouldn’t have told me if he was a Kobani back then, since he was an officer in the PU army. He said he was champing at the bit to punch out of the army, to become a partner in a cargo shipping company. Nabarone kept pleading with him to stick around on Poldark until the Krall holdouts were mopped up. He must have been promoted while he was the de facto army commander on Poldark, when the war moved off planet. I had taken my navy squadron and chased after Nabarone, supporting his two armies, which were fighting on Krall worlds.

“Since Nabarone was secretly a Kobani at that time, it makes sense that his closest subordinate would likely have had the conversion. Feed me his link, I need to talk to him.”

A quick mental transfer from Bracy, and she initiated a link. “Howie, this is Admiral Janet Foxworthy. How are you?”

There was a hundredth of a second of uncertainty at the other end. “Who? Oh, Hi Foxie. You know what, over all the years I coordinated with you on behalf of Henry, I never called you by your real first name. You called me Howie, and I came back with Foxie. This is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know you knew I was a Kobani with a Comtap. I’d heard about naval officers making the change. Congratulations. Feels good, doesn’t it? What can I do for you?”

“This is urgent Howie. I need you to contact the PU governor there, Lamore Goodfem, on my behalf. On her and the planet’s behalf really. You happen to be sitting on what we believe is an Empire target. There’s an enemy fleet inbound, barely more than a day out, coming from galactic north.

“I want you to warn Goodfem, and pass the word that I’m sending two thousand ships, in two task forces, due within a day, and another thirteen hundred at least a day and a half later. My own heavy cruiser, with an escort of twenty-two medium cruisers, will get there shortly after the enemy arrives. You can take your freighter and cargo, to get safely away before then.”

“Well, I’ll have the cargo loaded shortly. It’s not bulky. It’s highly purified gallium alloys, such as gallium arsenide, gallium nitride, and another version with indium. It can be made on Koban, but it’s faster and cheaper for the Federation to buy it in Human Space, if they can get around the embargo the PU parliament hasn’t fully lifted in the Hub yet.

“Chief Haveram, my partner, developed a web of shady contacts for buying perfectly legal products when no one wanted to sell to him, and now those sources are simply faster when Koban needs things quickly. The pure crystals will be used by the Raspani and Torki to make electronic circuits for various gadgets I don’t understand. It’s partly for the war related industry, which is how I’m able to divert a ship for this, when the Federation is facing widespread attacks.

“I have a five person Kobani crew, and they’re Federation citizens, but share a common enemy with me and you. We may stick around and help out with the fight.”

“In a freighter?”

“I guess I wasn’t specific enough in my description. I fly a clanship, with all the bells and whistles of a warship. I don’t carry missiles, but I have the standard Fed stealth, lasers, and plasma cannons. My crew are veterans of some of the orbital fighting at K1, or whatever they call it today.”

“Oh. I first assumed you ran a company in Human Space, with a human built freight hauler. You must be Federation registered. I suppose that’s how the navy figured out a Kobani was aboard. I have no way to warn the governor without your Comtap link.”

“That’s what I figured. I started walking out of the cargo building right after you told me what you needed. I think I’ll try stopping a spaceport police officer, to get transportation. I doubt if I can just walk up to the governor’s mansion or her office, and simply introduce myself and tell my tale.”

“I’ll check with Earth, to see if there’s some sort of security pass, or some damned diplomatic secret handshake I can pass along to you to get you inside, and get them to listen.”

“Hell, if you remote Mind Tap me, I’ll and link you in by Comtap as your relay. That will speed things up, perhaps.”

“Sorry. We navy PU types don’t get that mod.”

“Go to Koban for screening, and you might. I intend to. Despite Nabarone, and every person on Koban getting it automatically in the early years, it’s more restricted today, and you need to pass screening first. I think all but about eight percent of Normals have healthy mental attitudes that qualify. Conmen, thieves, and someone with certain types of mental aberrations won’t pass, but known dishonest criminal types and crazies don’t get the physical mods either. When you’re already a Kobani, I think all but one or two percent also get Mind Tap.”

Caldwell, with Foxworthy linked in by Comtap to feed him privileged information she got from Earth, and an explanation of the urgency impressed on the steadily rising ranks of the police he encountered, led him to be quickly delivered to the PU Governor in under an hour. By that time, Foxworthy had some additional confidential information from Earth, to convince Goodfem this warning was on the level.

Foxworthy learned the former Planetary Defense Forces couldn’t get all the heavy laser batteries in place in a day, nor activate any of the anti-ship missile batteries, and radar systems that soon. Although, finding former veterans wasn’t all that hard. To defend their homes and families, they were highly motivated to drop what they were doing to help.

However, it was assumed the real defense would happen entirely in space. No one knew anything about the aliens they were told were coming to attack them on behalf of the Emperor. The Thack Delos were a near mystery to humans. Regardless, working as a Thandol security force, imposing the Empire’s harsh and unforgiving policies, they wouldn’t be nice.

Caldwell took advantage of his acquaintance with Mirikami to link to his Comtap address. “Tet, this is Howard Caldwell. Have a moment to talk?”

The reply was prompt. “I’ll make time, Howard. Still working with Haveram?”

“I am, and I was picking up an order of gallium alloys on Glasgow for delivery to Haven. Except, I’ve been called on to coordinate between an inbound Admiral Foxworthy and governor Goodfem, since me and my crew have the only Comtaps in the system. Foxworthy’s sending two PU task forces here to try to head off an Empire fleet, which I’m told you were the one that warned them it was coming.”

“That’s right. How are preparations going?”

“Planet-side, they’ve barely started moving a few thousand heavy defensive laser batteries out of storage around the thirty largest cities. The first anti-ship missiles and radar systems won’t be online for a couple of days at the earliest. Only Foxworthy’s two task forces, a thousand ships each, will be here to engage them in space for the first day and a half. Another thirteen hundred unmodified standard style ships, a mix of medium and heavy cruisers, will arrive after that, but they do have Kobani crews.

“She’ll be outnumbered until they arrive. She and I think her better stealth and Kobani crews on the first two thousand ships will improve their odds, as well as forty Scouts. I’m going up to fight with them, and I’ll try to keep her informed on anything you can tell me.”

“So, my ground pounder friend, you decided to turn space jockey?”

“I have five Kobani crew members that were with your fleet on the final fight at K1, each one on a different ship. Not captains, but they know what happened, and shared Taps as it occurred. Mind Tap is a wonderful thing.”

“Good. I hope Foxworthy takes time to link with them while she’s in Jump status. A Mind Tap and a dump of tactics to her storage files will help her.”

“She can’t do a remote Tap. She doesn’t have that mod yet, and neither do I. All five of my crew does, because they grew up on Koban. They’ve Tapped me and shared their experiences. You should know at least one of them, even if not well. All of them grew up in Hub City, but only one was old enough to get her mods at Prime City when you were Commander there. A school friend she says, of Alyson Martin, who’s married to Carson. Her name’s Rhonda Fabershan.”

“I remember the name, and a slender girl with brown hair.”

“That’s her. She wanted to learn more about Human Space, and after fighting with us on Poldark, stayed there and signed on with Haveram and me.”

“I didn’t know that. Nor about Foxworthy not having the full mods. Well, scanning the file dump into her memory matrix will speed up her decisions, and help her adapt to a brand-new enemy. I can also give that to Rhonda, who can Tap you both if she can touch you, to give you a better feel for the information.”

“That will help me, but not Foxworthy right away. She won’t get here until after the battle has begun, and will need to experience it second hand via Comtap, at least initially.”

“Perhaps you and your crew can meet with some of her ship captains there, or at least both Task Force commanders, and do direct Taps to transfer what you know.”

“Right. But, let me ask about what I called you to learn. Can you confirm for certain if it’s a TD fleet yet, and its strength? How about any combat tactics they use, their armament, and ship types? Assuming your Scouts, which you sent to their home system, obtained any of that intelligence yet.”

“Howard, our squadron is still studying their system and the hundred or so ships still at their docks. They have not tried for prisoners yet, but I have a different source of information about them, much closer at hand. I’m on Koban, so give me a moment to link with Maggi, who’s on Haven. I’ll conference her in. She’s been interrogating our Thandol prisoners about the TD. They were relatively accurate at describing the methods used by the Ragnar and Finth, and how they think.”

There was a period of quiet, while Mirikami conferred with his wife on Haven, then it was Maggi that Howard heard next. He knew her, but had met her only twice, since she’d had little dealings with the war on Poldark.

“Howard, I’m happy to talk to you again. Chief Haveram told me you and he had started up a cargo operation, mostly legal deals these days, he says. I think you’re having a good influence on him.”

“Hello Maggi. We were starting to make decent money, until the Federation called in all but three of our ships. I fly a ship I named the Sweet Deal, a former clanship, and Haveram operates mostly out of the Shady Lady, another clanship, although he’d never give up the Falcon. Even though it wouldn’t stand up to a real fight. That’s his cover ship, for when he needs to make a deal without revealing our Koban connection.” He shifted to the subject at hand.

“I assume Tet told you I’m about to risk the Shady Lady, fighting off what we are sure will be a Thack Delos fleet, coming here to attack New Glasgow.”

“Tet told me that. And that you’re operating as a liaison, of a sort, between Admiral Foxworthy and the governor there, until she arrives. We’re certain now it’s a TD fleet, so what should I tell you about them?”

“Start with where they live, and what they’re like, to help me form a picture I can describe and share without a Mind Tap, then I’ll have Rhonda Fabershan, of my crew, call you for a Mind Tap update.”

“Oh. I recall her. I helped her through her recovery from her first mods as a teen. I’ll link to her after you and I finish talking. What I know about the TD will be second hand, obtained from two Thandol officers that have had only slight dealings with them. Their Crusher made a state visit to the Crinlor Delos system once, to show off the Emperor’s navy muscles.

“By the way, Crinlor in Thandol means twins, which is derived from the red dwarfs that form the close binary primary suns. They are short period close binary’s, which form their central dual suns. The Thack Delos call them Delos, which means something like family or grandparents, not twins.

“The stars, nearly of identical mass, rotate around each other in the same plane as the six rocky planets, with a period of about one Earth day. Because they are so close, they trigger frequent solar flares in one another. Most of the flares are traded like punches between the stars, but there’s a lot of UV radiation and coronal mass ejections, or CMEs, that hit the two habitable planets. Those are the third, and forth, rocky worlds. The two inner planets are rather scorched and barren.

“The third planet, a colony, is on the inner edge of the habitable zone. The TD colonized it tens of thousands of years in the past, but it isn’t any garden planet, even by their harsh standards.

“It rotates twice for each three-week orbit, so it has long days and nights, in a three to two resonance, but it’s atmosphere distributes heat to the dark side to keep it livable for the days of darkness. The Thandol say the planet’s name is Dolbor Ver, but consider it of little use other than a mining base and a ship yard.”

“Dolbor Gen Delos, fourth planet out, is their home planet of origin. Adding Delos translates the names of the planets to something like the children of the parent stars, which are collectively called Delos, like a family name. The Thack Delos are the children of their home planet, or grandchildren of the parent suns.

“A fatherless relationship, I guess, except, like the Torki, they don’t grow up in a family unit, or know their parents. They hatch in swamps from clutches of eggs, and start out much like the amphibians they once were. They swim, and have tails for propulsion in their first years, and gills. The Thandol didn’t know how many years, because they use the term orbits, and with a three-month orbit around their cool stars, our standard Earth years don’t translate well to estimate their life cycle, I don’t know how long they live.

“In any case, they gradually lose their tails and gills, and their stubby legs, both front and rear, lengthen, and they become upright land dwellers. Their skin retains the ability to absorb some oxygen directly, but they have lungs, and breath like we do.”

Howard, trying to form a mental picture, asked, “They’re sort of walking salamanders? How large and what color? They don’t sound fearsome.”

“Not much like I picture a salamander. They’re bipedal, all green, from four feet to a slender six feet tall, dry skin that holds in moisture, with a bug-eyed head, with wide set large blue eyes. The eyes are very large, compared to ours, for the lower light environment of their suns, and longer nights than we evolved under.

“We now have infrared vision, thanks to our ripper genes, but I’ll bet theirs is better. We’ll surely have better vision in what we call the visible range, which is a conceit on our part, since any radiation a life form can see is called their own visual range.”

“What ship types? At least what the Thandol told you they have.”

“Their light cruiser, per the Thandol estimate, who build oversized ships, looks more like what the PU navy would classify as a medium cruiser. It’s named something that I believe translates into the word Marauder, and is their best craft at ship-on-ship combat. It mounts heavy lasers, less powerful than a clanship’s, but a match for the navy’s beams. Four plasma cannons, less powerful than your clanship has, and now the navy heavy medium cruisers have been upgraded to match ours. Their plasma cannons cycle faster, because of their lower power demands. They fire four type missiles. Anti-ship, anti-missile, and two type of ground attack missiles.

“Their Heavy cruisers, which I’ve decided the name would be best translated as Exterminators, come heavily armed. The ship is as large as the Thandol permits for a Security force, and is bigger than a Smasher, but more agile. Armed with six plasma cannons heavier than yours or the navy’s, only two heavy lasers, one front, one rear, and they are monsters, mounted in turrets and used for defense as much as offense. They fire the same four missile types. There are other ship types, but only one of the other categories is likely be on this mission.

“It’s a sort of small carrier, simply called an Egg Layer, and it carries six oval shaped Infiltrators, which have two or three crew members each, and it has defensive missiles and lasers. However, it can launch up to ten ground attack missiles simultaneously.”

“What weapons did nature give the Thack Delos?” he asked.

The Krall had talons and teeth, Ragnar had big muscles and were agile and well balanced for being so bulky, the Finth had big teeth, claws, and massive shoulders and arms, the Thandol had trunks and tentacles, with those four flat stomping feet. He wondered about this new species.

She sent a mental image, gleaned from the minds of the Thandol prisoners. “The TD, except for some pointy front teeth, which I’d not call fangs at all, don’t have claws, and their fingers and hands are uncannily like ours, but green, with a slightly warty looking skin, which also covers their entire hairless bodies. They are no more imposing looking than we are, but their home world has about ninety three percent of Earth’s mass. That makes them somewhat like normal humans in physical capability, thus stronger for their smaller size than the other security species are, who all have larger bodies.

“They don’t wear much in the way of clothing, so yet again, we oversexed and overdressed humans are the exception. They often wear harnesses and belts, with purses or pouches, made of what looked to me like leather, but could be artificial. They sometimes carry side arms in holster type devices, either at their waist, or in a chest carry. They often wear sandals, but also wear shoes or boots.

“I saw images of them in armor that conforms to their wide-headed anatomy, with stealth capability that matched what the Ragnar use, and the Thandol are also the source of much of their weapons technology. They carry automatic plasma rifles, and use a sort of flame thrower used by a handful of troops. They often carry lightweight, short range, Debilitater projectors. Although, they favor shoulder fired weapons that none of our other adversaries use, for fear it will be used on them. These nasty little warheads, and larger versions, can be placed on any of their anti-ship missiles, and their largest ground attack missiles.

“What’s that type warhead?”

“Nuclear weapons. Not the hugely destructive thermonuclear weapons, but the smaller, damaging, dirty, ionizing radiation producing kind. They only use these when the Thandol approve, because after they dirty up a planet it isn’t suitable for any other species except them, and their imported plants and animals for many years.”

“I don’t get it. How do they live on radiation polluted worlds?”

“The same way they do now. Dolbor Ver and Dolbor Gen are both bathed in frequent radiation storms from solar flares from their stars. They thrive under UV radiation that we’d die from within a week or two, and we’d die from more than just severe sunburn. We’d develop cancers, tumors, and suffer tissue damage faster than our oldest Earth installed gene mods could fight, kill, and repair. They don’t even get radiation sickness.”

“Why not?”

“Kind of like what happened on Koban with organic superconducting nerves, they inherited common DNA genetics that evolved in all their surface life forms on Dolbor Gen, which can tolerate more radiation without damage. But, they also have an energy driven biological repair system that corrects damage to their chromosomal DNA. It sounds like a natural system related to our artificial anti-aging genetics, which we copied from the Prada. Only it’s more robust. They don’t need nanites or med labs for repairing accumulated radiation damage.

“Their tissues absorb radiation in a biofluorescence phenomenon, which absorbs UV energy, and possibly other electromagnetic radiation spectrums, and emit it as a different color, green in their case. But aside from it being useful for some basic glowing skin communication flashes, and skin color camouflage, their bodies can use that energy to power metabolic processes that attack tumors, to kill or rapidly excise them, and repair damage to their DNA from penetrating atomic particles. A nuke detonated nearby will kill them as easily as any human from blast effects, but if farther away, they will recover from a dose of radiation that would kill us in hours.”

“I take it this radiation resistance guides some of their weapons technology? Are they resistant to a Debilitater, like we are now?”

“Nope. The Thandol were adamant. The Thack Delos nervous system reacts strongly to that electromagnetic radiation. However, they use Debilitater weapons, and wear body armor for protection from it. They also have other damaging radiation weapons.”

“Such as?”

“Antipersonnel weapons that send out beams of electrons, called beta radiation, which is short range, and is effective on any unprotected skin. They have longer range UV beams, and particle beams of much lower energy than a plasma bolt, which radiate UV and gamma photons from the decaying unstable accelerated nuclei that embed in tissues. These weapons deliver slow developing damage to populations or groups of people, who will die in hours or days without med lab and nanite treatment, or will die in minutes at more intense doses. These are population control, or actually, population reduction weapons.”

“Shit. We don’t have much in the way of field radiation treatments, or protection and shielding from penetrating particle radiation. Not for civilians, anyway. We have Kobani armor, with nanite injectors, and natural radiation reflection from our stealth coatings. Likewise, my clanship has that coating, as do Foxworthy’s refitted ships. But not the people of this planet, nor the admiral’s later arriving ships. The Krall wouldn’t permit the use of radiation weapons or nukes by their enemies, so we didn’t develop those defenses. The Krall weren’t concerned for our health, but it could spoil their selective breeding program. Now we aren’t prepared to encounter these types of weapons.”

“Tet is in a Comtap discussion with our scientists and technicians here on Haven while you and I talk. Although, I don’t know what they could come up with that would help New Glasgow implement it within the next twenty-four hours.”

“Will they fire the radiation beam weapons from orbit, or in low atmosphere?”

“Oh. I guess that’s one of the good points in your favor. I hadn’t considered that aspect while I was describing weapons they have, rather than how they’re deployed. Most of the beam-like radiation is delivered via heavy armored trucks or tanks on the ground, powered by large fusion bottles, and they also carry the radioactive material they will ionize, to magnetically, or electrostatically, fire at their living targets. Electrons they produce themselves, by stripping them from atmospheric atoms, but radioactive isotopes they refine and bring with them, and they’re the most dangerous penetrating kinds of radiation. Layers of clothing can stop most Beta radiation.

“All of those beams have shorter ranges than a laser or plasma bolt in air. They couldn’t be fired from orbit at the ground, or even by a ship in low atmosphere. Unless the TD brings landing craft with them, those sorts of weapons won’t be put on the ground and used to attack the population. But, nuclear tipped missiles with dirty warheads or neutron bombs might be used.”

“Double damn. I need to pass this on to Governor Goodfem in just a few minutes. That isn’t going to be pleasant.” Then he had a thought.

“Is it possible to negotiate with them? Buy them off, or arrange a truce? I doubt if we have a translation for their language, but if they understand Thandol, the PU has the translation data bases you gave them. We can try to talk them out of the attack, and to revolt against the Thandol. You were trying to do that with the Ragnar and Finth.”

“That was a better idea in theory than it’s been in practice. It hasn’t worked so far, and I don’t think that’s a possibility with these aliens, at least at this point. From the minds of the Thandol officers, the Thack Delos behave strangely, and apparently other species think so as well. They don’t exhibit, or seem to even experience the typical emotional responses, such as anger, hatred, or rage towards a foe. Nor do they display sympathy, empathy, or compassion for their victims, or those they deal with peacefully. They certainly perpetuate hateful and heartless seeming acts on those they attack, but it is measured, to try to produce the results they wish to achieve. No emotions involved.

“They have never formed an alliance with another species, thus they have no subservient species allies or spies within the Empire. By the same measure, until they are given a motive or reason to punish or attack one of the subservient species they tax, on behalf of the Emperor, they leave them alone.

“They don’t lord it over those they regulate, although they collect tribute from them on behalf of the Empire, and themselves, of course. They always pay the agreed upon share to the Emperor’s representatives. No more, and no less. It can prove fatal for the Thandol noble that collects the revenue if they try to cheat the TD representative that comes to count and divide the funds. Tax skimming is a common form of Thandol corruption, but not with our bug eyed little green men. There can be negotiations over the amounts to be exchanged, and of the division of the spoils, but threatening the TD agent, and keeping part of what he believes is owed him after negotiations have concluded, always leads to a physical attack, and a death. The Thandol noble, or the TD agent.

“There have been thousands of subsequent deaths involved when a corrupt Thandol tax collector made off with a tax haul that was not divided as fairly as the Thack Delos representative believes was agreed upon. For a relatively small amount, and for the principle involved, the entire species may prepare to fight a war they can’t win.

“On the other hand, they will accept and keep an overpayment, but will not demand one greater than negotiated, and will never return an overpayment if asked to do so, and will not deliver any added service, benefit, or material that was not agreed upon in advance, in exchange for the extra payment. You must stick to the deal negotiated, but if you pay them more, then it is assumed you discovered what you received was worth the additional payment. If the TD make a bad deal, and offer you something, or some service too cheaply, they won’t demand an adjustment.

“They don’t bully, brag, or even lash out because of some verbal insult or social slight, so long as it isn’t physical. Yet, if a subservient species, a merchant, or a government representative, tries to withhold a payment for a tax, or for a purchase, of even a slight amount less than agreed, the TD representative involved may kill, or order to be killed, a member of the offender’s family, ranging from one of their small children, their mate, or a distant relation, depending on how serious the underpayment is thought to be. It can escalate from there. Prompt payment of the difference will not prevent the initial retaliation, it will only halt the escalation.

“The choice of penalty is based entirely on what the tax or debt collector involved believes will produce the payment in full. If it seems likely that escalating the selective debt penalty of murder will not succeed, or is repeated on a later debt collection, the offending individual, all their relatives, and even close associates will be killed, and continue to be killed until the amount owed is paid by someone. Anyone. If there are no relatives and associates remaining to kill, that generally settles the debt.

“The thing you must know, is that you don’t cheat or steal from them and get away with it without some form of payment for the transgression. Although, you can fight them and defeat them badly enough that they agree that the cost has become too steep to them for their principles. Then, they stop fighting and withdraw, allowing you to retain what they think you took unfairly, and they will not hold a grudge to be revived at some future date. It is done for them, unless you offend them further, by not accepting the new implied negotiated settlement after they withdraw, and renew your attacks on them. They are capable of fighting to the very end, with absolutely no compunction against what they are willing to do to you, and are willing to accept tremendous losses in the renewed fighting.”

Caldwell summarized. “They are not exactly honorable in their demands, but if you negotiate and reach an agreement, they honor theirs, and you had better honor your part, or else.”

“Well, the other party had better stick with the deal, but, we don’t know how rigid the Thack Delos really are, what their honor actually requires, or even if it’s a matter of what we call honor. That’s because we don’t have a precedent when what I’m about to describe was ever tried. Will they negotiate with a new party to alter a deal they already had with someone else?

“I’d think the new party would at least have to pay off the obligation owed to the TD, or owed by them to the other party, and then honor the new deal with them. But who knows? It’s never been done, as far as the Thandol prisoners know.”

“Thanks, Maggi. Tell Tet I’ll be in touch after I brief the governor.”

Chapter 8: The Thack Delos

Chief Negotiator for this fleet mission, Stendal Gelander, accepted a critical observation of his profession, spoken by Contract Implementer Jentor Desh, in charge of the fleet.

“I agree, Implementer, we should not have set the future payments from the Thandol at the agreed levels before we gathered all the facts. Such as those concerning the Empire’s and the other two Security forces interactions with the recently discovered Federation, which we know so little about. Master Negotiator Falstor shares in that responsibility, and of our ignorance, along with the Board of Adjustors. Other Chief Negotiators, such as myself, were not included in their discussions, so I do not have all the facts they considered.

“Nevertheless, we all know the Thandol cannot be trusted for accuracy in matters of payment, or of promised value of things offered in trade. I am concerned that we have set our payments too low for the risk and expenses to come. However, the Ragnar and Finth do not trust the Thandol either, and yet they rushed to perform the obligations they eagerly accepted. That seemed supportive of great value to be found in annexing the region of space claimed by the mysterious Federation.

“The other two Security forces may now regret their hasty acceptance of the new agreements. They are known to value power exerted over new species as part of their payments, and perhaps they have not been able to exert the power anticipated over the Federation. There are suggestions in intercepted communications that there have been unexpectedly high expenses in executing their contracts.”

Desh noted the difficulty of discovering what the Ragnar and Finth had learned about implementing the new negotiations. “They would never willingly share unfavorable experiences with us, not wanting us to obtain a better agreement with the Thandol, based on their own results, particularly if they had not profited from their first negotiations with this Federation.”

What the Chief Negotiator and the Contract Implementer considered to be essentially a contract negotiation, and its execution after agreeing to terms, was what other species would call warfare.

Many races, for obscure reasons to the Thack Delos, considered political power and social position worthy of acquiring, nearly as much as obtaining material property that you could physically possess, and use. Political Power and Social Position, considered to be real things by other races, were intangible objects, yet somehow, they held value to most species. Things that they treated as having physical worth, to be included in negotiations with the Thandol, or with other races.

Other species frequently accepted less in material payments, in exchange for what the Thack Delos thought were falsely valued intangibles. The Thandol, Finth, and Ragnar, traded in these immaterial commodities, and fought wars, killed, and suppressed subservient species for them. The Ragnar and Finth accepted offers of these intangibles from the Thandol, to maintain power over other subservient species, and thus rise in social and political eminence within the structure of the Empire. In turn, they received a smaller portion of what was of material value in their other payments and exchanges with the Empire.

To the Thack Delos, those were stupid, and low profit agreements! They demanded entirely material payments, and used that edge in wealth to conduct “contract negotiations” in the sector they agreed to regulate for their own benefit, and for the majority Thandol shareholder.

Not that it mattered to them, but their cold implementation of their agreements with the Thandol engendered fear and hatred from the species they dominated. They gained no social advantages or political power in the Empire, but they didn’t miss what was worthless to them.

Gelander offered an observation. “The other two security forces have each recently displayed evidence that they encountered contract implementation expenses well beyond their expectations. Perhaps because they accepted too quickly the Emperor’s promise of undefined shares in the taxes they would collect, and the power to be gained over poorly known new species.

“I worry,” he continued, “that in our wish to gain a fair share of the profits, that our Board of Adjustors, and Master Negotiator, did not allow enough time for our Contract Investigators to report on their findings about contract implementation problems by the Ragnar and Finth. Based on the tachyon traces from a rapid evacuation of a large Thandol naval base, which we had not suspected existed in our sector, the Thandol may have miscalculated the value of their new enterprise, and difficulty in its implementation.”

By Contract Investigators, he meant spying by Thack Delos specialists, who couldn’t quickly infiltrate at level one travel speeds, to observe the known fleet assembly and repair areas of their competitors. They had no allies among other species who were willing to help them, or even to work with them for fair compensation.

The Thack Delos were always perplexed that payments offered to subservient species seldom purchased agreements for their help, which could benefit them both. They always paid their bills, yet the contracts were rejected. The aliens expressed illogical emotional responses that bore little relationship to past enforcement of contracts, which their own people had failed to honor to the Thack Delos, and there consequently had been understandable penalty deaths administered. They ignored the new opportunity to earn a profit, so information from investigators was always slow to return.

For good or ill, the corporate decision of the Board of Adjustors was about to be tested, and Gelander was present to evaluate how effective the aliens would be at resisting the contract, a hostile takeover, which the Thack Delos had agreed to conduct for the Emperor.

He noted the fleet was moments from its exit from Tachyon Space. He offered an age-old platitude. “Implementer Desh, may your expenses be far less than your profit.”

A passionless statement, for describing the killing and destruction to be levied on the lives and property of their targets, including whatever resources they expended on their resistance to the negotiations of the Thack Delos. That was to be measured against the costs to the Thack Delos to earn their profits with as little loss to themselves as possible. The Thandol had placed no restrictions on their methods, since the Emperor would allow the Thack Delos to claim the polluted wreckage of the world they would leave in their wake, when they eventually returned. Punishing the enemy was the most important goal for the Thandol right now.

The Contract Implementer, observing the data displayed by the ship’s AI at his console, spoke to his weapons division, as would be happening aboard all the Exterminators of the fleet, per the synchronized time coordination prior to initiating their Jump, and the Implementation Plan previously decided.

“Prepare the first salvo after exit. Launch on emergence.”

****

“Commander Billsworth, a patrol boat just reported the TD fleet is relatively compact, and is still inbound from galactic north. ETA in just over seven minutes, unless they exit early for a long-range view.” The young communications officer said this aloud, out of habit, rather than use her new Comtap link. Her Bridge station was adjacent to the Task Force commander’s console, making verbal, but unrecorded, communications tempting.

“Thank you, lieutenant. I’d like to know their exit point rather than arrival time. You’d earn a promotion if you could give me that, and deliver it via Comtap please, to record it for my justification for promoting you.” He smiled at the impossible task he’d posed for the junior officer.

At T-cubed speeds, about two hundred fifty-four lightyears per hour, even a few seconds wrong on their exit time was a sizable distance. A time inaccuracy could place the enemy too far away for positioning either of the two navy task forces for a prompt intercept. Instead, what they did was derive an estimate, frankly an educated guess, of the probable distance from the known target the attacker would likely select for their exit point, when rotating from Tachyon Space. Then the opposing forces would sit on either side of that distance in advance, in the direction from which the enemy would arrive, in a hoped-for surrounding ambush.

Billsworth, senior of the two commanders, and in charge of Task Force 1, was poised five thousand miles from New Glasgow, to the galactic north. Commander Chenowith, heading Task Force 2, was poised at one thousand miles from the planet, also to galactic north. They believed the inbound fleet would probably exit between them. From Federation reports, the cautious Thandol always emerged between those two ranges, normally closer to the upper range to observe the target world first. The Ragnar had arrived closer to the shorter range at New Zanzibar and Tanner’s World, and the Finth were first ambushed thousands of lightyears below the galactic plane when they paused to reorganize, and then again when they arrived at three thousand two hundred miles from One land.

The closer the waiting fleet was to the emerging fleet, and the advance tachyon wave predicting when their arrival was imminent, the navy should have the advantage of firing first. The PU navy, in their caution when attacking the Krall at K1, had also chosen White Outs closer to five thousand miles.

The Federation Kobani and the reckless Krall were two exceptions, often emerging between two hundred to five hundred miles from a planet, closer to the upper atmosphere. That was attributed to their faster reaction times, and consequently a willingness to accept higher risks. That wasn’t a trait displayed so far by any empire fleet, who generally fought considerably less aggressive, physically inferior species.

As it happened, the orbital plane of this solar system was tilted nearly edge-on to the approaching fleet, so both TF 1 and TF 2 were practically aligned with the planet’s equator on its day side. The system’s sun was nearly between them and the incoming attackers. Not that the star itself posed an obstacle to the arriving Thack Delos ships. They were traveling in Tachyon Space, of course, and there were no dense or massive objects to avoid until they rotated to Normal Space. However, it would seem to the inner most navy task force that the enemy would be diving out of the glare of the sun if their guesses were right. That might matter if the classic air combat tactic applied to space warfare and Jump travel.

It didn’t, as was demonstrated seven minutes, and six seconds later.

****

Commander Chenowith’s order came instantly, aware that the same sensor scans were presented on screens in his Weapons Division, the Fleet Combat Center, his pilot’s navigation console, and that TF 2’s primary AI would have anticipated the micro Jump they all needed to execute. “Fire rear batteries and anti-ship missiles. Rotate and micro Jump to close with the rear of their formation.”

The enemy fleet had bypassed both task forces with a close-in exit.

Through his open link to Commander Billsworth, he knew TF 1’s primary AI was calculating a micro Jump to within two hundred miles of New Glasgow, to place them below the enemy fleet, who had emerged in a thick and wide disk formation, with their heavy cruisers positioned on the side closest to the planet.

TF 1’s micro Jump was coordinated with the AIs on each of its one thousand ships, of course, so Chenowith’s subsequent group Comtap warning to them covered the seconds before their micro Jump, through the nanoseconds of the five thousand three hundred-mile Jump itself.

“The TDs have launched missiles, both anti-ship and ground attack.” TF 2 was executing its own micro Jump when the acknowledgement arrived from Billsworth.

“We see ‘em. Hope our stealth is as good as we think. Those missiles are about to pass through our formation. We need to fire at the heavy missiles before they reach atmosphere, which will reveal us to the anti-ship missiles and energy beams anyway. I’m using our Scouts to distract them.”

All forty Scouts had micro Jumped, as originally planned, to the approximate center of the newly emerged enemy formation, where their distributed mass made them individually undetectable, and where their small sized black holes might be lost among the masses of the enemy ships. The smaller holes could also be maneuvered more easily.

Choosing targets of opportunity, the Scouts generated their head sized event horizons, directing them at the centers of the two sizes of cruisers of the TD fleet, ignoring the smaller Egg Layers, each with their six oval Infiltrator ships commonly called eggs.

Quickly, a mix of Exterminators and Marauders started spewing plasma from damaged fusion bottles, but there were fewer of them, and far less explosively than the Scout crews anticipated. The main AI’s of each of the two PU Task Forces confirmed the enemy feet consisted of three thousand nine ships of two cruiser classes, with a thousand one hundred ninety-three of them being the Exterminator heavies, one thousand eight hundred sixteen were the lighter Marauders, with a hundred seventy-nine Egg layers, forming a fleet of three thousand one hundred eighty-eight warships.

Of the combined forty enemy ships targeted, the Scout’s AI’s reported that thirteen heavy cruisers were struck, and twenty-seven light cruisers as well. Yet only four Exterminators showed signs of serious plasma eruptions, while only seven light cruisers showed they had lost fusion containment. The damaged ships appeared to retain significant power, and most of then promptly executed micro Jumps, even as they launched additional anti-ship missiles. They retained combat capability, a result at odds with previous PU Scout experience with hits on Thandol Smashers, and which the Federation reported for equivalent classed of Ragnar and Finth ships. The TD ships seems to be more resistant to the same mode of Scout attacks.

The response of the stricken ships, launching anti-ship missiles, was exceeded by anti-ship missile launches from the other ships of the enemy fleet, proving they had suffered some level of degradation. The entire enemy formation suddenly bloomed with their small missiles flying in all directions, with many staying within their formation, although thousands were shooting out of the sides and edges of their thick disk formation. The missiles didn’t seem to be tracking towards specific targets, suggesting the PU stealth was as reliable as had been hoped.

Hope springs eternal, but can be dashed in a moment.

The ships in TF 1 commenced firing energy beams at the planet-bound heavy missiles, and they also launched anti-ship missiles at the main body of enemy ships, which had stealth that PU missile sensors could partly penetrate. Some of the enemy ships micro Jumped, in what appeared to be designed patterns, staying within their large formation, but leaving the initial tracking of incoming navy missiles off-target, and forced to seek new targets. TF 2 was firing energy beams and anti-ship missiles at the opposite side of the TD formation.

Every PU ship, except the Scouts, promptly micro Jumped each time they fired weapons, never staying where the enemy had just seen them. The Scouts, moving among the enemy formation in random patterns, felt confident their positions remained concealed, because their gravity projector generated black holes that did not reveal their own locations.

All that changed in an instant, when a signal from the TD flagship triggered a quarter of their own anti-ship missiles to simultaneously detonate.

Nearly one thousand small yield tactical nuclear fission warheads detonated simultaneously, spread around the outside and within the TD formation, with none detonating dangerously close to any of the Thack Delos ships. That was due to a friendly-craft proximity protection system, which prevented that from happening.

A sleet of radioactive actinide isotopes from the warheads, gamma and X-rays, alpha and beta particles, neutrons, and short half-life nuclides, were created by the small warheads and sheaths of material placed around them, which suddenly filled the volume of space in and around the enemy formation.

“Holy shit!” Billsworth blurted, as the detonations saturated many of the PUs passive electromagnetic sensors for long seconds. They had not been using radar or lidar, because those radiation sources would reveal the ship using them. “Are these frigging maniacs suicidal?”

He ordered a pull-back, via micro Jumps of Task Force 1, barely after their first energy beams found some targets among the heavy ground attack missiles, enemy ships, and before PU anti-ship missiles had closed the gap.

Had it not been for their Comtaps using tachyon modulation, a radio broadcast in the bursts of electromagnetic pulses and static would have proven futile and lost in the clutter for vital seconds. As it was, a half dozen Scouts, within the confines of the enemy formation, staying clear of enemy ships in the voids between them, died from coincidental blasts by missiles that happened to detonate within a few thousand feet of them, as those sought an empty volume before activation. The quantum controlled stealth coatings of any Scout could react quickly enough to reflect the harmful electromagnetic radiation, and many charged particles were diverted around the hulls or stopped at the surface by magnetic and electrostatic fields. However, despite the dense matrix of the thin stealth coatings, high velocity, electrically neutral neutrons penetrated in a significant, and potentially deadly flux.

The neutrons, with a nearly fifteen-minute half-life were only indirectly dangerous by their decay. It was their ionizing effect that caused the highest risk, as they struck atoms and were absorbed, causing the atom to become unstable, or a nucleus they struck without absorption recoiled, with a subsequent gamma ray emission. If the eventually slowed neutrons were absorbed in body tissues, there was induced radioactivity where the degree of hazard depended on which type nucleus was involved, and its new half-life.

Med labs, and specialized nanites, could ameliorate the damage to a crewmember if implemented within hours. Moderate exposures would become fatal if not treated, but in days, not minutes. The most fatalities, those which were not due to proximity to a nearby hull breaching blast, were created within thirty seconds or less from massive doses of penetrating radiation, but the actual deaths from that dosage would follow hours later, depending on the level of exposure. These subsequent fatalities and ship losses applied to more than just the Scouts embedded within the enemy fleet.

The follow-on radiation damage hit TF 1 hard, because it was closest to the enemy fleet, and the leading edge of the expanding radioactive debris field enveloped nearly a hundred ships, exposing them for long seconds before their micro Jumps were executed.

A portion of the undetonated enemy anti-ship missiles, and the suddenly accurate targeting of TD plasma cannons and heavy lasers, started finding stealthed PU ships with startling frequency. Nearly a hundred of the PU ships of TF 1, closest to the TD fleet, were struck. Those that were hit by anti-ship missiles formed expanding spheres of radioactive debris from fission warheads, which would have surrounded adjacent ships had they not executed their micro Jumps. Dozens of those that Jumped did so with hull scorch damage from energy beams, which created spots on one side of their hulls that were no longer stealthy.

Ten more Scouts vanished under an onslaught of energy beams, because they were unarmored, and somehow seemed to be fully revealed to the enemy. Suddenly an unexpected group Comtap link, using the PU’s secure and quantum encryption, ordered the Scouts to Jump to coordinates on the other side of TF 2, which they did, evaporating the small black holes that were in the process of ravaging ships of the TD fleet. The source of the transmission didn’t originate from Commander Billsworth, as Chenowith would have expected. In fact, the source wasn’t from either Task Force.

Commander Chenowith promptly challenged the man that issued that order. His main AI had, of course, decrypted the broadcast, and he recognized the voice. “Mr. Caldwell, those Scouts were tearing up the enemy ships. How in hell did you obtain that encryption key, and dare to order them to withdraw?”

“Commander, my apologies, but in a few more seconds your remaining Scouts would have been destroyed, even if they micro Jumped within the enemy fleet. Firing from the outside of the radiation and debris field is their only hope of avoiding detection. Commander Billsworth is no longer senior to you by the way, he’s dead, along with his heavy cruiser, the Victory.” Without waiting for the angry response, which he knew was coming, Caldwell hurried on.

“Sir, if you keep all your forces outside of any radioactive debris field, you can keep pounding them. Your stealth isn’t compromised if you do that.”

To his credit, and rapid Kobani thought processes, Chenowith first issued orders that incorporated Caldwell’s suggestions. Then he asked in a rapid and private Comtap exchange, “Well, Howard, do you have any brilliant ideas for how to stop those heavy missiles from reaching atmosphere? Millions are going to die down there if we can’t do that.”

“I’m moving to the upper atmosphere as we talk, to get in front of some of those missiles. I urge you not to waste energy beams on the TD fleet, and go after the missiles with those, as I’ll do. We can’t get them all, but use your missiles and Scouts to hit the enemy ships. From an idea proposed by Maggi Fisher, of the Federation, I’m going to try to talk profit margins with the Thack Delos.”

“What?” The statement sounded like a non-sequitur to Chenowith.

“A negotiation they might listen to, Sir. Fisher has acquired some insight into Thack Delos thought processes and motivations. I’ll try to exploit that information while you make this attack very costly for them.”

“I’m not sure we can do that very well. Not while they stay cloaked in that cloud of radioactive debris. My AI says we can’t target them properly, and they keep micro Jumping, just like we do, so their weaker stealth is helped by breaking our missile tracks. How can we track them in that mess they created? The debris improves the effects of their stealth, the radiation is off the chart, and it messes with our missile sensors. This was a strange suicide mission. The Thack Delos here are dead in a few days anyway.”

“No, Sir, they aren’t. They evolved in high radiation levels on their home world, and they have self-repairing DNA. This isn’t a serious problem for them. On the other hand, that radiation and debris is how they found your Scouts among them, and how they saw some of TF 1’s ships before they Jumped clear of the debris. The AI’s on your anti-ship missiles, if given a simple new program module, can use the same method the Thack Delos used to find your ships too, even in the debris. I predict they’ll set off more missiles within their formation from time to time, to maintain that cloud of crap around them. Look for the shadows, or holes in the radiation and fragments. It’s what they did to find your ships.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s a variation of the entertainment laser sky displays Poldark, and some other Rim worlds diverted to use over their cities, to spot stealthed and slow moving clanships. On Poldark, we used those holes and shadows to find stealthed Krall clanships before we learned how to penetrate their stealth systems. That’s the same level of stealth the Empire and their security forces still employ. We filled the sky over our cities with crisscrossing and sweeping low power laser beams. Although a clanship couldn’t be seen directly, it reflected or absorbed all visible radiation that touched it. We fired missiles and beams at the slow-moving holes. I doubt the TD fleet has ever had that trick used on them, although they certainly know how to use it themselves on us.”

“I’ll be damned. Can you link to my AI, Louie, and transfer the detection techniques?” In a half-cynical follow up question, he asked, “I don’t suppose I need to give you that quantum key, do I?”

“Yes, Sir, you do. Or let your AI communicate in the clear with me. The enemy won’t learn anything they don’t already know, even if they understand Standard. I only had a general communications key for the fleet, not one for your AI, Combat Center, or Weapons Division. I only needed to be able to talk to you during the fight, in an emergency. I didn’t expect to actually need to do that.”

“Fine. Louie, please accept the Comtap data Mister Caldwell will share with you in the clear. You were listening to us, so you understand the context.”

“Yes, Sir.” The AI linked, and accepted the rapid data transfer, and promptly disseminated the tactic to all the ship AI’s in the now combined single Task Force.

That happened only moments before Chenowith yielded his enlarged command, when Admiral Foxworthy, and her twenty-two refitted light cruisers, made their Jump exit at New Glasgow. She’d been in a continuous link with Billsworth, until it had suddenly ended.

Chenowith Comtapped her, and he rapidly brought her up to date.

“Commander,” she ordered, “you will retain tactical control of the combined fleet, and I’ll consider overall strategy. You should continue to use missiles and Scout black holes on their fleet, and I’ll send the twenty-two LCs that arrived with me down to atmosphere, to take out as many of the ground attack missiles as possible. I want you to divert at least twenty LCs for that same task. I was at Poldark in the war, as was Caldwell, and he knows how to organize low altitude atmospheric defenses. Stopping those missiles is a high priority.”

“Yes, Mam. I’ll detach twenty LC’s with orders to coordinate with Caldwell, and with your LCs. Some of the heavy missiles are obviously arcing around the planet in sub orbital paths to attack cities on the opposite side. We can guard the twenty largest cities pretty well, but some of the smaller towns will be vulnerable.”

“I understand. I had my AI inform the Governor what they faced, just after we emerged, based on what Billsworth had told me before his ship was lost. They already had evacuations underway from population centers, but now they need to get their people underground, and sealed off from radiation filled air circulation as best they can manage. This has the makings of a population catastrophe.”

****

Implementer Desh expressed his surprise at how quickly the enemy fleet elements reacted to, and recovered from, what had historically been a hugely successful attack strategy.

“They moved extremely quickly to avoid our radiation envelope. It was as if they expected that tactic, they Jumped away so quickly. I was startled to find so many small invisible vessels merged within our formation. Had I not triggered our radiation shield when I did, we would not have detected their presence among us. They were the source of the small massive objects that swept through so many of our ships, with no warnings of their being launched.”

Negotiator Gelander, never trained as an Implementer himself, didn’t grasp Desh’s conclusion. “I saw the small shadows of the enemy craft among the shadows of our own ships, but how would such tiny ships produce the power needed for such devastating energy? Those were not missiles our mass detectors sensed, and they moved very fast, and reversed course to strike again. They passed completely through our ships. Why do you say the smallest shadows were their source, and not the cruiser mass ship detections we found ahead and behind us?”

“Several reasons, Negotiator. The destructive massive compact objects, which may have been small black holes, first appeared inside our formation with no arrival trails detected, and the small ships were also found inside with them when we first saw their shadows.

“Several of the dense objects vanished simultaneously with the destruction of a small ship, when we fired at their shadows in the radiation field. When the small ships Jumped clear of us, all the dense objects vanished at the same time. The compact objects radiated sharp bursts of gamma rays when they vanished, as if they truly were small black holes.

“Negotiator, I have no idea how the enemy produced them. Nevertheless, their use here suggests how the Thandol, and the other two security forces, may have suffered the profit losses we suspect they have experienced, if they too encountered such unexpected negotiation tactics.”

Gelander was concerned. “Failure of the Thandol to share all the risks involved in this contract is informative. When we accepted their terms without verification, it suggests our Master Negotiator and the Board of Adjusters agreed to a poorly examined contract. We may be dissatisfied with the profit level we will obtain here, but future negotiations will be better informed, and we can demand higher payments to recover lost profits. We will best earn more favorable terms in the future by demonstrating the most successful implementation possible, under this hastily accepted contract.”

Desh accepted the rationale offered by his Chief Negotiator, and decided to adjust his implementation tactics. “Our ground attack missiles appear to be our best means to implement most of the terms of our contract, and if I keep our fleet within a constantly maintained radiation and debris envelop, that should somewhat counter their negotiations to increase our profit losses.

“I will retain our most valuable assets where they are safer, as we remove any of their assets that attempt to reenter our protective field. If we stay alert for their shadows, and watch for incoming trails of dense compact objects, we can shoot at them even as we Jump away.”

In a startling short time, their opponents sent assets into the upper atmosphere to start countering their missile “proposals” before they competed their assigned tasks. At the same time, the enemy initiated a remote form of profit reduction by deleting more of the TD assets. In that surprising negotiation, they revealed an unexpected understanding of how the Thack Delos used their own protective radiation envelope.

Gelander asked, “How are their missiles finding so many of our Exterminator Heavy Cruisers within our envelope? You have replenished the debris and radiation around us, and we Jump within the formation, yet their missiles enter our envelope, and then change direction quickly to go after a different Exterminator. Our HCs are our most prolific producers of fresh heavy missile negotiators, and we are losing missiles from our most prolific launchers when we lose one of them.

“My sensor screens show there are also compact objects appearing within our formation without a revealing trail of their arrival. They are now finding and penetrating more of our fusion generators. Why has that changed from their first attacks from much closer? They seem to have improved their negotiating skills.”

A harried Implementer could only acknowledge the observations his Chief Negotiator made. “The way their anti-ship missiles alter targets suggests to me that their guidance systems understand the shadow effects of our radiation shielding, and an Exterminator makes a bigger shadow than a hard to follow light cruiser. The enemy missiles can find our largest assets, a HC with a large shadow, more easily than a Marauder LC.”

“How do you explain the more frequent destruction of fusion generators by the small black holes? They were only hitting the central generators at the start, so rerouting power to the nose and tail generators, and our damage control systems kept those assets active in our negotiations. Now, we can’t see the enemy ships except when they launch a missile or fire an energy beam, and they promptly Jump when they do that.”

Desh explained something the Negotiator probably didn’t know about Thack Delos ship designs, compared to other Empire warships. “We distribute our fusion generators more widely than do our competitors in the Empire. They each place their triply redundant generating capability near the centers of their ships, and we do not. I think our enemy has learned that attacking our ships from nose to tail, or tail to nose, increases their chance to puncture two, or even all three of our generators. Their black hole weapons seem to be formed within our formation, and if they sense the motion of one of our units, they have a shadow sense of the nose and tail, and attack from those ends. I have just instructed our units to turn more often, to reduce that possibility.”

The Negotiator, observing the overall slow progress, proved himself to be a master of stating the obvious. “They are using our own shadow method of detections to find us in our envelope, and we can’t find them that way out in the open. Only the smaller, and nearly undefended population centers, are experiencing profit losses, except for a single middle sized site. The larger centers, representing most of the planetary investments, have been protected thus far.

“Implementer, your heavy missiles do not have the advantage of a radiation envelope once they enter atmosphere, and are being wasted. I expected you to produce an extension of our radiation and debris shield over their most precious assets, and you have not produced that for us yet. Do you have an alternative to increase their planetary losses?”

“Negotiator, our Egg Layers would be vulnerable in atmosphere, but if they launch their Infiltrators closer to the edge of atmosphere, they may be able to descend to low levels and proceed close enough to larger population assets to penetrate them with a short-range missile. If the electromagnetic pulse is powerful enough, it may shield them when they withdraw, and we might recover those assets and crews.”

Gelander ran a quick cost versus benefit analysis through his mind, and decided. “Six small craft per Egg Layer, with two crew in each, is a small price if even one of them delivers their nuclear weapons on target at a large city. The blasts and radiation will make it unusable by the enemy for multiple orbits, and those present will die within a few cycles at the center, and more within fifty cycles at the edges, depending on how effective their medical technology proves to be.

“I authorize you to spend fifty of our two hundred Egg Layers. We will have three hundred Infiltrators to apply many more negotiating points, with ten small ground attack missiles on each of them. We need to increase their costs far above our current profit losses.”

****

Howard was describing the situation at New Glasgow. “Tet, we’re outnumbered in combat ships, but they aren’t really using their fleet the way the Ragnar and Finth do. Individual ships or squadrons are not swooping down to attack the cities. I’m sure they’d do that if we weren’t here, but they’re devastating the rural areas, and the small nukes are polluting the environment. They keep sending a lot of large missiles at the biggest cities, and we’re scrambling to keep knocking them down.

“Their ships have stayed clustered in their thirty-mile-wide envelope of radiation and small metallic debris, which plays hell with our sensors. The PU can’t Jump into the formation to attack up close, not without being spotted as holes in the flood of electromagnetic emissions. This is comprised of infrared from hot debris, UV, X-rays, and gammas. They refresh the cloud from time to time with fresh detonations.

“Against the planet, they’re using low to medium yield nuclear tipped missiles, both ground attack and anti-ship, but so far none have been thermonuclear. These warheads are designed to be dirty weapons, taking advantage of their own species relative resistance to tissue and DNA damage from radiation.

“The PU will need to load up and divert as many med labs here as possible, with the limited supplies of nanites that are programed for radiation damage and repair. We’ve managed to take out all the large missiles aimed at the big cities, but they were destroyed in atmosphere, and even undetonated, the warheads are blown apart and pieces are falling on the countryside. Small towns of a few thousand people, up to ten or twenty thousand have been hit, over thirty-seven of them so far, because we can’t stop every missile. The big population centers are getting the lion’s share of our efforts. I’m over the capitol, keeping my promise to Governor Goodfem to help protect them.”

“Isn’t Foxworthy taking some sort of toll on their fleet? The Scouts and her cruisers don’t have to Jump into their formation to attack.”

“The Thack Delos are using your tactics within their own formation, to frequently micro Jump, and they’ve started making frequent turns of their ships to avoid the black holes projected by the Scouts. Their fusion bottles aren’t clustered at the center of their ships, which is different than with other Empire craft we’ve encountered. We can’t knock out multiple generators with one hit. The rate of attrition will need to increase significantly to get them to leave before the planet suffers serious environmental damage, which could make many places uninhabitable for decades.”

“Maggi said you were trying to talk to them, to work on a deal to withdraw in exchange for helping them oppose the Thandol. What was their response?”

“No reply at all. I used the Thandol simplified pidgin language, and Ragnar Fotrol. What have your ten Scouts discovered at their home system? Did they manage to talk to them?”

“Like you. No reply. What few space defense forces they kept home were sent to try to find the stealthed Scouts, and they fired whenever they thought they might have found one. Never came close to our people, so our Scouts started attacking their space based facilities, and any military ships they found under repair, construction, or on patrol. That is likely less damage than they’re apparently willing to tolerate at New Glasgow.

“Maggi now believes they will refuse to abandon an existing agreement they have until it becomes grossly expensive to them. They surely have the same long-range instant tachyon communications of other Empire fleets, so there must be two or more ships they keep rotating in and out of Jump status, for communications with home. I’ll guarantee you they know our Scouts have attacked them, but they haven’t caused enough damage to force them to pull back.

“I’m in consultation with Max Born about combining Scout gravity projectors, trying to think of a way ten Scouts can trigger enough damage in their home system that the Thack Delos leaders will take notice and call their fleet home. Not being able to attack their surface installations deep in a gravity well is limiting our options.”

Caldwell was also listening to a crew member as Mirikami spoke.

“Uh Oh. My communications specialist, Andre, just picked up a general warning from Foxworthy to her ships in atmosphere, who are also defending cities like we’ve been doing. The TD fleet has mini carriers, which transport six oval ships, each slightly larger than a Scout. Fifty of their Egg Layers Jumped to the edge of atmosphere several minutes ago, launched their six Infiltrators, and then micro Jumped back to their formation.” He paused.

“Hold on. She’s sending an update.” It was brief.

“Damn. The PU sensors says those three hundred ships dove to low altitudes, and then turned towards the fifteen largest cities on this side of the planet. Sorry Tet, I need to go. Gonna be busy.” He broke the link.

****

Max Born didn’t have much to offer. “Tet, the Scouts can’t reinforce each other’s projection fields to combine their strength, say three of them to equal the confinement power of a Mark II’s single field. Your own ship’s projectors could extend a one-foot black hole all the way to the surface, and probably below surface a hundred feet, depending on local gravitational anomalies. Even using all ten Scouts together, their ten individual small event horizons would lose their Trap field tachyons, and evaporate at about the same altitude. Ten black holes, sent in a formation, would have little impact on the planet when they evaporated well above the surface. I suppose the gamma ray bursts would be hazardous.”

“Probably not to a Thack Delos.” Mirikami was feeling discouraged.

“Max, I’m looking for a way to combine the Scouts gravity fields to do something noticeable, to get the enemy’s attention at home, forcing them to recall their fleet before it turns New Glasgow into a radioactive wasteland.” He gave an example of what he meant.

“At Wendal, I had only five Scouts, and we pulled down the orbits of those Crusher pieces, then we sequentially attracted atmospheric bulges to higher altitudes to increase drag, causing the sections to fall out of orbit. There are no low orbiting large docks or stations to use like that, and they wouldn’t do the degree of damage we want to inflict.

“This species may be resistant to the radiation from their home binary stars’ solar flares, but they aren’t entirely immune. Athena Christopoulos, leading the Scouts, said they use heavy radiation shielding on installations above atmospheres. Their second inhabited planet keeps one face towards the central binary stars, but they only live on the backside, and use shielded equipment to mine on the side always exposed to the flares.”

“Ten Scouts could use large black holes to pull at their atmosphere, like you did at Wendal.” Max offered.

“To do what? I said there’s nothing large in low orbit to bring down with drag.”

“How about opening a hole for solar radiation? I don’t know how powerful a solar flare is from their binary stars but you might disperse the ionization layer that surrounds nearly every planet, or disrupt their planetary magnetosphere. Magnetic field lines, and ionosphere must provide protection from most of the charged particles.”

“You may have a point. As a Spacer, ships I’ve served on or commanded have encountered coronal mass ejections in various systems. But, the Thack Delos, as they evolved, have survived a million years of what must have been frequent increases in solar activity from their close binaries. Besides, we’d have to be patient and wait for a CME headed for the planet.

“In fact, Athena says the Scouts have had to micro Jump several times a day, to stay clear of random mass ejections as they navigated around that system. A CME at exactly the right time, and us thinning the planetary ionosphere and disrupting the magnetosphere would have to happen together to…,” Mirikami paused, and started pulling at his lower lip.

His sudden smile implied a plan had occurred to him. “Thanks Max. I have questions that are outside your field of physics, but I know where any Spacer can get the answers. I need to talk to Athena when I have those answers.” He turned away, already engaged in a Comtap link.

****

Mirikami established a link. “Admiral Foxworthy? Mirikami here. The Federation may be able to apply some leverage for you, against the Thack Delos at home. If it works, their fleet may be recalled. I have ten Scouts in their home system now.”

“Hello Tet. I hope you’re right. Things on the planet just turned very bad thirty minutes ago, after they sent in three hundred of those small Infiltrators, launched from Egg Layers. They have an estimated seven hundred seventy-four more of them to use, although few of the three hundred they sent in the first wave are going home.”

“How bad is it?”

“Wallace, the capital, was hit with four small nukes, all low-level airbursts. And Aberdeen, their largest city, took a larger heavy attack missile, and five small ones, and they will have massive losses of life. Governor Lamore Goodfem was in a deep shelter below the Wallace government center, and she can radio out to us. She and her staff are safe, but blast effects and radiation are taking their tolls on people that couldn’t get to deep and insulated shelters with air filtering. There were nearly three million residents in Wallace before evacuation started two days ago, and roughly half were outside the city when the missiles broke through our defensive cover.”

“Caldwell was speaking to me when he told me of your warning about the Infiltrators. He was with some of your ships, protecting Wallace. How did the missiles get through?”

“They detonated a heavy missile just inside the atmosphere above the city, before we could destroy it from orbit. The EMP messed with our sensors and they couldn’t detect all the low altitude missiles incoming. There were three hundred Infiltrators, spread between twenty of the larger cities. Wallace is the capitol and second largest, and Aberdeen the largest city, so they each received a greater share of attention. Twenty Infiltrators, with ten nuke missiles apiece attacked them from tree top levels.

“They would have been hard pressed to stop them all anyway, but the EMP was coordinated to come just after the small missile launches, so their sensors were effected during the critical seconds they needed to bring them down with lasers and plasma bolts. As each missile detonated, they added to our sensor problems.”

“Howard must be upset. He thought your ships and his could hold them off.”

There was an awkward pause. “Tet, I’m sorry to tell you this. Howard didn’t make it. His clanship and one of my light cruisers were struck directly by two of the small nukes. Those are apparently repurposed anti-ship missiles, and when the EMP hit, the enemy missile targeting systems must have used the intense reflections from our stealthed hulls to turn directly towards them. They were positioned over the city, almost in their path anyway.”

“Oh Damn. Howard was one of the people I first met in Human Space, when we got off Koban and reached Poldark. We’ve been friends a long time.”

“Me too. I was a squadron leader assigned to defend Poldark when the Krall invasion started. He was my friendly buffer when I had to deal with the more abrasive version of Nabarone. Henry became much more mellow as the war wore on, and I can finally attribute that to his secretly becoming a Kobani. I learned yesterday that Howard had converted too. I’ll miss him, and I know Henry considered him one of his best friends.”

“I’ll have to break the news to Chief Haveram. He’s mine and Howard’s friend, and his business partner. I was calling to tell, you, and him afterwards, that if you can hold them off another day, the TD might decide to go home and clean up a mess my people are going to make for them there. At least I hope so. Watch for signs of a pull out, within a day or less.”

“How can ten Scouts there do what forty of them here couldn’t do? I’m down to twenty-four Scouts now, and the TD fleet shows no sign that their somewhat slowed, but still continuing losses are too much for them to bear. They must consider the damage they’ve delivered is worth the cost. They surely expect to return here to claim this radiation damaged world if we can’t force them to leave early, because they are the only species from the Empire that can live here after they pollute the atmosphere. What will your Scouts do that we can’t?”

He was a bit cryptic. “They’re going to try to hit their home planet with something they normally don’t worry about, and make them more vulnerable when that happens. If it works, I’ll tell you how it’s done, if it doesn’t work, I’ll blush, because it’s my idea, and then try something else, just as soon as I can think of anything else.”

“Gosh. I can’t tell you how inspiring and reassuring that sounds.”

“Well, stay tuned for my next pronouncement. It could be a dandy or a dud. In either case, all it requires of your fleet is to keep banging away at them. I’ll bet you were going to do that anyway.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I try to bang that drum harder and faster.”

“Admiral, I hope you bang the crap out of these immoral bastards. Even the Krall said nukes were forbidden. Although, it wasn’t out of their sense of mercy. Mirikami out.”

****

Athena looked at the two red suns from the side, with the gap between them showing the tidal bulges of their mutual attraction. “OK, folks, let’s start a family argument between mom and pop Delos.”

Ardan O’Brian, who had served and fought with her before, asked a frivolous question. “Which is mom, and which pop?”

Captain Salada Gupta quipped, “Doesn’t matter. Smack ‘em both and start the fight. The AI shows we only have eighteen minutes to start their argument, or wait almost a day until they return to this point in their binary orbit. New Glasgow can’t wait that long.”

They had taken recorded observation of the two stars and fed their orbital positions, relative to where Dolbor Gen Delos was in its planetary orbit, to a more powerful AI than a Scout had, to calculate when to trigger instabilities in the magnetic field lines between each of the red dwarfs. The shallow depth their largest black holes could descend into the gravity well of each star meant they wouldn’t come close to surviving to touch the photosphere, the surface of the stars. Nevertheless, they could affect the extensive plasma filled coronas of each of them, and apply twists and tweaks to magnetic field lines out there, using rapid gravitational interactions to shift the plasma that guided the field lines.

Much like sharply snapping the end of a rope, doing that to a magnetic field line hoop in the corona, well above the photosphere and above the most intense gravity, it should generate waves down both sides of the magnetic field loop, which carried energy between the photosphere and the corona. That way, they could indirectly reach down to the region where the Scouts couldn’t send their event horizons. It was believed this would spur surface activity near the photosphere, which in turn would react to snap the magnetic field lines back in the other direction. The goal here was to trigger multiple such magnetic “snaps” on each star at the right locations and at the right time, to provoke more powerful magnetic interactions between the two stars at their closest points, where they bulged towards one another.

Intense magnetic field changes were the source of most flares from stars, and those were often followed by coronal mass ejections. If they could force CMEs at all, they wanted to do so just as the gap between the orbiting stars was moving towards the target planet in its more distant orbit. There was uncertainty in how quickly a CME would be generated after a flare, if it did at all. However, many generations of solar astronomers observing various type stars up close had taught humans that smaller stars reacted more quickly to magnetic fluctuations, and they had two of them here to play with.

Athena had them start the process before the alignment was reached, to build up tension in five magnetic field lines of each star, to twist them. “Group 1, on my mark, let your AI’s work with mine to project your gravitational focal points in the sequence Tet’s AI on the Mark, thinks should yield a series of magnetic snaps. Group 2, follow O’Brian’s lead on the same mark. Let your own AIs rotate the holes out of Normal Space all together, to produce five simultaneous magnetic kinks above each star. Then we watch what happens.

“Ready…, start now!” Her AI was the master time keeper for this, based on calculations of Jake, back at Koban. By spreading out the timing of five kinked field lines on each star, it was hoped a wide pattern of flares would be triggered, and perhaps the CMEs they needed, sent in a broad sweep towards Dolbor Gen Delos, the home world.

Because of the rapid rotation of the two stars, the large black holes generated were not allowed to pull at the corona and magnetic lines for long. Otherwise, the lines might snap free on their own, out of sequence. In barely a minute, in rapid succession, ten event horizons rotated into Tachyon Space, instantly releasing the pull that had retarded the movement of the coronal plasma, which sustained the magnetic field lines.

Through the heavily filtered images on their view screens, it didn’t look like anything had happened. They were looking initially at the wrong places, where their targeting screens had indicated the focal points had been for their gravity projectors. The action wasn’t up there.

It was far below those places, where the first indications of a back reaction appeared. It was a darkening of the photosphere in a string of spots on each star that proved they had done something. Dark was a relative term, since the sun spots on the stars were radiating light from matter at intensely hot temperatures. But not as high a temperature as the surrounding photosphere. They had manufactured ten small active regions, five per star.

Suddenly, evidence that the field lines had sharply readjusted came in a brightening of the coronal plasma, where those magnetic lines had snapped back to where they should have been, heating the already hot plasma by millions of kelvins, producing electromagnetic radiation across the spectrum. An impressive sight initially, but that was tepid compared to what came next.

The magnetic field lines between each star clashed, and converted the two star’s orbital speeds into a magnetic smashup that rapidly grew larger and more intense. The glows in their coronas above the opposing sun spots brightened rapidly, and streamers of glowing matter, composed of electrons, protons, and heavier ions, started rising and following the arcs of the magnetic lines, now becoming more visible with their glowing presence. A series of five coronal mass ejection was starting, and it was increasing far beyond what the Scouts had expected to initiate. Mom and Dad were pissed, and smacking the crap out of one another.

Athena said, “We need to get out of here. This is getting intense, and we’re too damn close. Jump half the way to Dolbor Gen. We have time to watch from there, and check on how large a CME this will be, and what direction it will take when it breaks free of the magnetic fields.”

Because the system’s habitable zone was so close to the two dim suns, half the distance to the planet was only about two light-minutes from the star. A CME travels far slower than the speed of light, but the rising glow of material flowing out from between the suns was quickly evident. It took minutes longer to observe the spread of many billions of tons of solar plasma, heated to tens of millions of kelvins, to determine that the outward motion of its hottest and leading edge wasn’t centered on the targeted planet. They had fired a bit too soon it seemed, and the fastest, most energetic material would arrive before the planet did when it crossed its orbit in five or six hours. However, it was an extended and broad CME, and the middle and trailing parts of the plasma would sweep past the planet, staying mostly in the orbital plane of all the planets.

For their first shot at creating this effect, it wasn’t a bullseye, but probably adequate for their purpose.

Athena linked to Mirikami. “The mass ejection is working Tet, and much of it is headed where we wanted it to go. A lot of hot plasma is going to sweep past the planet. This would be really bad news for Earth, or most settled planets, frying their unhardened electronics and satellites, and dangerous to unshielded people on moons or in orbit. With their strong planetary magnetosphere and a healthy ionosphere, the surface would stay safe from direct radiation, but their power grids, communications satellites, and moon installations are at risk.”

Mirikami was hopeful. “Jake has historical data about hundreds of thousands of solar storms from thousands of stars, and how they interacted with their planets. Many of them had highly depressed magnetospheres from the pressure of the solar wind, but rarely had holes if the planet had a strong magnetic field. They leaked heavy ions to the upper atmosphere, but an intact ionosphere helps limit how powerful the currents were that are induced in the transmission lines of power grids. Fusion bottles use electrical power to maintain confinement and plasma densities, and they produce that power themselves once the reaction is self-sustained. However, they are still connected to that external power grid to get started, and then to distribute the electricity that fusion energy delivers, via steam turbines, or direct power converters, to send to their cities. A massive current surge on those lines may short out the circuits at the fusion plants that connect to them.”

Mirikami explained the implication of this. “If we make holes, or thin spots, for that CME to get through the magnetosphere, we might fry even the hardened circuits the Thack Delos built as protection from their active stars. If we create a path for heavy ions to reach the middle atmosphere, there will be cascades of radiation and charged particles downward from each molecular collision. Possessing self-repairing DNA doesn’t mean there’s no limit to the damage they can accept.

“Even if that limit isn’t reached, their bodies will need to divert considerable resources to repairing and correcting the damage. A sick, weak, and exhausted population won’t fight or produce war material efficiently. Their biosphere will also suffer, and less resistant plants and animal life will suffer.

“They need to eat something that they raise or harvest, and we’ll kill or ruin some of that. Leave them as hungry as people on New Glasgow are going to be.”

“Well, then my squadron’s next step is the most important. I guess we need to Jump closer for the next phase.”

“Yep. Keep me informed. New Glasgow has suffered an estimated eight million dead, and millions more will die if they can’t get med labs and specialized nanites in the quantities required, as quickly as needed. If the TD are successful there, their fleet will target a new world, after returning home for resupply. A Federation world might be next, so I want them running home today, and then decide to stay there. If they intend to survive to negotiate another contract, they’d be smart to not accept another one offered by the Thandol, at least not to attack the Federation or Human Space.

“And if they don’t stay away, from us and the PU, I’ll personally lead a squadron of new Mark II’s, which are close to completion, and I’ll repeat what you did, but on a level to make their home world uninhabitable. Maggi says they have seven colonies, five of them still somewhat radioactive, which once belonged to species that the Thandol grew impatient with, and turned the Thack Delos loose. Once they finished their attacks the worlds were habitable only by the Thack Delos, and their transplanted plants and animals.”

Athena quoted a biblical proverb. “Live by the sword, die by the sword. In this case, it’s radiation used as swords.”

“I suppose that’s true. Justice delivered, in kind.”

****

Chief Negotiator Stendal Gelander spoke formally to the fleet, as if standing before the Board of Adjustors, and the Master Negotiator. Abrogation of a contract was serious business to the Thack Delos, although it was normally the action of a subservient species to which the term applied. To do so on a contract accepted from the Thandol, on behalf of the Emperor, elevated this matter to a higher level than any that Gelander had ever had a part to play.

“Contract Implementer Jentor Desh, you are hereby informed that you have properly Implemented the negotiations placed under your control.” This was to prevent a misunderstanding on his part, that he was being declared a poor Implementer.

Nevertheless, aside from the formality of the words, their mere utterance implied something had gone drastically wrong here at this targeted planet. There had been higher costs than they had anticipated, but Desh was preparing to send another three hundred Infiltrators down to the planet, to increase enemy losses to improve their own side of the symbolic balance sheet. That was despite the nearly ninety eight percent loss of the previous Infiltrators, which failed to return safely to their Egg Layers. This ominous statement would logically be followed by some mitigating explanation concerning why it was required. It was not delayed.

“Implementer, I have received a secure communication, via the Negotiator encrypted channel, when one of our instant long-range communications Marauders performed an unscheduled replacement of the Normal Space communications cruiser. There was a sensitive message addressed to me, with no provisions for applying any of the contract options, or of continuing our current negotiations here.” He paused, before completing the more difficult next step.

“The contract with the Emperor is to be abrogated, and Implementation must cease as quickly as possible. The fleet is to return home immediately.”

Desh’s expression of confusion came as close to an emotional response as most Thack Delos achieved. To his credit, he did not ask for a fuller explanation, and promptly issued orders to all fleet elements to cease offensive missile launches, and set missiles already enroute to targets to now proceed autonomously.

Only defensive operations would continue, as internal micro Jumps provided evasion from continued enemy attacks, until a simultaneous group Jump was properly coordinated. The flagship AI set a Jump time, with a designated pause point specified for organizing the fleet elements and aiding damaged ships. This was when a transfer of personnel could happen, to provide needed expertise where Implementation Expediters had been eliminated; in other terms, where crew members had been killed that possessed skills that needed to be replaced, some personnel would be exchanged.

The Jump was executed on schedule, with the ignored enemy communications attempts still being broadcast at them, with offers of a new contract to replace the one now being abrogated.

At the pause coordinates, above the galactic disk, the fleet quickly pulled itself into a more orderly semblance of the original formation, and urgent damage repairs performed, or the ship abandoned and blown apart, once the crew was salvaged. It was in this interval that Gelander informed Desh that he needed to order his fleet elements to be prepared for a possible fight upon exit at the home system, and to prepare for defensive measures there, followed by relief efforts at multiple habitats that were subject to solar flare exposure.

That was when the explanation of the disaster at home was provided to Desh, and to the unquestioning, but intensely inquisitive members of the fleet.

“A possibly subcontracted force, representing the enemy here, sent a small number of ships to our Delos family, with similar capability to the small ships we faced today, which have some new form of gravity control well beyond Jump capability, and more than our internal ship gravity and inertial control and compensation. Here, we faced many small, and in several cases larger event horizons, which easily penetrated ship hulls, and even the dense armored material of fusion generators. The black holes appeared within our formation, and thus were somehow projected from ships outside, after we drove those ships away at the start of negotiations. It was only our sensor confusing radiation and particle cloud, which aided our stealth systems, that enabled us to avoid greater destruction.

“I assure you, the enemy counter negotiations, although more effective than anticipated, are not why we departed the target system before we had Implemented the contract negotiations to the extent we intended.

“The order came from the Board of Adjustment and the Master Negotiator. The Federation somehow used their gravity control to trigger our Delos grandparents into a quarrel, exchanging magnetic blows, and showing their strength as we have all seen so many times in our long history of watching them. This was not as great a storm as we have seen even within our own lifetimes. We have seen worse, and some that led to blows being directed at our mother, Dolbor Gen, as has also happened many times. This time, the provokers intervened, and somehow contracted with our grandparent suns to send the blows at our mother.

“Our people took the usual family precautions, to shield ourselves and constructions from the approaching cloud of particles and radiation, a cloud much like what we created in our formation today, only much larger. The enemy had already destroyed many of our space based facilities before provoking our grandparents, while simultaneously trying to call to us to negotiate with them while they implemented an uncontracted negotiation against us. As we did here, our leaders refused to talk and negotiate with them while exposed to their aggressive implementation methods.

“Then, they did something we did not expect, and exposed Gen Delos to the fight between our grandparents. They used their gravity control methods to open our mother’s natural protections, which have always shielded us from such family disagreements.”

He chewed at invisible gristle to show his frustration, and rolled his large eyeballs in their sockets to express his concern at what he must tell them.

“When the solar storm of particles pressed on the magnetic hair around our mother, it pressed it closer to the atmosphere, as it does for every storm that hits our home. There have been worse storms. There is always leakage of charged particles to the layer of ions at the top of the atmosphere, and they rarely penetrate deep, without being deflected towards the poles, to make the beautiful lights in our skies. Like the glow of our skins when strong electromagnetic radiation bathes us.

“That is when the negotiations implemented by the enemy entered a realm we have never experienced, and is why we have been called home, to guard our grandparents, our mother, and ourselves from such future contracts. They used gravity to lower the magnetic hair more than normal, pulled strands aside, and drew up the ionosphere and parted the magnetic lines enough to permit solar particles to rain directly into the middle atmosphere.

“The secondary radiation became very strong, even painful, overdriving our ability to convert the energy to a biological repair mode. Our people had never needed to hide in their lifetimes from incoming radiation, and our plants and food animals in the fields could not do so. Many plants and animals died, and there will be hunger.

“At the same time, the surge of electrical currents in our power delivery grids grew much larger than our protective circuits could block, and the currents damaged and shutdown many thousands of fusion generators, destroying power distribution centers, and crippling electronics and appliances that have seldom failed in past storms. Many of our cities are dark. There are residents on moons and asteroids without power, who may not survive for the three days we need to return home. We will Jump immediately, and you know now why we return home early, and what we will face, and perhaps be forced to confront the enemy that implemented this detrimental negotiation. They may have departed the home system, but without adequate sensors, the Master Negotiator and Board of Adjusters cannot know.”

He paused a moment, before deciding to pass along the final information from home. “The last message sent by the enemy who were at our home, claimed they were from the Galactic Federation and that they do not rule the planetary system we just departed. However, they are allied with the defenders and residents of that target world. They claim that the planet the Thandol contracted with us to punish, is ruled by a different government, called the Planetary Union.

“The Emperor has contracted to pay us to implement a punishment on the wrong recipients. The Emperor’s contract specialists claimed they only intended to force the Federation to submit to their negotiations, and merge with the Empire. The Federation promised that if a future hostile takeover negotiation with us is necessary, the implementation will result in rendering our mother world’s death, and that Dolbor Ver will die with her when the entire Delos system is made uninhabitable. They repeated their offer to help us pursue a contract against the Thandol, and repeated that they would join us to implement a contract on the Emperor’s capitol world, Wendal.”

There were displays of annoyed simulated gristle chewing among many of the Thack Delos, right up until the Jump was initiated, and considerable eye-rolling after that, over several days of discussion.

Chapter 9: The Silha

After a stressful period of separation, the group of friends congregated in the Great Hall of Prime City, for a barbecue, beers, and a gab fest. Sarge, displaying his usual polite sensitivity, posed a noisy question over the other chattering voices.

“Tet, the Emperor’s surely been told about the string of security force failures. How much of a breather do you think we might get before he reacts? The Hothor told us he has his metaphorical pants around his ankles, staying out of sight while he pukes, and shits his guts out in his stinky palace.”

Mirikami, seated at the same table, was delighted to express his appreciation of the subject matter. “Why, thanks heaps for that pleasant image, just as I raised my drippy shredded rhinolo meat sandwich for a juicy bite.”

Thad, a fresh swig going down, snorted beer from his nose and sputtered his laughter.

“Darn it, Sarge.” Noreen complained. “Calvin was about to try his first taste of rhinolo barbeque. You spoiled his appetite too.”

“No, he didn’t grandma,” her four-year-old grandson countered, proving she still didn’t grasp the rules of the boy’s club. “Uncle Sarge and Uncle Thad said the butt is the best tasting part.” He took a big bite to test that assertion.

His subsequent “Yum,” confirming that the alleged rhinolo butt really was delicious, did nothing to dilute the glare she aimed first at Sarge and Thad, and then at her grinning son and husband.

Only mildly contrite, Sarge persisted in asking for Mirikami’s opinion. “Do you think they’ll reconsider the annexation, or just regroup and come at us in a combined force?”

Maggi intervened, before her husband followed an age-old male urge to talk with his mouth full. “The Thandol can’t back away from the annexation attempt yet. Although, we don’t have to fear a combined mixed force attacking us. There is zero chance of the Thandol trying to encourage cooperation between their security forces, even if any of them were willing to do so. If they learned to work together, they might decide to attack the Thandol.

“The Thandol’s ego won’t let them fight with a subservient species at their side. They have never done that in their long history, making them conservative traditionalists. I think the High Command will do a better job of coordinating and scheduling the Security force attacks in the future, to prevent us or the PU from gathering all our forces to repel one attack at a time. They know the Thack Delos met a different sort of military force at New Glasgow, encountering PU navy cruisers for the first time. Our own Scout squadron at the Delos system made it clear that we are separate military entities, but are allied.

“They’ll want to learn more about both of us before they go off halfcocked again. That was uncharacteristically impulsive of the Emperor to do that. We’ll get a breather, but I can’t say for how long, not until our Hothor and other allies, servants in the noble households, hear what is being discussed behind the scenes.”

Mirikami swallowed, sipped his beer as he organized his thoughts, then told them of a strategy change. “We need to take advantage of any pause to build up our forces, and I won’t repeat the mistake I made when I misjudged how an Imperial Herd Master would react to having his dominance challenged. I made him look weak internally, when us low-life outsiders attacked him personally, twice, for the first time in their history.”

He held up a hand to stay the supportive words he knew were coming. “I don’t mean we shouldn’t have attacked their bases and repair docks. But rubbing Farlol’s trunks directly in the dirt two times at Wendal, pushed him beyond his natural instinctive caution. Our secretly infecting him with parasites was a good idea, because he has no idea we could do that.

“However, our blowing up his personal Crusher over Wendal, with a broadcasted warning for them to leave us alone became a personal insult to him. We meant it for the entire empire, but that isn’t how he felt. Next, we returned to Wendal and crashed the broken Crusher pieces onto his capitol world, then planted a fake palace conspiracy scenario to worry him that he appeared weak to his internal opposition, and that there was a movement to overthrow him.

“Using that strategy, I pushed the Emperor past an emotional threshold that our Thandol prisoners couldn’t feel. Those two are not driven to become sexually dominant Herd Masters, their ambitions chose physical and social dominance over others for their ego boosts, and they liked pushing around and impressing weaker species to fill those needs.

“We didn’t have the right personality types as prisoners to question, and I failed to understand the different motivation of the Emperor, and of those that would be disposed to replace him as the Imperial Herd Master, with their pick of the most desirable females. Those types of Thandol males are more emotional in their responses to threats to take away their perks of office.”

Ethan asked, “What else can we and the PU do while we add to our fleets? If we kick them in their butts while they think things over, we might restart their attacks. Even if we only hit the Security forces.”

Mirikami considered the alternatives. “Scouting their systems more thoroughly is one. There are nearly a hundred Thandol settled worlds we’ve not investigated. We can also learn more about the other subservient species we haven’t met. Some of you might be interested in that. Others of you might want to participate in tests on stars in various sterile systems in our region, using the gravity projectors of our newest Mark II class ships. What Athena’s Scouts accomplished in the Delos binary system might be possible with differing types of single stars, using the larger gravity projectors.

“Even the Mark II’s don’t have a quarter of the gravitational power a Dismantler can focus, and we know they can reach into the cores of super Jovians. Our Scouts, ten of them working together, only tugged at magnetic field lines above two slightly unstable small stars. We may encounter a situation where we could trigger a more massive single star to send a solar flare at a planet, like a weapon. We can try that to force the Empire to back off if they refuse to leave us alone. We could learn if that’s even possible, to use a star as a last-ditch mass destruction weapon.”

The eagerness of the younger Kobani to participate in this study was dampened, when Maggi unexpectedly squelched their enthusiasm for the experiments, casting a pall on the previously good mood in the Great Hall.

“Employing this capability, if we could do it, might lead to the extermination of all the higher lifeforms on an entire planet. We all thought the Krall were abhorrent because they used the Dismantlers to do that. They killed trillions of intelligent beings over the course of their long rampage in the Orion Spur. They held that terrible weapon over the heads of enemies, to force them to fight a conventional war which let the Krall win gradually.

“Having the capability, and then finding an excuse to use it are easily combined. We want a means to stop an enemy that threatens our survival, but if doing that gives us the means to destroy life on a planetary scale, we must decide if developing that ability for our survival is justified. That knowledge will eventually spread, and we will encounter other enemies that may wage the same type of war on us. Look at what the Thack Delos did, with weapons we banned a hundred years before we left our home system.”

Carson looked chagrined, but resolute. “I think we Kobani, with the empathy gained from Mind Taps, can be trusted to not indiscriminately wipe out entire inhabited planets.”

“I believe that, for us.” Maggie submitted. “However, we’re only part of humanity, and humans have done terrible things in the past. The Gene War was terrible, nearly on the level of killing our own species. As evidence that I too experience fear for our survival, I perhaps have deluded myself into believing that we Kobani will act with reasonable restraint.

“Because of that, I agreed with Tet, that we should at least find out what we can do with gravity control on larger, single stars. But once we demonstrate and use such technology, it will inevitably be duplicated by nonhumans, and without the benefit of our Kobani Mind Tap empathy for others.

“Having said that, we have learned today that it is possible that we might not be allowed to proceed in that direction. There could be a higher power that can stop us, to prevent us from gaining the level of technology required to destroy other species on such a grand scale.”

Dillon, knowing Maggi’s skeptical scientific mind, knew she didn’t idly speculate about a higher power judging humanity. “Who would stop us? And How?”

She nodded his way, “That’s exactly what I asked Gith Prola when she Comtapped me this morning, within a few hours of Tet discussing with me that we might conduct such testing. Prola called within minutes after Tet Comtapped President MacDougal on Haven for approval, and received his permission.”

“The Olt’kitapi named Gith Prola is who called you?” he asked.

“Of course, knucklehead. Have you heard of anyone else with that odd name?”

“Good point. How did she know what Tet proposed? Was that just coincidence?”

“I doubted it could be coincidental, but I assumed it had to be because of the distance, and our having held no discussions with the Olt’kitapi. Except Prola left me with no doubt when she explained why she linked. She informed me that someone contacted her and Frithda via mind enhancers, to say it was coming for a return visit. It said it wished to meet with them, and with Tet and his mate, then it identified us by our full names, and was fully aware that Prola and Frithda knew us. It also claimed it wanted to finally see the system where the newly restored Olt’kitapi intended to build their Excelsior multi species habitat. It spoke the Olt’kitapi language fluently with them, and knew the name selected for that future habitat.

“Prola said it told them it wanted to experience Tet or me in person. The word experience was used deliberately by Prola, and not simply that it wanted to meet us. She thought that was the most accurate translation from her language to Standard. This mystery visitor wants to determine if humans are to be permitted to do what Tet proposed.” She saw Dillon’s mouth about to open.

“Before you ask the next obvious questions, I too wanted to know who the visitor was, where it was from, how it knew about Tet and myself, and what we planned to do.”

“And?”

“Prola said the visitor called itself The Silha. She emphasized that it definitively was not spoken as ‘I am Silha,’ as a personal name, or ‘I am a Silha,” as one example of a population. In the very precise Olt’kitapi language, it was as if it said I am The Olt’kitapi, or I am All Humanity, as if it is one thing for an entire people.

“It managed to both intrigue and impress Prola and Frithda immensely, but not for what it called itself or knew about them or about us. It was in how it contacted them without first possessing what we always call the address, or the quantum code pattern needed to connect to a specific Comtap, Olt, or memory enhancer. There are effectively an infinite number of those code pattern addresses, most of which have no use, such as for a communications device, a front door code, or your eighty billion-digit lucky lottery number.

“As Max Born explained to us one time, the available number of codes create a stupendous quantity of wrong numbers to hit if you try linking to them randomly, just to find one that is in use for tachyon communications anywhere in the Universe. Even then, you need the format of modulation used for the signal, and it might also be encrypted, as Comtap links can be now. Prola and Frithda obtained Tet’s and my address patterns once, by detecting two unknown repeating patterns at the start of modulated tachyon signals, when we thought we were speaking confidentially prior to meeting them for the first time. We had elected to avoid Comtap via radio, to avoid signal detection via tachyon communications. They only knew it had to be us communicating together because of our proximity and visibility to them, and the repetitive nature of our responsive exchanges. They admitted they didn’t know which prefixed address pattern was his and which was mine, so they surprised us and linked to both patterns simultaneously, listening to what we said in our unencrypted discussions.

“We were impressed, and concerned that they had that capability, and could identify and intercept meaningful tachyon signals between us, and isolate the address codes used. The Silha is so far away, it has now truly impressed them!”

“Maggi, I don’t want you to insult me for asking this again, but where is it from?”

“Don’t be silly. Impatient morons don’t understand insults.” She smiled sweetly, as the old Maggi he knew and loved shined through the deceptively youthful curls and dimples.

“The Silha said it first visited this region just after the time of the deaths of the original Olt’kitapi. It congratulated Prola and Frithda on the Olt’kitapi survivors having recovered their history by installing old mind enhancers, and it welcomed the renewal of their briefly postponed multi species habitat construction.”

“Briefly postponed? Twenty-three thousand years is brief? Were they in stasis with the Differentiators?”

“Smart conclusion Dillon, but no. Prola asked the same question. The visitor said it had never visited or monitored in this galaxy prior to the assumed extinction of the Olt’kitapi. It said it arrived from a different galaxy to investigate the event, at the request of the previous species that had monitored the Olt’kitapi and this galaxy.”

“The visitor is extra galactic? Holy shit!”

“Our grandson is listening grandpa,” came Noreen’s stern warning to Dillon.

A knowing smirk on the four-year-old’s face proved he’d heard, and the lack of interest proved it wasn’t a new word to him. In addition to a careless speaking grandfather, he had a lot of “uncles.”

However, he had heard a new term that wasn’t part of his growing memory matrix, and didn’t appear in the files he was permitted to access in his age restricted Comtap. “What’s extra gatic mean, Grandpa?”

“The second word is galactic, Calvin, and the term extra galactic means that the visitor says it comes from outside the Milky Way galaxy, which is where we all live.”

Sarge, displaying his own curiosity, and a lack of a real astronomy background asked, “Where would that be? The Madge Atlantic Clouds?”

Quick to grab the correct word from an allowed astronomy Comtap file, Calvin proudly redeemed his previous misstep, so his grandpa could hear him use a big word. “They’re called the Magellanic Clouds, Uncle Sarge.”

There were appreciative chuckles, but Noreen patted the boy on the head, kissed his cheek, and sent him off to a nearby play area, by describing an irresistible attraction. “Kim brought her four new cubs to play with the kids today. If you hurry over to daycare you can let them frill you before the other kids finish eating.”

Snatching up his half-eaten sandwich, he did his best impression of a Blue Streak antelope, running between tables, and athletically dodging around unaware people standing in the way of the excited little boy.

Mirikami quickly turned to his friend, seated across from him. “Stay put Sarge. Noreen will let you go play with the ripper cubs later. You asked a perinate question. One that I spent a little time exploring with Jake, after Maggi told me about Prola’s communication.”

Unperturbed at the mild dig, he asked, “How could your AI figure out where the alien came from?”

“It didn’t, but The Silha informed Prola that it would appear in time for the agreed meeting at Excelsior. That’s in four days. Maggi and I leave here in two days, and will arrive a half day early, so it couldn’t be more than four days away at T-cubed travel.”

Hopeful his mispronounced earlier guess was right, Sarge repeated, “The Magellanic Clouds after all, huh?”

“Nope. Still a bad guess. At close to 160,000 lightyears distance, the large one is about twenty-five travel days away, and the small one is over a month away. There are a few closer and smaller dwarf galaxies, but even those are eleven or twelve days from the galactic center, and days more than that from Excelsior, which is on the opposite side of galactic center from them.”

Mirikami shrugged. “I don’t know where The Silha will be coming from, but since it implied it had never been to Excelsior, that isn’t where it meant by its return. It must be returning to the Milky Way itself, but it can’t be more than four days away, which is barely outside the disk. Jake couldn’t find anything special above or below the galaxy’s disk, such as a globular cluster that is within four days of travel from Excelsior.”

Thad expressed his worry at the new player, suddenly thrusting itself into an already complex mix. “What if it takes the Thandol’s side? That’s possible if it won’t approve our use of a new means of deterring the Empire from its attacks on us. We didn’t start the war, and we’re the weaker side militarily, even with the PU counted as a full ally. We don’t need another enemy.”

Maggi disagreed with that assumption. “I don’t think The Silha will do that. Take a side, I mean. Aside from our not knowing how much power their assertion implies they can apply. It knew about the Olt’kitapi in the past. It was apparently pleased at the revival of their species, and accepts that they are prepared to renew their multi species habitat. If they approve of them, and their use of Dismantlers to break apart planets, and we are helping and protecting the Olt’kitapi, why wouldn’t they accept that our intentions are honorable?”

Mirikami rubbed his lip. “Perhaps it’s because I didn’t propose to use gravity control to build or move anything for peaceful purposes. I’m looking for ways to use our new gravity projectors to damage an enemy. The Silha seems to act rather aloof. If it really was around, and monitoring the galaxy right after the Krall revolt, it didn’t apparently show any interest in stopping what the Krall did, and Thandol Empire did and are doing now. This so-called monitor left them alone.

“It may be our use of gravity projectors that has drawn their interest. I intend to meet them and find out.”

****

It had been two years since Mirikami had seen the super Jovian, which he’d learned the Olt’kitapi now called Egg Mother, in consideration of their intent to use its core for the bulk of the building material of the eventual thousands of planet sized habitat shells, or eggs, that would be constructed in this system. The Olt’kitapi’s initial living quarters had been established using multiple inflatable habitats placed on the moony, a terrestrial sized habitable planet that orbited the ten Jupiter mass gas giant.

That smaller world would also eventually be dismantled for use in constructing three or four habitat shells. For now, as one of the lumps of matter that would give birth to Excelsior, it was simply and temporarily named Egg, and it provided a base of operations for the makers and builders of the Olt’kitapi.

The former Krall dome, which once housed the the Guardians of the Dismantler ships, was nowhere to be seen. The circular landing tarmac that had surrounded the Krall structure was now two-thirds covered by a large translucent dome, with dozens of airlocks positioned around the base, there only to maintain internal inflation pressure, since the moony’s atmosphere was breathable. It was made with the material the Olt’kitapi had once used to cover and mask their hidden presence on Canji Dol, the second world in the Hothor home system.

Mirikami was seated in the Pilot’s chair on the Mark’s central Bridge, Maggi was at the Communications station, Carson and Alyson sat at the Navigation and Weapons consoles respectively, the latter being inactive today.

Kobalt and Kit were laying on cushioned acceleration couches nearby, morphed from chairs into flattened lounges for their use, but straining the observer’s seating designed for a human’s or Prada’s weight. Kobalt had threaded his tail through the opening used for the Prada’s prehensile tail, while Kit was twitching hers at the tip, where it curved around her flank. Both were eager to meet what was a new species to them, and they had implored “Uncle Tet,” to be included on the trip. At least the Olt’kitapi was a new species for them to meet. It wasn’t determined yet exactly what The Silha was, or represented, or if they would meet it.

Carson and Alyson came along to be the “spare thumbs” if the rippers needed human hands for anything, while Tet and Maggi were meeting with the Olt’kitapi and The Silha.

The elongated bean shape of the Mark emulated the shape of the larger Dismantlers, with the Bridge also placed at the center of a middle deck. For ships with Normal Space drives, able to fly in any spherical direction the pilot desired, and that could micro Jump from orbit directly to a landing area, neither end was truly a bow or stern. It required no specialized aerodynamic streamlining for high velocity air flow while making a fiery reentry. The curved hull made a form following event horizon possible, and easier to project without including more than a molecule thick layer of atmosphere to carry along, should it Jump from inside an atmosphere.

Two gravity projectors, one installed in each of the rounded ends, operated together to achieve precise control and focus of the strong gravitational fields they produced, either close to the ship or at considerable distances. Mirikami was relatively confident that it was this capability that was at the heart of The Silha’s sudden interest in humanity.

After coordination with Frithda, Mirikami instructed Jake to Jump the Mark to a point above the tarmac, on the side of the habitat that was in line with the super Jovian, which filled the horizon with its cloud striped beauty in that direction. Egg was tidally locked, with one face always towards Egg Mother, and the ancient shield volcano crater where the habitat rested was half way around Egg from a point where Egg Mother would be directly overhead.

After the ship emerged with the usual soft pop sound, it settled gently to the tarmac, where one of the habitat pressure locks was less than fifty feet away. Outside the lock were two Olt’kitapi figures, one tall and a light shade of purple, one shorter and green, with brown and tan markings on its abdomen. Prola and Frithda stood on their spindly legs, triangular heads looking at the Mark, their large compound eyes sparkling as they refracted the rays from the red dwarf sun, off to the side of Egg Mother and higher in the pinkish sky of the habitat.

Egg had been exposed to the increased warming radiation of that small, but nearby reddish tinted sun for two hours. Although the moony had been kept warm enough to avoid freezing temperatures on this face, by infrared radiation from Egg Mother for the time the giant planet had eclipsed the sun, during that part of Eggs orbit. The moment of the Mark’s arrival had been specifically selected so that the added heat of the small sun would produce a warm breeze for the humans. Their hosts knew that Koban was a planet of seasonal extremes, but humans liked their moderate springtime weather best. At this portion of Eggs orbit, the outside air came closest to that temperature. The Olt’kitapi were considerate hosts, applying their considerable knowledge of such trivial details to accommodate their guests.

When the hatch on the side facing the habitat irised open, the white colored hull’s surface tinged by the red sun, the four Koban and two rippers walked smoothly down the extruded ramp to the red tinted grass, which was the most common foliage on this Egg Mother side of the moony. The graceful sinuous gait of the humans matched that of the teal colored big cats, and the three quarters standard gravity of Egg made them very light on their feet, at what was to them half their normal gravity.

The two Olt’kitapi walked towards them as well, their four supporting legs moving quickly in an odd seeming insect leg pattern, which provided continuous tripod support when moving that slow. They could walk on just two legs to employ the middle limbs simple grasper hands, or use their upper limbs in walking or climbing, which they did less often.

“Greetings, friend Tet and friend Maggi. Please identify your companions.” Prola’s single digit gesture of her left hand, her arms held up in that mantis-like pose, also invited the introduction. Her voice came to them via their Comtaps, spoken in perfect Standard.

Maggi noted the similarity of her opening welcome to that of their AIs, mimicking how the Dismantlers spoke, whom she conversed with more frequently.

Nope, I’m wrong, she thought. It’s the Dismantlers that mimic the recorded Olt’kitapi mind patterns they were given.

Taking the lead as she had previously, as a titular ambassador of the Federation, Maggi made the introductions. “The female to my right is Allyson Martin, her mate next to her is Carson Martin.” She paused the introductions as both Alyson and Carson automatically extended their right hands towards the two Olt’kitapi.

She hadn’t thought to discuss this with either of them in advance, but Prola handled the matter in her typically direct manner.

“New friends Alyson and Carson, I am already aware that humans do not care for the Hothor body fluid offers in their greetings, so I am certain that isn’t what is intended by your extended hands. However, I recall a mention of a handshake gesture you humans use, which if I may spare you possible injury without also offending your sensibilities, I suggest we merely nod our heads, or bow, as I saw Maggi and Tet do when first we met.”

She explained. “Our finger-like digits are not as soft as yours appear to be, and we have a few sharp edges and pointed tips on ours. There is no need to extract any of your blood performing a needless gesture of friendship. We already consider your people to be our friends.”

The couple lowered their hands and bowed slightly, and Alyson spoke first. “We’re pleased to finally meet with the Olt’kitapi. Although, you may be unaware of a recent genetic adaptation we Kobani have added, to defend ourselves from the Thandol Debilitater radiation weapons. We were at no risk to shake hands.”

“We do know of that antiradiation enhancement. I was referring to doing tissue damage to your hands from our grip, and not from some form of radiation from our limbs. You are an intelligent and fast thinking people. You must be implying there was an additional benefit conferred by the same genetic modification.”

Alyson nodded. “Yes. Our skin is now also scratch and cut proof, and puncture resistant. Battle tested, I might add, against knives and claws. With that said, I find a simple bow a satisfactory gesture.”

Carson added his own words. “I agree with my mate, friend Prola and friend Frithda.” He repeated his slight bow.

The two Olt’kitapi pivoted their triangular faces towards one another in a rather human-like manner, looked back at their guests, and in unison each dipped their upper thorax slightly, effecting a bow.

Maggi, unable to suppress a grin, started a turn towards the rippers for their introduction, when Kit spoke up using her Comtap, demonstrating her sense of humor and ripper informality.

“Greetings Prola and Frithda. My name is Kit, I’m a ripper with no hand to shake, and your digits are not as dangerous as our teeth, so you don’t want us to grip them with our mouths. Not if you want them back. How about if we each just wiggle the tips of our tails?” She demonstrated with a dexterous flip of the end of hers, as she pretended to stare expectantly at the obviously inflexible exoskeleton plates at the posteriors of the two Olt’kitapi.

The two insects seemed momentarily confounded by her request, before Kobalt came to their aid. “My sister believes she has a sense of humor. My name is Kobalt, and your suggestion to nod our heads to acknowledge our introduction works for me.” And he demonstrated.

There was a brief audible chittering sound. Prola and Frithda each swiveled their heads down in a nod to the rippers.

Frithda said, “Greetings, friend Kit and friend Kobalt.”

“It appears,” Prola added, “that humans and rippers share more than a few genetics. We have previously experienced human examples of humor. You just heard our laughter, a trait we also evolved, suggesting that most intelligent beings appreciate the absurdities of incongruous words and actions.”

“These two rippers,” Mirikami informed them, “were the first ever raised entirely with a human family. Their minds are a blend of human and ripper thoughts, but rippers in the wild had a well-developed sense of humor before humans met them. As you know, we derived our Mind tap ability from them. The rippers have an ethos, a set of beliefs if you prefer, founded in large part on their ability to read the minds of their prey. Yes, they are predators and kill to eat, even enjoy the kill. But, they have a sense of the value of the lives they take and don’t kill needlessly. They have fought and killed Krall to defend their home and families, and their prides. Humans are part of their extended prides now.

“We humans have also fought and died to protect them. By sharing their telepathic ability, I believe that we Kobani have incorporated some of their ethos. Not entirely, because we evolved with different evolutionary drives, but they have had a moderating effect on our baser instincts. As the Koban gene mods spread to more humans over the centuries, I predict they will be passed to most of the trillion people in the Planetary Union, and then all humans will experience the moderating influence of Mind Taps.”

Prola sounded encouraging. “That may be a factor in your favor, when The Silha experiences you, to determine the probable future for your species, if you are to be left unmoderated.”

“Unmoderated?” Maggi asked. “What did you learn about it? You must have found references of its interaction with your ancestors. What do you mean by experience us?”

“We found no reference to The Silha, and it did tell us it arrived in the Milky Way after my ancestors were dead. We discovered an earlier encounter of my ancestors with a different advanced being, which seems similar. It contacted my ancestors long after their development of their first gravity projectors. It came to them only when they dismantled the first test planet in a star system with no life, to develop the techniques for isolating the debris to use for constructing sample habitat shells.

“Our records report the being had said it monitored my ancestors from a distance when they built and used their first gravity projectors. Prior to the planet dismantling, it had no imperative to learn more about a Type one species, but placed them in monitor status when they developed the tools to advance towards a Type two species.”

“A Type one or two species?” Mirikami was intensely interested.

“Yes, these are the terms I found in a copy of the human library you provided to us after we first met. It is written about more than once, of a description of how advanced a people are.”

“I’ve heard of a term that sounds like that, called the Kardashev scale, but that classifies civilizations by how much energy they control. It wasn’t a species measure.”

Prola said, “Species that advance to control all the energy output of their planets, are advanced to Type one from Type zero, then controlling the energy of the stars of those planets is Type two, and spreading to control the energy output of much of the galaxy that contain those stars is Type three. The species inevitably evolve and change as they develop the technology over a lengthy time. My ancestors achieved Type one status, and then proved they had built the tools and knowledge needed to evolve and advance to a Type two species, or call it a civilization if you wish, but our species also evolved and changed as we advanced. We did, and so has yours, although humans appear to have partly skip the slow progress of both technology, and of your own evolution.

“It was the first planet my ancestors dismantled that drew attention. That was when The Jing|!| arrived to experience them.” The sound she made resembled the word “geng” with the soft pop of a pulled cork at the end.

Mirikami wanted clarification. “You believe it was like The Silha, but called The Jing, with a pop sound at the end that I can’t easily speak. The Silha is now coming to meet you, and humans as well?”

“Yes. To experience a people that now possesses and has used the tools of a Type two technology and species.”

Mirikami patted his lower lip. “Experience. There’s that term again. You Olt’kitapi are here to be experienced again because you are starting your habitat construction with gravity control. How does that involve humanity? We may have settled a lot of planets, but we’ve not used our technology to use all the energy of any one of our planets.”

The two insects pivoted their heads to stare at each other again, then with a brief chitter of insect laughter, they looked back at him. “Your humor has greater depth than expected.”

Maggi realized they had misunderstood her husband. They clearly thought Tet was joking in some fashion, so she allowed them to think that, but acted as if she were the one that had missed the point. “Are you saying it is not here to experience you? Whatever that means?”

Frithda was kind. “It was your mate’s subtle humor, friend Maggi. My species was declared ready for progress to a Type two species long ago, and that has not changed. As Friend Tet understood, The Silha is only here to determine if humanity has evolved enough to be trusted with the tools of a Type two species. It was amusing of him to humbly suggest otherwise.

“Although, humanity has bypassed part of the technology of completing all the phases of planetary energy control, which defines a Type one species, by repeatedly moving to new stars before you ran short of energy. That isn’t unexpected for a daring and adventuresome species like yours, who expands rapidly, and adapts to, or changes unsuitable planets to meet your needs.

“The keys we think for humans to have reached this point so early in your history, is the degree of evolution, both physical and technological that you have attained, with the borrowed and embedded Comtaps with instantaneous long-range tachyon communications, combined with your extraordinary borrowed genetic enhancements and superconducting brains. Then, you took one of our gravity projectors and replicated it for your use.

“Yes, we determined how Tet managed to do that, when he properly prevented Huwayla from inadvertently destroying an inhabited planet. From that technology example, you were intelligent enough to replicate it and learn how to use it as a powerful tool, and as a weapon. It doesn’t matter how you arrived at the threshold of a Type two species, The Silha knows that you have.”

Mirikami shrugged, and gave Maggi a concealed wink at her cleverness to pull that information from their hosts. He wasn’t that deep of a humorist. Now another key question needed an answer.

“What is The Silha, and the other one that met with your ancestors?”

“We cannot know for certain, nor did our ancestors, but we suspect The Jing|!|, and The Silha, are representatives of a Type four or higher species.”

“What would that be, if a Type three civilization harnesses the energy output of an entire galaxy?”

Prola said, “You continue to equate a civilization’s Type level with the energy use of that species. There are questions you have not asked or considered. Could it not evolve further without using its technology to control the entire energy output of its home galaxy? Would a species continue to evolve after achieving Type three? Would it need to harness an entire galactic cluster? You Kobani have bypassed most of Type one, why could not other species bypass other steps? As I suspect your impetuous species will also do.

“For unfettered Type two species, with perhaps three or four arising within each galaxy in its early history, capturing the output of nearly every star in every galaxy would be inevitable, given enough time. The Universe we live in is nearly fourteen billion years old. We Olt’kitapi spent a hundred fifty thousand of your standard years after reaching space to achieve the threshold of a Type two species, and we developed at what we believe is a typical rate, as have the Thandol, and to a lesser extent their security forces. The Empire’s subservient species are stalled by the Thandol, until the oppressors evolve, or lose control.

“You humans went from Type zero to the same threshold our ancestors reached in only seven hundred standard years. What does that imply to you? Think of the age of this galaxy, and the age of the Universe, and what you see when looking out into the Universe.”

Mirikami saw where she was leading. “We still see billions of stars without Dyson swarms or spheres around them in the Milky Way, and billions of old galaxies still glowing. We can’t see the most distant galaxies as they might look today, but I’d bet they are the same as those nearby. If they didn’t go dark, there may be no Type threes after all this time, perhaps they skipped that step, or were prevented from dominating an entire galaxy. The Milky Way should have been completely settled by now, densely populated with the early species that arose long ago, and would be mostly dark. Do you think the first Type threes became Type fours, and have halted the process elsewhere?”

Prola countered. “If they allow Type twos to enclose as many stars as they want, that would still dim a galaxy after this length of time. The Jing|!| did not threaten to prevent my ancestors from building Excelsior, nor did The Siha suggest it would prevent us from doing this. It also did not specifically say it would prevent or slow your own species from advancement to a Type two species or civilization. It may do so after it experiences you, if it is not satisfied.”

“Darn it,” Mirikami complained. “What does that mean, experience? Satisfied with what? Do the records say what The Jing-pop did with your ancestors? Excuse my mangling of their name.”

“We don’t know, Friend Tet. The Olt’kitapi that met with The Jing|!| did not discuss what happened. Not where we have been able to locate records, anyway. This is all we really know of them, and our suspicion that they are beyond a Type three species is a logical extrapolation without evidence. The Silha will arrive in a quarter of one of your days and we will know then.

“Are you hungry?”

The sudden change of subject was jarring, but the offer was welcome. At least it was until the choices of food was presented. Only humans and their hosts had palatable choices, because the rippers were unexpected guests.

****

A meal of fruit, nuts, and water finished, the four Kobani were adequately sated, although Kim and Kobalt were less than thrilled with any of the fare, of mostly assorted fleshy leaves and cooked or raw insects that the Olt’kitapi had to offer. The brown and dried thumb sized worms were the least repulsive smelling thing at the waist high pedestals the Olt’kitapi stood at to eat. The cats, having eaten several hours before they left the ship, lapped at bowls of cool water.

The atmosphere within the inflated and compartmentalized dome was more oxygenated than the outside air on Egg, and was surprisingly fragrant. There were hundreds of pots of plants that Tet and Maggi had not seen on Canji Dol when they met with the Olt’kitapi there. Inquiring, they learned these were not plants native to the Hothor worlds at all. Using their own ships, they had traveled to some of their lost worlds, and retrieved plants and shrubs gone wild from former gardens. Their ancestors had enjoyed cultivating and breeding colorful leafy plants and flowering shrubs, particularly those that were aromatic. It seemed the insects had an eclectic taste for sweet smelling beauty. The six visitors roamed among the unusual plants, pausing to speak to other Olt’kitapi, and the cats frilled any aliens that asked them to do so. After two hours of this, only a sharp word from Carson prevented a bored Kobalt from performing an embarrassing act, unsuitable as a guest of such gracious hosts.

“Kobalt! No! You can’t mark that bush.”

Sniffing it again, after having circled it in a recognizable fashion that Carson knew all too well, the cat complained. “It smells insufferably sweet. And it’s colored the same blue as plants at home. Pee would improve its smell.”

Wagging a finger in admonishment, Carson decided it was time to do what he and his wife had been invited along to do. “Why don’t you and Kit return to the Mark with me and Alyson, to get some red meat. It’s close to time for The Silha to meet Uncle Tet and Aunt Maggi. It asked for them by name, not us.”

Mirikami, amused, watched Kobalt start back to the Mark, with Carson, Alyson, and Kit watching him until he was out of the dome. He’d lapped up a lot of water at their unsatisfactory not-meal, so his desire to mark wasn’t entirely a matter of claiming territory.

Prola and Frithda approached, presumably to escort Maggi and Tet to wherever The Silha’s ship was expected to land.

Maggi asked, “Will we watch the landing from outside? If it normally spends up to a year or more traveling between galaxies, I’d think its ship would be large. Perhaps the main vessel will stay in orbit, and it’ll micro Jump down in a shuttle.”

“Friend Maggi,” Prola answered, “it shared nothing of itself, or its mode of travel. Nor do we know how its predecessor arrived to meet our ancestors. It only said it would seek myself and Frithda, wherever we were, and requested that you be with us, if you agreed to appear.”

“How long do we have to wait?”

“The arrival time, which we carefully coordinated with mind enhancer timekeeping, is upon us.”

“Where is it then?” Mirikami asked, as a very soft pop sounded a few feet in front of him.

“The Silha has arrived.” Frithda pointlessly replied.

It was as impressive an arrival as it was unimposing. That it could appear inside the inflated dome, amid the four creatures that were awaiting its arrival was astonishing. That amazement was offset by an appearance that was entirely unthreatening, and which was in clear contrast to the power it claimed to represent.

The Silha stood there, in its towering four and a half feet of grandeur, a bipedal, silvery skinned, scrawny armed, naked, stooped figure, with two large eyes and a greatly outsized oval skull.

It looked up towards Prola and Frithda looming over it on its right, chittered in an Olt’kitapi chuckle, and said in their language, “We are pleased to renew our acquaintance with your promising species.”

Turning to face the two humans to its left, only a foot or so taller, it spoke in unaccented Standard. “We are intrigued to meet your unusual young species, with your potentially dark, and simultaneously a possibly bright future. We have traveled far to meet and experience you, to determine if you warrant monitoring for continued advancement, perhaps with moderation, or require suppression.”

Maggi was put off by its simple and sudden appearance, and its directness. It was speaking as if it were capable of wielding considerable power over humanity. She asked, “Where’s your ship?” She’d anticipated being impressed by an overwhelming presence, arriving in huge intergalactic vessel that commanded awe and instant respect.

“You see it before you.” Seeming to sense her thoughts, it said, “You expected a pretentious display, like a clumsy yet weak Crusher. Perhaps if I triggered a supernova somewhere?” It laughed softly.

She blinked. “Could you?”

“Of course, but then my controllers would never have advanced to achieve elevation if they would do that. Showy displays are for insecure Type one species. Your small Scouts, which have destroyed Crushers, are examples of inauspicious applications of real power over grandiose pretensions of power. They are also, like the ship you arrived in, examples of the tools for application of power that you may not be mature enough to for us to allow you to apply.”

“You just arrived, what can you know about us?”

“In the interval while we have conversed, we have examined the entire body of your libraries in your Comtaps, and of the larger database resident in Jake, the rudimentary artificial intelligence of your ship. Your records and history are unremarkable, except for their extreme brevity before you suddenly appeared in the galaxy, displaying Type two characteristics.

“You are a fledgling example of what your own basic astronomy has speculated should be a Type one civilization. Which we, and your Olt’kitapi hosts, would identify as an evolutionarily marginal Type one species. You were discussing this very subject before we arrived.

“Yet, we learned remotely that your young species is currently exploiting the beginnings of a Type two gravitational technology, and remarkably are also displaying unmistakable evolutionary markers of an equivalent Type two species. You have not used the typical amount of real-time to achieve either of these markers. We now know your species has not stumbled upon, let alone mastered, the mathematics of higher dimensional levels, which would be required to bypass the time required for such advancement. The Olt’kitapi know these dimensions exist, and suspect they are reachable, but they require more time to evolve and learn.

“Monitors hope the Olt’kitapi will progress to that level, after they have lived among and learned from the many species that might share Excelsior with them. Those resident species at Excelsior may also rise in turn, after the Olt’kitapi have evolved and are elevated. The Olt’kitapi are a type of species we hope for as future neighbors, and partners. You are one we did not expect, and could not predict, but may also be welcomed for your novelty.

“It is rare in many galaxies for a species to rise as rapidly in both technology and evolution as you appear to have done. It is rarer still for such a rapid rise to be beneficial to the many slower rising, possibly more deserving species who share the galaxy with them, which they may make extinct. If they become extinct by your rise before you advance to a Type two, monitors are not permitted to do more than express an interest, and our estimation of which is more deserving is not relevant. Natural selection has proven to be an effective means of tempering the characters of those that succeed in advancement beyond Type one.

“After a species advances to reach Type two capability, many other species could perhaps be eradicated by overt actions, or via inadvertent actions of reckless application of new technologies, for which their unevolved minds have failed to predict the negative consequences for the future of elevated species.

“The monitors that observe the rise of intelligent species are not allowed to select which species will survive, or that will advance beyond their youth. Most species will never achieve Type two status because they are mentally incapable, perhaps they will destroy themselves while still a Type zero, as you nearly achieved, or will be destroyed by equally youthful neighbors. That has happened by the tens of thousands within this galaxy alone, at its current age.

“Candidate species on the threshold of, or within Type two status, are capable of being monitored remotely via their gravitational technology. They can be dissuaded from, or prevented from eliminating neighboring species if they apply that technology for that purpose. Prior to achieving advanced gravity control, their ability to destroy another species is limited to other youthful species, using less dangerous technology. After that, they may threaten candidates that have also reached type two status. The monitors will watch those species, and perhaps regulate them.”

For the two Kobani listening to this, their minds were swirling around the implications, and reeling with the number of questions they wanted to ask. They were conversely struck mute for a moment when The Silha suddenly ceased speaking.

In that brief interval, the small silver figure offered a very human gesture. It extended its right hand, the four long digits slightly spread, towards the closest human. “Tetsuo Mirikami, we offer a token handshake of your culture, and a promise that there will be no malice involved in our decisions concerning the future of your species.” How comforting, and chillingly indifferent.

Mirikami, although surprised at this gesture from the shiny little alien, didn’t hesitate to accept the contact. As he extended his hand, he asked, “What will you learn about us when you experience us?”

Their hands clasped, and he obtained an answer.

****

A flood of mental replies reached him, with no more than a consensus being apparent from the huge flow of innumerable minds, which washed over Mirikami and made him feel lightheaded. Yet his mind felt heavy, as if it was being overfilled with myriad thoughts, each with their own concept of the appropriate answer to his question.

He had tried the old Mind Tap trick, to focus the mind of the individual he was about to touch on a subject that he initiated. It worked, but not like he expected.

“Slow down! It hurts. I can’t understand you all at once.” He didn’t know if he shouted that, or if it was sent only via Comtap. Nevertheless, it had an instant effect. The flood of minds diminished to one cool, rational voice, which was still received via Mind Tap, but also by Comtap link.

“Remarkable. My controllers and I knew you had a form of telepathy, unique to your variation of humanity, a trait rarely encountered. Your ultrasensitive nervous system is also considerably more conductive to thoughts than they or I appreciated in advance. Your thoughts were intense in their arrival to us, but were divided between many recipients. Their return thoughts were not as weak in their combination when I unintentionally relayed them to you in their multitude. I have been granted greater autonomy by my controllers and acted promptly. I lowered the intensity of what proved to be an unanticipated strong mutual experience between you and my Silha controllers, who were linked to you through my presence.

“In your terms, this would be described as an extraordinarily unusual event. There is nothing in the details recorded of your base society’s records that prepared them, or me, for this capability. Earth is larger and heavier than ninety six percent of the worlds that develop intelligent life, and it is not rich enough in the heavy metals and rare minerals that could produce the infrequent evolutionary advantages from that availability, such as organic superconducting nervous systems. That evolutionary development is seldom seen even when those materials are widely present in a planetary crust.

“That library of human history and achievements did not hold any details of your unique genetic changes, and your own Comtap, because you are not a scientist, does not contain technical specifics of your enhanced nervous system, only a broad description that failed to alert us of its superconductive nature until we made physical contact.

“The record from your mate’s Comtap, examined only now, revealed the origin of your capability, and furnished us with the specific genetic changes. The explanation of why that genetic technology did not appear in the larger human library is now clear.

“On Koban is where your new branch of humanity obtained its particular genetic diversity. It happened very recently in human history, and its secretive aspect limited the spread of the achievement to the remainder of humanity. That was a result of sensible resistance to this risky biological science, which nearly led to your extinction, and only the pressure of another extinction event, posed by the Krall, forced you to adapt. You have combined three traits from non-human life to increase your mental capacity, as well as a robust physiology, which is less important.

“Your brain’s improved memory organization, gained from the wolfbat genetics, is common to many Type two species. All Type twos eventually have devised equivalent electronic or quantum based technologies to supplement their biological minds, such as Comtaps, to organize, preserve, and make quickly accessible, a great store of knowledge within themselves.

“Finding the widespread organic superconducting nervous system of Koban life was far rarer, and the ripper brain mutation to use that rare nervous system as a conduit for thought sharing, produced an exceedingly rare combination.

“Your three-way combination of these is something the Silha have never encountered in a pre-elevation species. We admit, as a younger elevated species having monitored Type Twos in only the nearby galaxy cluster, there is a far greater volume where this combination may have appeared previously. We will share the discovery with our more distant neighbors, to seek precedents, and learn if any species like you has survived to achieve elevation. A novel discussion will certainly ensue.

“We predicted you had enhanced your native genetics, based on older records of the genetic experimenting of your species. Extinctions are common in species that extensively meddle with what evolution and their technology makes possible.”

Noting the change in the use of we, me, and my, in the conversation, and the cool silvery hand of The Silha, with its highly conductive surface, something clicked in Mirikami’s now relaxed mind.

“You are a construct, are you not? When you called yourself The Silha, it was as their intermediary for physically interacting with the species they monitor. It was some of their minds I sensed, when I asked what you would learn when I was experienced.”

“Yes. I am what you might call their physical avatar, and they detect, or feel, if that conveys a term more relatable to you, what my many sensors collect. You know of the artificial minds of the Olt’kitapi Dismantler and Differentiator ships, which are representations of their creator’s mind patterns. I am a more advanced equivalent, with considerably greater capability.”

This was all happening at the rapid Comtap speeds possible, but Mirikami knew Maggi had to wonder why the two were still touching hands seconds later.

“I can sense your thoughts, the avatar informed him, “and I now shield you from most of those of my Silha controllers. I will link to your mate via Comtap, sparing her the disorientation you experienced, and I will simultaneously explain to the Olt’kitapi that we are in communications.”

A second later, an updated Maggi asked by Comtap, “What is it you experienced dear? You stiffened up, and your face looked strained. I knew what you were doing by asking that question. What did you learn? You didn’t seem to receive my Comtap inquiry.”

“We’ll discuss that afterwards, love. Not that I’m sure it will be private. I just now had a thought about what you must be thinking, and I did not intend to share that. The Silha form you see here is an artificial construct, an avatar, which I assume is modeled after the people that built it. It sensed my shielded thoughts, and linked to you.”

He was letting her know that they couldn’t shield their thoughts, but of course, the artificial being with them would know they were aware of that fact. It might be impossible to prevent it from detecting their every thought, expressed or not. This was a bit of their own medicine back at them, like when they met a new species that didn’t know how to mask their own thoughts.

Prola and Frithda suddenly turned away, presumably after a private contact from the avatar. They strolled through their gardens, now mingling with other Olt’kitapi that came to join them to share what they had learned.

The avatar resumed its conversation with them. “I believe the Jing|!| will send their avatar back to this galaxy, to closely observe the Olt’kitapi as they progress through their reentry into a Type two technology, and eventually become a full Type Two species. They need no monitoring, but there is pleasure in the observations. The Jing|!| avatar departed the Milky Way after its controllers felt the disappointment of the loss of a species we expected to successfully reach elevation.

“My controllers, the elevated versions of the physical form of the Silha I am built to resemble, as you surmised, will continue to monitor you, primarily because of having encountered such a seldom experienced surprise. There will be some overlap with two avatars in the same galaxy, but curiosity doesn’t vanish when a species is elevated, on the contrary, curiosity is revived when a surprising young species is detected.”

“What do you mean by elevated?” Maggi asked.

It deflected rather than answer her directly. “You wondered why most of the stars still shine in old galaxies, long after early Type twos should have spread to become type Threes. Very few new Type zero species would ever evolve to advance, if any could, in a galaxy whose stars fell to the exploitation of the first Type twos that spread to every one of them to become a Type three.

“Space is expanding, and that expansion is accelerating. In the far future, all galaxies will be farther apart than the visible horizon limit set by the physical laws of this Universe, and light from none will ever reach a neighbor galaxy. The galaxies will eventually shed stars from their edges, and they will spread and burn out. It would become very dark and lonely for the sociable elevated species. We want many interesting neighbors to visit. The distances and rate of expansion isn’t an insurmountable barrier. This isn’t the only Universe in an infinite cosmos, but this one is home to the species that originated here. Even if no longer corporeal, they like the companionship of fellow but varied and different minds.”

Maggi asked, “How will they communicate and visit one another if the space between galaxies is so vast? And if space is spreading far faster than the velocity of light?”

Mirikami thought he saw a flaw in her view of that future, and sure enough, the avatar pointed it out to her. “You think like a Type one species, having skipped ahead to reach the brink of a Type two. Do you think what you call T-cubed travel is the ultimate mode of travel? This avatar form was in another galaxy when I initiated travel to where we are now. There is no true universal time, but from your perspective, one instant I was monitoring a pair of Type two species in a small galaxy that your astronomers have named M32, a satellite of your slightly larger neighbor you call Andromeda. In the next instant, I was here.

“Time isn’t real, and its perception can be manipulated like the eleven physical dimensions your physics calls M-theory, and is related to string theory, both being aspects of a complete quantum field theory. Your scientists and theoreticians learned enough to develop a field theory to reach into Tachyon Space, and found it possible to transfer energy from that Universe to this one, and could use that energy to crudely control basic gravity here. You learned to travel though the lower dimensional levels of Tachyon Space, and like you learned from Olt’kitapi technology, you now use what you call level three of that space. The eleven dimensions there are not tightly curled up in the same manner as they are in this Universe.

“Now, you are learning how to precisely control gravity fields, because you have skipped ahead to the edge of Type two technology. An analogy might be that you are running before you have mastered walking. Stumbling is a real risk, in this analogy.

“It is fortunate that you developed some evolutionary mental capabilities of a Type two species to match the technology you borrowed. Although, without that new mental ability, you would not have been able to reverse engineer the Olt’kitapi gravity projector. The Comtaps embedded in your brains, which are also borrowed technology that you use to improve your minds, would not have been adequate to modify your behavior, to protect your Type one and Type two neighbors from your reckless natures.

“You can thank the genes of the wolfbat for your expanded and better organized biological memory, and that of the rippers for your nervous system and telepathy, which act together to moderate your behavior. You have tread close to the edge, and may yet step across the boundary of unapproved behavior. If you do, this avatar, or that of The Jing|!| will curb your capability to use Type two technology.

“If that happens, the intermediate Type one Thandol may eliminate your species, or block them from future advancement if you are defeated but not eliminated.”

Maggi happily pounced. “Are you saying we will be monitored, but we will not have our new gravitational projectors taken from us?”

“There would be need to take them from you, they would simply no longer function if you continue to use them in an aggressive and highly destructive manner. A gravity gun, as you named it, or small black holes used as missiles are limited scale weapons made possible by early Type two technology, and little more damaging than more conventional non-gravity weapons. However, breaking apart a living planet, or using stars as weapons to wipe out life on an entire planet or in an entire solar system, is large scale, and that use can result in multiple mass extinctions. That will be moderated.

“In extreme cases from the past, before monitoring was established by the early elevated species, the stars of competing Type twos were suddenly eaten by a massive black hole, or a core manipulation of a nearby giant star triggered a supernova, which would wipe out a neighboring competitor. We do not permit that level of misuse of powerful technology.

“The curiosity of my controllers is sufficient to risk watching your continued development. The loss of your Type one opponents by your less destructive technology is not our concern, since that happens in every galaxy frequently, nor would your elimination by them be any of our concern. Should the Olt’kitapi move to eliminate you, or of any neighboring species via large scale use of their Type two gravity control, they would have their technology curtailed. We believe you have nothing to fear from them. They may have, from you.”

That stance obviously annoyed Maggi. “You take a very long term view, and one of disinterest in species extinction even if they’re a higher level, such as the Olt’kitapi were to the Krall.”

Surprisingly, the avatar agreed. “Not if they are destroyed by a Type zero or Type one species. The Olt’kitapi were not going to be protected from their Type zero client race, the Krall, even had we known the revolt would succeed. The Jing|!| was more distressed at the Olt’kitapi for using a Dismantler to destroy the Krall home world. Had that caused the Krall’s extinction, gravitational technology for the Olt’kitapi would likely have been disabled until their monitor believed they had evolved beyond youthful bad behavior. Over all, survival selects those best suited for advancement, even though some seemingly deserving species are lost. Others will appear. We cannot, and will not involve ourselves with choosing favorites among the myriad of Type zero and one species that continuously appear in every galaxy.”

Mirikami matched his wife’s annoyance. “You appear to have allowed the Krall to use Type two technology to wipe out their neighbors. They did that seventeen times, and tried to do that with us.”

“They were a Type zero species, with stolen Type one and limited Type two technology, and had no ability to understand or the means to replicate those weapons. They would inevitably encounter a stronger species. Which, on a galactic time scale happened quickly, because they found another low-level species that could stop them. Humanity.

“They were on the verge of losing their access to the stolen gravity control technology, as the Dismantlers ceased to respond. You earned respect for your standing as a more desirable species for possible advancement, should you survive long term. You deliberately elected not to eliminate the Krall, which was within your power to do with the Type one technology you had. We only know this because of what we obtained from your mind, when you were experienced.”

Mirikami was startled. “That was what that was? My being experienced?” Mirikami had assumed that test was yet to come.

“Yes. If you were not available, your mate would have served the purpose, or one of the two Kobani with you today, to evaluate your species probable philosophical disposition. We learned that you are not, in general, predisposed to destroy an opponent by every means possible.”

It didn’t seem advisable to argue the point, that a different Kobani may have held a different position. He had let go the other’s hand, but overlooked the avatar’s capability, which clearly extended beyond the need for direct physical contact. It knew his thoughts.

“Another Kobani would not have had a different genetic predisposition, which I detected when I sampled your DNA by our contact. A personal bias of one of your people, based on an emotional reaction from some tragic loss, would not override the entire evolutionary imperatives of your species. You are certainly not the most benevolent people we’ve experienced, but neither are the gentle Olt’kitapi.

“We know that many humans, even those without your Koban gene enhancements, would be predisposed to support the role you personally have played in protecting weaker species. It is a slimmer factor in non Kobani humans, but it is present, and we anticipate it will increase if your genetic modifications spread what you term Mind Tap, to more of your species, which is currently underway.”

Maggi returned to their lengthy view of things. “How long have you been The Silha monitor? Are there many?”

“There is only one required at a time. This construct has been reproduced three times, always a result of a Type two species wishing to avoid being monitored or regulated, or by their acting before the experiencing could take place. Avatar replacement has only resulted from widespread and massively destructive events, which exceeded my design’s ability to avoid, or to survive it when it occurred. For a limited region of destruction, which you would describe as a very local scale, much smaller than a star system, such as an explosion. A reverse time reflected tachyon wave is sufficient warning for an avatar to evade the event if it is not of a widespread nature. That is a matter of convenience to my controllers, to not need to replace an avatar.

Mirikami laughed, and remarked, “You look just as alive as I suspect the Silha you are modeled after once appeared. Didn’t imminent destruction frighten you? How long have you existed?”

He placed a sympathetic hand on the small creature’s shoulder, and added, “An Olt’kitapi Dismantler described using a time reversed tachyon wave to avoid a fatal collision with my ship once. How does that work?”

Very life like, it directed its large black eyes his way. Knowing they were complex sensors and not eyes, didn’t alter their gentle appearance to Mirikami.

“An elevated species will not furnish details of higher dimensional realms to younger species that have not learned of these by their own advancement. You have the advantage of knowing that other dimensional realms exist, so your people will now seek the answers.

“To answer your question, and misplaced concern for my physical existence, I am continuously in contact with multiple elevated Silha controllers. If this construct were lost, an existing avatar replacement is immediately activated, receiving the most recent data from the monitoring Silha as a final update to the store of its continuously maintained history. The Silha replacement is sent to a time shortly after, and at a place safely away from where the previous device was lost. Paradox limits prohibit the prevention of such large-scale events, but the experiencing will proceed with a different sample of the involved species.

“A Silha avatar has been in service for nearly two billion of your years, from shortly after the Silha were elevated. Because any Silha can act as a controller, to experience new species, I can represent one, or the entire population on my missions if they chose to participate. With periodic self-refurbishment and infrequent replacement, the exact extent of a specific construct’s existence is subject to reconstruction of complex timelines. How long a single avatar exists is irrelevant when they are each functionally identical, with no gaps in their record.”

“Can you tell us…” it spoke before Maggi finished, sensing her thoughts.

“There are many millions of other avatars, of various types, representing other elevated species. Most are far older than The Silha, and there are later ones that represent even younger elevated species. I will not answer your unfinished question about the path to elevation, or where it leads. The Olt’kitapi think they have hints from their mathematics, and that is helpful, but misleading.

“I will only tell you that if your species struggles and manages to survive, waits, and learns what you need to know, and need to do, you may become a full Type two species. Nonetheless, achieving Type two advanced technology is not adequate in and of itself, and as your discussions noted before I arrived, nearly a trillion galaxies still shine brightly. The only Type three species that ever evolved and advanced to their elevation, developed within the first hundred million years of this Universe. They conferred with one another then, and altered the progression of future advancements. By then, the predicted accelerating universal expansion and the reducing number of galaxies, as small ones merged to form fewer large ones, made the fate of a lonely future for elevated species clear. If only one elevated species per galaxy emerged a single time, few new species could advance naturally, after the first Type three to develop had occupied every star in their galaxy.

It pulled away from Mirikami’s touch. “I will now return to M32, where there is a problem to resolve between competing and antagonistic Type two species. I will leave monitoring devices here, where your progress and that of the Olt’kitapi will be observed.”

It looked up at the two humans, and for the first time, it’s large synthetic eyes blinked.

“You were an interesting experience. We will be watching you. Goodbye.”

The soft pop ruffled their hair, and Maggi and Tet looked at one another and shrugged, as if that hadn’t gone as badly as they had feared.

Mirikami repeated, with an odd smirk on his face, “It really was an interesting experience. Let’s go share some thoughts with Prola and Frithda, and then say our own goodbyes. We need to return home quickly.”

She smiled, noting his cat-ate-the-canary smirk. “I wish we could impress them by just popping away.”

“Like the avatar said. Survive, wait, and learn. Or perhaps we can place learning first, and the rest will follow.”

Chapter 10: A Great Defense

On the journey home, Mirikami shared his “experiencing” with his companions, after he and Maggi described The Silha’s sudden appearance, and what took place in the short but eventful meeting, describing it in general terms.

“The intellect of the Silha species, and the technology they had achieved before, or after they were elevated, is undeniably far ahead of the Olt’kitapi. That small avatar downloaded the library of what was apparently the accumulated history of every human written record and document, possibly using the recently updated abridged copy in Jake, but they could have obtained it directly from the Library of Parliament on Earth. I don’t know if that download was done after it arrived on Egg, or if it already had that.

“However, it did tell us that it did not access the smaller database that Maggi and I have, that all of us Kobani have on our Comtaps, until it joined us. Mine is richer in data that a Spacer would be interested in having, hers in the biological sciences, but both are still huge by our personal standards, and we need over an hour to replicate them in our backups on larger computers.

“Remarkably, it transferred all that data, without our concurrence, in practically an instant. More impressively, it, and the Silha beings that were linked with it, rapidly filtered through that trove to focus on and comprehend relevant details they needed to understand about when, where, and how we Kobani humans advanced to the verge of what they term a Type two species. When it shook hands with me, it analyzed my entire genome in a split second, and deduced what our genetic changes implied about our abilities, and evidently our level of species maturity. They don’t appear to make morality judgements concerning the actions of Type one or lower species. How the Krall and the Thandol behave, is no better or worse than how the Olt’kitapi behaved, at least until a species develops Type Two technology.

“If grabbing our Comtap data, and breaking down and understanding our unknown genetics in seconds doesn’t blow your mind, that little avatar also Jumped itself there, like a small spacecraft with Trap fields and a Jump drive built-in. It claims to have moved instantly from near Andromeda, to a spot midway between the two Olt’kitapi and Maggi and I on Egg, with no appreciable time interval involved. That has staggering implications.

“The avatar admitted the Silha controllers initiated what I think is their advanced equivalent of a Mind Tap, before grasping that my genome told them I had a superconducting nervous system. Things did not proceed exactly as they or I expected. Because of my innocent seeming question, I received an avalanche of their powerful minds entering mine. I’m still sorting through my memory matrix to see if I received and retained any meaningful information. But whatever that might be, it isn’t likely to be as valuable as what my last question produced, when the avatar prevented numerous other Silha minds from swamping my thoughts.”

Maggi nodded, her suspicion confirmed, and Carson wondered, “What did you ask?”

“How a time reversed tachyon wave worked.”

“That’s all?”

Mirikami’s previous smirk returned. “There is an old military adage: the best defense is a good offense.”

Carson had a brief introspective look that told them he’d done a search. “I found a reference in my Comtap. Why is that significant, considering your question?”

“The avatar had shown it was able to sense my thoughts, even when we were not in physical contact, but it had isolated my mind from the swarm of inputs from his Silha controllers, he said it was for my mental wellbeing. I was in physical contact again as I asked the second question, so it must have understood what I was doing, and why.

“The reason I tried that tactic again, was my hoping clearer thoughts would reach me, because I had nothing to lose. Nothing, except for our war with a powerful Type one species. A race that is trying to suppress or destroy what the Silha thinks is our novel and interesting marginal Type two species.

“I knew the monitors were not going to permit us to use gravity projectors for any large scale aggressive actions, such as using Type two technology to manipulate a star’s output to damage entire Thandol planets, or to break their planets apart to force them to stop attacking us.”

Alyson looked at him quizzically. “Something did get through, didn’t it? Even if they, or their avatar, knew you were fishing for a useful answer.”

Carson didn’t see a connection. “Tet, what would that answer have to do with the adage?”

“Turn the adage around, son, turn it around.”

“What? What would that mean? A good offense is the best defense?” He looked even more puzzled.

Maggi gave him a sour look, and shook her head, but refrained from thumping him. “He’s Dillon’s son all right. Both seem so promising, then…” She trailed off.

Mirikami was no help either when he said, “Wrong turnaround kid, but it’ll become clear if we can convert the answer I received from the Silha into a working technology. Excuse me while I try to set up a group link with Max Born, Coldar, and Blue Flower Eater. I need to transfer information to our physics teams, which I hope they can use. I don’t even want to waste the day and a half to get home.”

****

Coldar’s concern was reflected in his question. “If the detection method is sensitive enough to work, and if the AI can interpret the signal, how do we trigger such a signal without risking loss of the ship and the lives aboard? Its complete destruction must be assured, or the time reversed signal we seek will likely not be generated.”

Blue offered his own worry. “The detection will not only need to be definitive, but acted upon quickly or it will be too late to save them. It is too risky.”

Max shrugged. “Tet, without intelligent lives aboard and placed at risk, the wave may not be generated. We have no idea how many lives must be involved to produce a wave detectable by our new sensors, nor exactly what that wave form will resemble. Who will put this idea to the test?”

Mirikami frowned, but it was only directed towards Max Born. “I understand the reluctance and caution of our two brilliant friends here. They aren’t reckless humans, and assume our only means of testing is how we used to risk test pilots. Put someone in a new craft as pilot, and see if they and the ship survive the stresses placed on them. Calculated risks are something humans have always accepted, when the cause is worth the risk of life.

“Although, just for your edification I do know an upper bound on how many lives have to be involved to definitely produce a large enough tachyon signal. The near intersection of the Mark of Koban with Huwayla, in the Pittsburg II system, established that. There were twenty-four of us aboard the Mark when we nearly intersected with the Dismantler, and she sensed the coming destruction.”

“That’s too many to risk on a test.” Max protested.

Mirikami offered him a lopsided grin. “It gets worse. The upper total of lives at risk was much higher than my ship’s complement, Max. There were five hundred fourteen Krall, and a single Krall’tapi on Huwayla. That means there were five hundred thirty-nine of what we recognize as intelligent living beings aboard the two ships combined, which would have died.”

“Ye gods, man!” Now, Max was also repelled. “There isn’t any way we could find that many volunteers for the first test, nor would I allow that.”

Mirikami was fully aware that human behavior didn’t extend to risks of mass suicide for just obtaining a test result. The alien scientists were feeling a sense of horror at what they now thought their friend appeared to have been asking of them.

“Relax, you worry warts. That’s what I know must be the upper limit, because that was how many were involved in the only example of which I have direct knowledge. I am positive that the actual number of intelligences required is far lower.”

Relieved, Coldar, with the only hard carapace of the various Federation species, asked, “What is a wart?”

Blue posed the more useful question. “It is how few intelligent lives required that is the true number we need, isn’t it? My familiarity with your history of humor suggests it may be only one living being.”

Nodding his approval to Blue, Mirikami modified even that suggestion. “I remind you I said intelligent being, and the definition of living may require some interpretation.”

Exasperated, Max, a stuffy scientist not known for his jokes or appreciation of low brow humor, demanded, “Stop playing with our emotions, and say what you mean. What intelligence isn’t alive?”

“The Silha, or rather their avatar was what I meant. It told me that it had been reproduced three times, because previous avatars were destroyed by large scale events that had exceeded its ability to escape. It travels alone, and if it has the means to escape smaller local scaled destruction, such as a bomb, then it can detect the time reversed tachyon wave that signals the event seconds before it happens. It Jumps away, and I don’t know if it qualifies as alive, but it seems highly intelligent, and it can avoid those localized sorts of destruction.

“We want to know how intelligent an AI needs to be, or if it needs to be very smart at all. The monitor avatars of elevated species exceed Olt’kitapi intelligence, but I don’t think Dismantlers do. Besides, Remela, the Dismantler that described time reversed tachyon waves to us said we had the capability to detect them, and that our most advanced AIs have the speed and computational ability to act automatically, if we allow them the freedom.

“We’ll test with our own ships, and step up through smarter AIs to see which of them have what it takes.”

“Couldn’t you have told us that at the outset?” Asked Blue.

“Sure, but where’s the fun in that?”

“Very funny,” Born complained.

“I rest my case.” Tet replied, irritatingly cheerful.

****

Watching the brilliant blast as the patrol boat vanished in a glowing sphere of atomized plasma and particles, Mirikami remarked dryly, “That AI was too dumb, or too slow. The Nova bomb was obviously destructive enough and on target. Next test target!”

Blue was studying the speed of light data that had just arrived with the visible light of the blast. “Not yet, Tet. The patrol boat was a half-light minute away. Only two of the continuous transmissions from the three different tachyon sensors indicated any signal at all, and neither of them was exactly what we were expecting. Each of the detecting sensors reported a small tachon wave, consisting of two polarization types, both arriving together, and they were sensed nearly two seconds before we launched the Nova, which of course arrived instantly after it entered Tachyon Space.

“The dual detection, coming that far in advance, matches the timing Remela said was about the expected warning time, and reduces the possibility of coincidence. We’ve been detecting random weak tachyon signals in Tachyon Space for days of monitoring these three sensors, and all three designs have reported signals, some polarized and some not. This is the first time we had a simultaneous detection by a pair of sensors. We only want those tachyon waves that are focused on the target, and arrive at the proper advance time before we launch. We know we need three of them to be simultaneous, with different polarizations for confirmation.”

Coldar chimed in with an assessment. “It isn’t certain that the simple AI’s programing considered either of them the type of signal it was expected to use, and then to compute and execute a Jump. A half second is all that’s required for that level AI to detect the signals and then activate the boat’s Jump drive, to execute a preprogramed Jump. An unplanned micro Jump, which also avoids other nearby ships, would take longer to compute and execute for such a low-level AI.”

“Hmm. OK.” Mirikami accepted that. “Assuming both signals were part of a time reversed tachyon wave, is that AI capable of calculating a safe micro Jump? Is under two seconds enough time?”

Coldar had a partial answer. “It isn’t easy to say yet. A shuttle AI has more capability than one in a patrol boat, and if a double signal is adequate for prediction, it can compute a safe micro Jump in just under a second. However, we don’t want to micro Jump because of just any coincidental tachyon waves received, which might occur often in a region with frequent micro Jumps triggering tachyon waves in Tachyon Space.”

Mirikami understood what they wanted. More tests. “Fine, you decide which sensors work best, and when you can put three of them on a ship where all agree on a simultaneous signal of the right type, matching what you determine is a time reversed tachyon wave. Then let me know. I’ll ask Jake and other high level AIs to analyze what minimal level AI can handle the micro Jump computation in under a second and a half, and has sensors to keep track of friendly ship locations. We don’t want to micro Jump into intersects with our own people, or the enemy.”

He didn’t need to stay and watch any more patrol boats explode. They weren’t free, but the PU was now selling them to the Federation at cost, and this project was vital to the fight against the Empire.

If the Thandol can’t hit us with Decoherence bombs, that’s step one, he thought. And his hints from the Silha controller had furnished the clues to what a time reflected tachyon wave would look like. This was a purely defensive measure, using Type two technology, and this was certainly allowed.

He knew the next step would involve more difficult and innovative physics. Max was the best mind they had, and he was at work with his own team of human technicians and fellow scientists, who would explore more radical avenues than their cautious allies would attempt.

Mirikami knew that what he intended to do, which was employ Type two gravity technology for attacks, but not do it in a fashion that violated the rules against mass destruction, and wouldn’t directly lead to extinctions.

****

Max sounded optimistic. “Tet, we went back over what Remela told us about the process of generating a stasis field. At the time she told us this, she was unaware we had one of Huwayla’s huge projectors to study. She may have been more forthcoming than would be the case if she knew we would soon be able to form black holes at a distance.”

“Can you form a larger one around an inner one, as she described?”

“Yes, but we haven’t managed to halt, or even greatly slow the time of a clock that’s inside the inner horizon. We checked sample clocks carefully after we let both horizons evaporate, and the enclosed clocks never lost more than a few minutes in a full hour of testing.

“We can move the nested pair of black holes together in Normal Space in perfect unison, but the time freeze is what we need to achieve. Neither horizon has been rotated into Tachyon Space yet, since we aren’t ready Jump them anywhere, but that’s something we’ve done often and is familiar. Although, your tactic requires that we promptly Jump the region contained in the stasis field to the return coordinates, rather than move them in Normal Space. This, we can and will do, if we can ever halt the damn flow of time inside that inner event horizon. There isn’t going to be anything to move if we can’t freeze time.”

“How are you figuring out where to Jump them?”

“We don’t, at this stage of the process. That’s part of Blue and Coldar’s work. If three of their sensors detect polarized time reversed tachyon waves, and the ship successfully Jumps out of the way, they will already have triangulated the origin of the incoming object. That point of origin is contained in the AI’s data for the event, and becomes the return Jump destination coordinate.

“Will you be able to project the pair of horizons around the volume the ship just vacated in its micro Jump?”

“Certainly.” Max seemed to be taking pains to be patient with Mirikami’s questions, a brilliant Spacer and strategist, but a layman in physics.

“We established we could do that at the very start, by simply doing a micro Jump on command, and with the known coordinates of where we just departed, feed that to the two gravity projectors and create the two event horizons where we just were. That process works with the AI far faster than you or I can think. We’ll have the target area completely enveloped before the stasis field is needed. The challenge is creating stasis.

“There’s a vast range of mass equivalents we can try for the black holes, and we must be able to tightly regulate the gap between the two horizons. Our calculations tell us we can increase the time dilation effect between the horizons the closer they approach one another. That should slow the passage of time, measured by the clock ticks within the inner horizon, compared to an external clock.

“We definitely see the start of the effect we want, but we can’t slow the clock very much, let alone halt the flow of time. When we narrow the gap between the nested event horizons, we always encounter a problem where the two horizons overstrain the space-time between them, and they abruptly merge. Then a single event horizon encloses the combined mass energy of both.”

“And you said the clock didn’t lose significant time after that?”

“In the sudden merge scenario? We don’t know. The clock never survives. All we find when the merged hole is permitted to evaporate are fundamental particles. It’s clearly quite stressful.” He added in an understatement.

Mirikami voiced his support. “I’m confident you and your team will find a way with enough experimentation. We know the Olt’kitapi did it, and they are far more cautious than we would be. They even ordered their Differentiators to use their projectors to do it on themselves.”

Born nodded. “We’ve considered trying that, and we think we could risk enclosing a Scout in a double horizon. Those AI’s, with two projectors to control, are competent to do that, but we’d not be able to communicate with one by radio while it was within either of the double horizons. Not unless it had a Prada tachyon communicator and a Trap field extended into Tachyon Space, like border monitor boats use.

“When it’s time to end the experiment, the AI would simply cut power to the projectors and emerge unscathed, just like in the tests we’ve done on clocks, but with no significant time lost. And, of course, the Scout will emerge unscathed only if the two horizons didn’t get too close. We don’t want to waste Scouts for these tests.”

“Have you tried rotating both horizons, to see what would happen?”

Max looked at him oddly. “No, but that’s worth a try. I didn’t know you knew we could do that. You always surprise me with your insights, in areas where you claim to have little knowledge.”

“That isn’t my insight. It was originally Golda Mauss’ tactic when they ghosted their fleet at times, during their second attack on K1. I don’t know if even she came up with the idea. I adapted the tactic for our use.”

Max looked taken aback. “Oh! You meant where you rotate ships into Tachyon Space but don’t Jump away. You sort of hover your ships, and do a White Out in the same place, after the enemy thinks you departed.”

“Yes, the ships rotate into Tachyon Space. What did you think I meant?”

“I thought you meant a bright idea we haven’t tried yet.” He sounded intrigued. “Intended or not, you gave me something new to think about and to try. I need to get back to my team. I’ll keep you apprised if we make any progress.” He hurried out of the conference room for his lab.

Mirikami thought to himself as he left the room, I wish I was as smart as I keep getting credit for.

****

“President MacDougal, we need to talk, and after that we probably should contact President Strickland.”

“Oh crap, Tet. You know I tense up every time you call and address me so formally. It’s never about some pleasant subject, like hunting or fishing on Koban, a poker night on Haven, or even a mildly annoying budget item. What now? Does it relate to the spate of research resulting from your meeting with those god-like Silha?”

“Yes, Sir, it does. Max Born’s team discovered that if he uses gravity projector polarization when forming the two event horizons, he can induce quantum style spins in each, opposite spin values for each black hole, which allows the two nested black hole horizons to get extremely close without suddenly merging. Doing that, they can create the time stopping stasis fields inside the inner event horizon. He keeps thanking me for giving him the idea. All I did was ask the wrong question at the right time, which led him to the solution.”

MacDougal understood none of this, so asked, “Max can make your catch and release tactic work?”

“It does, Sir. We have a two-step method to do what I discussed with you when we returned from Egg, and we can apply gravity technology in a Silha and Jing-pop approved manner. Or so I believe.”

“Or so you believe? Did you ask them?”

“How would I do that, Sir? It isn’t as if they left us their business card with a contact number. They remain aloof and uninvolved until we screw up, from their elevated viewpoint.”

“You are not easing my concerns when you keep Siring me. When you start out formal, and stay that way, things are about to turn serious and deadly. Do we need to use the new tech to fight off the Thandol? Are they about to use their own fleets to attack us and the PU?”

“It’s the other way around, Sir.”

“Wait! What? You want us to attack them?”

“Well…, it’s better than waiting until they’re headed for some indeterminate world, which has no planetary defenses, and we or the PU navy needs to figure out where they’re going, and rush to defend the target on the fly.”

“You told us that the Empire would pause to lick its wounds for a time. That we should avoid stirring them into action before they’re ready, and before we improve our own fleets. We’re in early construction phase.”

“I said improve, not just increase. I’ve learned from Max Born this morning that his team, combined with Coldar and Blue’s work, have managed to implement the technology we needed, using the clues I carried back from meeting The Silha.”

“Is that enough improvement? It doesn’t break the limits you described, which the most advanced species apply to us?”

“Not if we aren’t using Type two technology for planetary scale destruction. Not even species extinction, although those higher up Types don’t appear to object to the loss of Type zero and Type one species. Not if it’s done at the same scale of destruction that our opponents use, and I’m confident we’ll be doing that more precisely than even the Silha would expect. Befitting our status as a surprising, novel, and marginal Type two species.” He chuckled.

“You briefed me at the outset on what you had our physics teams doing, so apparently, the system is now ready for wider deployment. How are you going to use our few dozen Mark IIs and several hundred Scouts, the only ones with gravity projectors that can use the technology. You want to go against a Thandol fleet? Stealth only goes just so far, and they have thousands of Smashers with Decoherence bomb launchers, and mass detectors that can locate the Mark IIs, if not the Scouts.”

“Sir, it’s true that the stasis part of the system requires paired gravity generators, but that’s only part of the system. Any ship with the triple tachyon sensors that pick up the three-way polarized reflected waves, and has an AI that can act quickly enough, can micro Jump to safety. Our clanships all have AI’s now, and can be given the same tachyon wave detectors. They won’t be able to leave a stasis field behind, but they won’t be sitting ducks either.

“They have conventional weapons as good as most Smashers have, and they can launch Nova bombs that are more destructive than the Empire’s Decoherence bombs, although not as many or as fast as the specially equipped Smashers can launch.”

“What will you ask the PU to do? They don’t have any gravity projectors. Can we give them the same tachyon wave detectors for their cruisers?”

“We’ll give them sample sets of ours, and the technical specifications to make their own, and show them how to use them. They’ll need to manufacture and deploy their own detectors, because the Prada will barely be able to produce enough for our ships in the time I’m allotting. I hope to convince the PU to go with us with at least one task force, if not both.”

“What’s the rush? If the Thandol haven’t gathered their own fleets for a new attack.”

“Sir, the Empire hasn’t sat on their asses since the strikes on their bases. Particularly when the PU left some wrecked Scouts behind at Rogue 1. Last week, the Hothor and other household spies reported hearing discussions about upgrades to sensor systems for their fleet.

“Using samples of our Scout hull coatings, which they can’t reproduce yet for their own ships, they did learn how to detect our ship outlines, just as our sensors can do. They also discovered that long wave radio waves are another weakness of our stealth, which can detect formations of ships, if unable to track individual units for missile targeting.

“Remember what thirty Smashers did to the PU Scouts that arrived in a formation at Rogue 1? Even a single Smasher with three launchers can send over a hundred of those small Decoherence bombs through Tachyon Space into a selected area in a minute. The warheads have proximity detectors to activate and vaporize anything within a two hundred forty-two-foot diameter.

“I estimate we can be ready to attack in a month, or six weeks at the most. In three months, the Thandol might be ready to hit us, and we wouldn’t know where they were headed. I want to hit Wendal first.”

“With a three-month buffer, why not give us and the PU two full months to prepare?”

Mirikami sounded a bit exasperated. “That’s an estimate, and I hope you remember how accurate the estimate for the empire attack was on Tanner’s World. Six months was cut to three months.”

“Point made. Will this only be a fleet battle?”

“No, Sir, not if the fleet battle goes really well. I think it’s time the flatfooted pachyderms learn what it’s like to be hit by tough assed, fast moving ground forces. Mark IIs and Scouts can land people via directs Jumps to the surface. We certainly won’t try to hold the planet, but Wendal has a bull’s eye painted on it, centered on the Emperor’s ass. Wendal and the Imperial Palace will be our ground target, and afterwards their three Security forces will take notice of the Thandol vulnerability.”

“I hate to sound so fearful and hesitant, but that reflects how much I know we’re risking. I assume you have a plan of attack for our side. I really don’t think the PU will give you command over Foxworthy or loan you a navy task force if they participate.”

“I do have a plan, and I won’t ask for overall command. I’ll lead a first strike aboard the Mark. Our other Mark IIs and scouts would go in with me ahead of our clanships and the PU, and we’ll mainly be armed with our tachyon wave sensors and stasis fields. I intend to draw angry Decoherence fire from long-range by using a few unstoppable Nova bombs to get their attention. When they shoot back, that should allow us to identify which Thandol ships carry their own unstoppable weapons.

“I told Carson to turn around an ancient adage once, where it’s claimed that the best defense is a good offense. Thanks to Type two technology we’re now going to show the Thandol how a great defense can be a good offense.”

****

Bledso was envious. “Janet, I’d trade places with you in an instant, to lead that Task Force against the Empire’s capitol.”

Foxworthy, not having a single political bone in her body would never for a second consider making such a swap, nevertheless, spared her former mentor’s feelings. “I would relish having rendered the advice that convinced the President to approve our participation. Her decision might alter the course of the war in our favor.”

The Vice President looked shrewdly at her younger friend. “That’s total bullshit!” She grinned. “I damn well wouldn’t swap jobs in your place, and I once was the admiral in your place.”

Foxworthy laughed, knowing she’d been caught in a white lie. “Fine. I want to give the Thandol a good drubbing. Being half bulletproof increases the enjoyment.”

“Don’t let that fallacy infect the Task Force, dear. Conventional weapons are perfectly capable of killing you, because they aren’t delivered through Tachyon Space. Mirikami warned us that the Thandol have learned to penetrate our stealth. His advance force only hopes to identify, and reduce many of their Decoherence equipped Smashers. Considering they represent about a third of their Smashers, the other two thirds can hit your asses with weapons that don’t forewarn you.”

“Adriana, we’re Kobani now, and our cruisers have their acceleration limiters deactivated. Our heavy cruisers are nearly as maneuverable as a clanship, if not as quite as sturdy. The light cruisers are more maneuverable than a clanship, but far less durable and with less firepower. We can micro Jump the crap out of those pokey assed Smashers.”

“The four-sided Smashers don’t have a blind spot at their rear, like our ships and a clanship, because they don’t have a rear. They can shoot and launch missiles from any side. Please be careful. At this stage of my career I’m no longer in a position where I can train another officer to be as good as you are.”

Bledso had signed the line on two limited contact marriages in her youth, and none had involved a child addendum. The navy became her family, and a couple of promising junior officers, whom she encouraged and mentored, became like her foster children. Janet Foxworthy was one of them, and she was aware of that.

Patting Bledso’s hand resting on the arm of her chair, she tried to reassure her friend. “I’m the Task Force commander, and the flagship won’t be engaging in dog fights.”

“Having been there before, you know that battle plans are the first casualty after you meet the enemy. If Mirikami learns that the hard way, the rest of the Federation fleet is under the command of Golda Mauss. Mirikami has proven himself to be a masterful strategist, but Mauss is a tested battlespace commander. Listen to her advice.”

“I will. We Jump for Wendal in two hours.”

****

“Admiral Mauss, why are all three forces driving directly towards Wendal? Coming from different directions, the Thandol can’t possibly mistake where we’re going.”

Mirikami might be reputed to be some great strategist, but this looked like a reckless tactic to Foxworthy.

“Janet, I suppose I’m still equivalent to an admiral, but like Captain Mirikami and most of the Kobani in the Federation, titles are unimportant, and with our memory matrix and Comtaps, everyone knows who anyone is, and what responsibility they have been assigned for a given mission.

“Nevertheless, keeping the last official title I had in Human Space, as have Captain Mirikami, Colonel Greeves, and Sarge Reynolds, works well enough for me. I know a navy gal like you wants the hierarchy to be clearly defined.

“In any case, what made you think this strike would try to disguise itself? Mirikami did that previously when approaching Thandol targets, including Wendal, and he snuck in there once using Scouts. He didn’t want to attract massive confrontation before. This time, his four hundred thirty-nine ship advance force is trying to draw, and concentrate their fire. It’s why the Scouts are clustered, to guarantee a strong Tachyon Space trace for their monitors. Our two larger traces, arriving thirty minutes later, are doing the same thing.

“Tet wants as many Decoherence equipped Smashers around Wendal as possible. That’s so his force can go after them before the main forces arrive. The clearer the enemy sees us approaching, the more of the Thandol Fleet will be sent to Wendal. This is intended to frighten Emperor Farlol, while he’s still recovering from his parasites, and not very mobile.”

Foxworthy remarked on the strange turn of events in this space assault. “As Mirikami promised, we can detect and Jump away from our own Nova bombs in tests, so we can avoid Decoherence bombs delivered in the same way. It’s weird to think that in one sense, each time we Jump to avoid destruction, it’s canceling something that happened in a different timeline. Time reversed waves of low energy tachyons, reflecting from some time reversed Universe that’s also adjacent to Tachyon Space, allows us to avoid the event so long as it operates on a small scale.

“Except, we only risked empty ships in testing. Now, our butts will be inside the ships that have to stop incoming Decoherence bombs.”

“No. They’re still unstoppable.” Bledso reminded her. “You just aren’t going to be there when they arrive.”

“Right. That’s the theory. I feel more comfortable knocking out missiles I can see coming, and rotating or micro Jumping to escape energy beams.”

“That will be your combat strength again, after Decoherence bombs are eliminated. Bob and weave, hitting them before they can hit you, and moving to hit another target, always moving. Elephants are not nimble, even half sized versions, and their preferred method of fighting is herding together, and trampling their opponents into dust with their massive ships and firepower. You won’t play by their game rules. You’ll have losses from conventional weapons, but the one you were most vulnerable to should become the weakness of a third of their ships.”

Foxworthy still sounded doubtful. “Assuming the technology works in a live combat situation.”

“There is that aspect. But the ability to dodge being turned into atomic particles is good enough, in my mind, to let us attack the Thandol directly, to damage their reputation of having an overwhelming force, supported by their maintaining four large fleets. One each for cowing their security forces into obedience, and one to parade around to bash upstart subservient species, or newly annexed species after a security force has beaten them down.”

“I wish Mirikami good fortune with his advanced attack force, but I’d not want to confront an enemy that had ten or more times my own strength.”

****

In answer to a query from Mirikami, Sarge repeated his AI’s estimate. “Yes, Sir. Probably twenty times our number. Between eight to ten thousand ships must be rushing to guard the Emperor on his throne. Or rather his imperial golden potty. He’s probably too sick to get off the pot, let alone run for his life.”

Sarge, on his Sneaky Bastard, carried a monitor ship’s tachyon trace system, borrowed from a patrol boat. He was assigned to watch the volume of space around their modest fleet, for large movements of other ships engaged in T-cubed travel within Empire space, which could be Thandol warships.

First: Identifying those that had to be Thandol ships because they were in level three travel, which was denied to subservient species.

Second: Must be warships because they were in formations that were on converging vectors towards Wendal.

Reynolds’ equipment couldn’t see every trace headed for the throne world, since only those within 200 LY of their current position could be detected. His AI, named Grumpy, assumed a spherical distribution around Wendal, and computed how many vessels might be enroute to Wendal ahead of, or would arrive just after their own arrival.

Mirikami was somewhat awed by that estimate. “Talk about drawing bees to honey.”

Less inclined to use flowery phrases, Sarge countered with, “More like flies to royal shit.”

Thad was aboard the Ripper, and shared the awe. “Tet, that estimate implies at least three thousand Decoherence equipped Smashers will be waiting for us, assuming the typical one out of three ships of their fleet applies here. At three launchers per ship, roughly nine thousand of them will be aimed at four hundred thirty-nine targets, and they each can launch almost a hundred of those small bombs per minute. Can we really avoid that many incoming warheads? If we’re micro Jumping all the damn time, can we send them that many care packages?”

“Thad, a ship won’t wait to counter every single warhead sent its way before it micro Jumps. The first one that would hit one of us is enough. One out of each salvo from a single Smasher will add up quickly. Although, with so many, I think I should increase the distance that we micro Jump each time, to avoid letting them concentrate too many bombs in a small volume, and we’ll stand-off farther than I originally estimated. This recall of their fleet elements is far greater than I expected.

“If it starts to get congested around us, we can simply Jump our entire formation to a different volume near Wendal. Not a bad idea to do that anyway. I’ll instruct our AI’s to coordinate Jumps, and then move to another random location around the planet after five minutes. We’ll get a wider selection of new Smasher targets that way, before they figure out the pattern of our responses to their bomb launches.”

Noreen, on the Avenger with Dillon, renewed a sticking point that had worried her. “Tet, we’ll all fight as individuals, but stay within a group, clumped to form a mass density they can aim towards?”

This was different than the usual Kobani tactic, where they Jumped in among enemy units, shooting and launching missiles then quickly Jumping away. It bothered her to tempt enemy target practice.

“Noreen, there will be plenty of that type of combat after we’ve reduced their ability to strike at us from out of Tachyon Space, and our main forces have arrived. Black holes will become the main weapons for our ships then. Staying farther away from them at first makes the instant delivery Decoherence bombs their obvious weapon of choice. They aren’t likely to leave the planet less defended to Jump multiple squadrons out to close with us, to be picked apart as happened at their bases, and to the Ragnar and Finth.

“It’s equally obvious that anti-ship missiles fired from that range would be destroyed by our energy beams long before they came near. I’ve decided to increase our stand-off distance to one thousand five hundred miles. Energy beams fired from fifteen hundred miles away will start to spread, and our maneuvering and ship rotation makes it nearly impossible to keep us targeted long enough to do damage. They don’t need perfect targeting to launch thousands of their disintegrator bombs towards us. They’ll believe they can randomly find a lot of us that way, and they’ll be right in some cases. Even when we micro Jump within our designated volume, we may encounter some of the warheads by moving into them if it becomes too saturated. That’s why we’ll change locations.”

In a comment that sounded less than fully confident, Sarge concluded, “In five minutes we’ll find out if the new detectors get us out of harm’s way, and if stasis freezes time fast enough.”

****

High Commander Delthab Trindal spoke only remotely with the Emperor, who was finally on the mend, although not yet free of all parasite eggs. Emperor Farlol the 84th wanted to know if the capitol world, his palace, and himself would be well defended. He sounded as if he wondered if the rumors of a coup were at play here.

“Your Imperial Majesty, we have the entire Sector two fleet in place around Wendal, and major parts of Home Fleet has arrived from our colonies. The nearest squadrons of Sector one and Sector two fleets are arriving faster than every twentieth of a cycle. We already have double the enemy strength that is coming here before their second two larger elements arrive. Additional squadrons of ours will continue to arrive after that time.”

“What of their lead strike force? It will be here sooner, and that will contain their most stealthy craft, with their new gravity weapons.”

“Sire, we outnumber that force nearly twenty to one. And as I promised, all our Sector two fleet has the new sensor systems to penetrate Federation stealth, and Home fleet has hundreds of Smashers with the same new sensors. These are mounted on our Decoherence launcher ships, and their AIs will share targeting data with other ships, even as they send Decoherence bombs at the enemy.”

“How many ships will we have around Wendal when the remainder of the enemy fleet arrives?”

“Sire, as I said, we will heavily outnumber them. We think they have sent over six thousand ships, we have over nine thousand here now, and will soon have more than twelve thousand Smashers, greater than two thousand Guardians, and all four Crushers, just as you ordered. I have positioned the remaining parts of our Sector one and three fleets, gathered near the boundaries of Sector two. If you order them to come, they could arrive in half a cycle, but that would leave none of our ships in those two sectors to prevent the Ragnar and Thack Delos from taking advantage. It would increase our numbers here to nearly twenty thousand, despite our losses in previous attacks.”

The Emperor, perhaps because he was feeling more vulnerable, between illness and rumors of a coup, appeared willing to strip every ship from the two adjacent sectors to defend only Wendal, weakening the remainder of the empire.

True, Wendal was the current capitol planet, but it wasn’t even the first capitol world this Emperor had used. He’d taken the throne when Farlol the 83rd, his cousin, had made Ginjal his own capitol, and the New Emperor had ruled from there for five orbits, before palace construction on Wendal was complete for his new capitol. He apparently didn’t feel healthy enough to evacuate now, but Wendal was evidently going to be a repeated target of the extremely aggressive Federation simply because the emperor lived here.

The Emperor’s next question revealed another worry, but it mirrored Trindal’s own concern.

“Why are they not all attacking at one time, with their full force? What is the purpose behind the smaller force arriving early. And they made no pretense as to where they would attack. They conducted no travel outside the galactic disk, with a sudden dive at the true target, which would keep us guessing and spreading out our fleets.”

“Sire, they don’t know we have penetrated their stealth, nor that we have detected a weakness in the gravity weapons they used on us at the Fleet Staging area in Sector one. We have a defense to try when they send black holes or the high velocity projectiles at us. An intervening powerful gravity field will terminate black holes, disrupt their projectile targeting, and reduce their effectiveness, while our energy beams will pass through those areas with little effect.”

“Do you think this will turn the advantage in our favor for once. These humans have become annoying to me.”

“I think there will be surprises revealed today, Sire.”

****

In the seconds before they emerged, Sarge couldn’t resist. “Let’s hope we can surprise the arrogant, flatfooted, bagpipe sounding bastards.”

In one sense they did, because there was a sudden blossoming of Decoherence warheads that suddenly rotated into Normal Space at a thousand miles from Wendal, towards the direction from which the Federation formation came, but nowhere near where they had emerged. That range was sometimes the distance at which the Kobani had initiated previous strikes, as well as a closer distance of five hundred miles. At the nearer range today, they would have emerged and been mixed in with the large, and still growing Thandol fleet that surrounded the planet.

Mirikami had counted on the previously displayed two-dimensional thinking of Thandol formations, and they not only expected the Federation ships to emerge at roughly a thousand miles, but to do it on the side of the planet from which they had approached. There were a couple of thousand more ships on that side of Wendal than was posted on the opposite side, where the Mark IIs and Scouts made their exits from Tachyon Space. A planetary mass didn’t exist in that alternate Universe, and yet the Thandol often planned as if it mattered.

The Kobani craft had performed a pre-Jump real space velocity match with Wendal in its orbit, and even though reaction from the Thandol would be swift, it had been decided it would be prudent to attract Thandol attention and Decoherence fire right away. The Mark IIs carried Nova bombs, which only required coordinates to be input to them from their AIs, to select the best Thandol targets. Humans could override targets chosen randomly by the AIs.

Ethan, his youthful enthusiasm apparent, was at one of two designated weapons consoles on the Wanderer, with Carson at the other, and Alyson at the Captain’s station today.

“Holy crap! They called in their last four Crushers. I get one.”

Carson, who had missed getting to attack a Crusher during the Meglor docks raid, chose one, and didn’t ask if it was the same one. “Mine is away.”

“Mine too.” A statement from Ethan that was entirely redundant before it left his lips.

Nova bombs, delivered via micro Jumps, arrived instantly at solar system distances, and because at a mere fifteen hundred miles, the time of travel for light from the multiple detonations at all four crushers forced the vision screens on every ship to dim the glares that briefly rivaled that of four stellar novae.

There were twenty-one smaller blasts that eradicated Smashers, but it was the four Crushers that apparently drew a total of eighteen of the destructive weapons, because of humans overriding the AIs. There wouldn’t be any large pieces to fall on the planet from these expanding, hypervelocity spheres of shattered and small debris. They each had possessed three huge fusion generators, which as the densest matter to target with those bombs at their centers, were blasted open to add to the intense actinic plasma shooting out in jets, passing the slower clouds of fragments. Organic traces would be detectable only if spectral analysis were employed.

Uncounted dozens of neighboring Smashers were disabled from the high velocity blast debris, and hundreds of the thinly armored Guardians died with them. Unless they were prepared to Jump, hundreds more of the destroyer class craft would fall to the expanding fields of plasma and shrapnel. That same debris caused considerable damage to whichever face, or faces, of the better armored nearby Smashers were exposed to the blasts. Many eluded damage via micro Jumps, which had likely been previously programed in anticipation of the slashing attacks the Kobani usually employed.

The spectacle stunned even Mirikami, who initially focused on the four major blast glares. “Damn. Did anyone shoot at anything besides Crushers?” Of course, as the brightest glows dimmed, he saw they had hit many other targets.

Thad asked, “Think we got their attention?”

The answer came from Smashers positioned around the limbs of the planet, by AI’s that were not distracted by the destruction inflicted on friendly vessels. The mass detectors, which were speed of light systems, quickly identified mass centers where the larger Mark IIs were, and that was reinforced by their improved sensors that could detect their oval outlines. These weren’t clanships, that was obvious, and their internal voids were unknown, but launching multiple Decoherence bombs, spheres only a half foot across, was likely to find some point with only atmosphere in which to emerge.

The moment the warheads rotated into Normal Space, if they were not destroyed by intersecting with solid matter, they would trigger, and all matter within the radius of the fifth force they projected would instantly breakdown into their basic atomic constituents as all molecular bonds released.

Unfortunately, every warhead that found a Federation target worked exactly as designed. Unfortunately for the Thandol, that is.

Sarge was in a mid Comtap comment when his ship suddenly micro Jumped, and in the next thirty-two seconds, all thirty-eight other Mark IIs did too, and a hundred sixteen of the much harder to hit four hundred Scouts Jumped.

“Oops.” Sarge stated, as the universal expression of surprise that everyone that micro Jumped felt at the lack of forewarning. The Sneaky Bastard, one of the first ships the Thandol weapons found, emerged a hundred miles away from his former position, in the center of the formation. He was now near the outskirts.

“Did it work?” He asked.

Mirikami, his Mark emerging a few seconds behind the Bastard, was somewhere else away from the center. He pointed out the obvious. “You said Oops. Would your vaporized brain have Comtapped us if it hadn’t?”

Thad, who’s Ripper had also been an early Jumper, had a ready answer. “Impossible to say, Tet. He talks to us with an empty head all the time.”

Sarge was as polite as usual to his pal. “No, you dip shit clod. Did we take out the Smashers that hit us?”

As they considered his question, another forty-seven Scouts Jumped, some from the edges to the center of the formation, which was spread over a two-hundred-mile radius.

Mirikami was explaining what Reynolds should have realized, when the Mark was targeted again, and micro Jumped. He resumed after the second Jump. “Like I was saying, there are three launchers in a Smasher, and we don’t know where they are mounted, or how redundant the internal Smasher systems are. Those are large ships, and they may require three hits to knock out the launchers. One hit per launcher. We don’t know if three hits within them will disable the entire Smasher. We’ll know that answer soon.”

His sensors revealed a hundred or more wink-out and wink-on of Mark IIs and Scouts, as they dodged the increasing number of arriving Decoherence warheads. That was because Smashers with launchers located close to the blasts, had suffered confusion and panic and were now belatedly firing at the enemy to take their vengeance. Smashers with the same equipment were also micro Jumping from the far side of the planet, to join in the punishing barrage.

That was a welcome development, both to the Thandol, thirsty for revenge, and for the Kobani, who were counting on that reaction. Only one thirst would be satisfied.

****

Trindal was furious, but not only at the enemy, who again did the unexpected. He had tried and failed to convince the Emperor to not recall the other three Crushers, to join the one Farlol insisted stay at Wendal, orbiting repeatedly over the palace complex for his protection or evacuation. There was no place for the showy behemoths in a planetary defense against an enemy fleet. Their best use was in pounding and impressing a planet that had already been deprived of an effective military capability.

Now they were gone, and had taken ships with them that he’d used to screen them from conventional attack. Multiple Federation weapons, already proven to be as indefensible as a Decoherence bomb, had emerged within the mass of their cores, blasting them apart in a wasteful demonstration of ruthless and brutal overkill. Ironically, that was something the Thandol normally appreciated.

Now he would pounce on the enemy’s mistake, because they had remained close together, out where they were clear of conventional weapons, and surely intended to launch more of their destructive intersect weapons. They clearly believed their stealth protected them. When they fired their gravity projectiles at his Smashers, and sent black holes at them, they would learn that those would often fail to strike a target, or in the case of a black hole, wouldn’t even reach their targets, hidden behind gravitational shields. He had initiated the frequent micro Jumps of his ships, employing turns and velocity changes to complicate enemy use of the intersect bombs, making their use more difficult.

He noted the Federation ships had finally initiated their micro Jump tactic, hoping to avoid the tens of thousands of incoming Decoherence warheads, which were accurately targeted on craft that were not as concealed as they believed. These were inexpensive, small warheads to produce, rapidly launched through Tachyon Space to emerge in their thousands among enemy ship formations. For the smaller ships, a single hit should remove them from action. The unfamiliar larger ships were less certain, but no vessel could survive many hits that vaporized large spherical portions of their interior, or of their hulls for near misses.

It was proving to be a complex task to determine how many of the larger ships had been damaged, because they had enough internal volume, and unknown systems redundancy, to know how much their operational efficiency had been degraded. The initial signs were encouraging, because not a single additional Smasher erupted in the flash of an intercept from a Federation warhead. However, he had received confusing damage reports of Smasher captains that described apparent launcher failures, and of communications problems contacting the crews at those stations.

The launchers were of high reliability, and virtually automated in operation, provided the racks of replacement Decoherence warheads were brought from the armory before the ready munitions stored near the launcher were depleted. A Smasher typically carried a hundred thousand warheads per launcher, but in expectation of attacking Federation worlds, or of defending their own planets, the armory for each launcher was fully stocked, holding a half million of the small spheres each. The Emperor had authorized lavish use of the warheads, but except for preventing additional explosive destruction of Smashers, the enemy numbers did not appear to have appreciably diminished.

Just as Trindal was about to order additional Smashers to shift to the side of the planet where the enemy was, to reduce enemy numbers before their reinforcements arrived, the entire Federation formation executed a group Jump. He thought it was a retreat, but they had only relocated, almost to the opposite side of Wendal, still maintaining that same stand-off separation. Well, they weren’t the only force that used micro Jumps. He ordered all Smashers with Decoherence launchers to relocate to face them.

That was when the problems previously reported revealed itself to be far more than a few failed launchers. Nearly eleven hundred Smashers, per his AI, failed to relocate, and of the few captains that reported why, it was because the central launcher of their ships, the one mounted closest to the Bridge was the only one still operational. Those located next to the Jump Drives or Trap field generators were gone. Gone, as if a warhead had activated prior to the launcher electrically activating them, as they were sent on their journey. Many ships had lost two launchers, and the vital equipment placed deep in the Smasher where they were colocated, as protection from enemy missiles and energy beams. Emergency transmissions from other Smashers reported that the Bridge and Bridge crews were gone.

The stricken ships couldn’t move, because they either had only half a Jump engine, had lost all their tachyons for powering the Normal Space drives, or the commander and Bridge crew had been vaporized. Trindal suspected a defect had rendered some warheads defective, by activating prematurely. But so many defects seemed beyond comprehension, after so many billions of them had been launched over many campaigns. There had been duds, but no premature activations.

As if to demonstrate that the change in location had provided the respite the enemy needed from the barrage of Decoherence bombs, another thirty-four Smashers suddenly erupted in fatal blossoms of debris, driven by intersects of Novae bombs, spewing fragments from their centers and plasma from ruptured fusion generators.

Regardless of the possible risk from defective warheads, he ordered every available launcher to fire on the enemy, and ordered any responding Smasher to Jump to where they could target the enemy formation. The disturbing AI tally of enemy ships provided him with very bad news. When they all arrived together on the other side of Wendal, that was adequate to prove that too many of their vessels remained operational, or at least still mobile. There were five of the larger ships that had not completed the shift, and fourteen of the harder to see smaller ships were missing. That meant four hundred twenty of the enemy were still in the fight, with barely more than a 4% reduction in strength. He had lost nearly fourteen percent of his own ships.

The enemy immediately began their random micro Jumps again as the barrage on them increased, changing position repeatedly, each ship doing so once or twice, with the larger ships doing so three or four times as often. Trindal, desperate to understand why so few of the enemy were confirmed hits or kills, he carefully composed simple bugle and trumpet phrases, when he queried his flagship AI for information.

A correlation he wasn’t even aware the AI maintained was offered, and which puzzled him. He wasn’t at all surprised the larger more easily detected enemy craft were targeted more frequently by the Smashers, but learning that their micro Jumps consistently happened precisely before a warhead was launched towards their location was troubling.

He asked the AI for details. “Is there any signal generated from the Smashers that could let them know the instant of the launch, so they know to Jump away in time?”

AI’s are literal, and rational, and it bugled in reply. “Sire, our sensors have never detected such signals, but an electromagnetic signal is possible in principle.”

Trindal was on the verge of ordering a study as the battle raged when the rational part of the AI’s reply was offered, and he stayed the order. “Sire, if there is such a signal, it would not matter. It is against the rules of physics per my database, for a velocity of light signal from a launcher to arrive at the target before the vastly faster arrival of the warhead, which is delivered via Tachyon Space. The generation of their Jump Holes are being initiated a very short time before the warheads are launched. It must be a coincidental pattern.”

It was frustrating. “Are there other unexplained correlations connected with the enemy ship Jumps? A pattern of our firing that tells them when they are about to be targeted?”

“Sire, there is another pattern, although it is much like the speed of light travel time limitation, which cannot be correlated with the Jumps of the targets and the warhead launch.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sire, I refer to the loss of continuous data feeds from some of the Smashers that unexpectedly ceased operation. This ship is the designated flagship, and I am equipped for continuous data exchange with every ship in the fleet. Those ships where the Bridge has apparently been disintegrated, instantly cease that data exchange when it happens. The time at which the transmission ceased, can be calculated based on the time of travel of the light speed signal to us. All those transmissions end after an identical small delay time, immediately after the warhead is launched. This is another faster than light effect, but delayed by that very small fixed interval after the target ship has already executed their Jump.”

“It can’t be an effect that was broadcast from the targeted ship?”

“No, Sire. Not unless it is sent instantaneously after that small fixed nanosecond delay I described. That would violate the speed of light constraint.”

The High Commander was frustrated. “It’s like our own ships are being targeted with Decoherence bombs, the instant we try to hit the enemy.”

“Sire, they would need to have duplicated our technology, to manufacture the warheads, and then design a launcher for them, and know precisely when to fire at our ships.”

“Exactly,” Trindal trumpeted in puzzlement. “They must also identify the right ship, out of thousands, and hit it immediately.” That sounded paranoid, even to his suspicious mind.

There were other worries he needed to address more than this conundrum. “How long before the next two enemy forces arrive?”

The AI informed him that half the time between the first group’s arrival and the enemy reinforcements reaching Wendal had elapsed.

“How many more of our fleet elements have arrived? How strong are we compared to their force?”

“Three thousand sixty-four Smashers arrived, and two hundred nine Guardians, Sire. Our forces, despite the losses suffered, will be double their combined strength.”

Trindal trumpeted in disgust. “The Guardians are nearly useless in this longer-range battle. We either start killing or disabling more of their ships, or the loss ratio will grow unsustainable for us.”

Allowing the enemy to stand off and draw his fire had not been productive. He decided to alter what his far more numerous fleet had been doing up until now.

Chapter 11: Countering Counter Measures

On a group link to every ship, Mirikami was compelled to issue the most difficult order he’d ever uttered.

“People, we’re hurting them bad, but we’ve also been hurt. Wanting to help our damaged brother and sister ships is natural, but that is too costly to the mission. Therefore, I order that no one is to attempt a rescue operation of any ship that has been hit. They’ll need to escape on their own. We must keep hitting the enemy fleet because they’ve already replaced the serious losses we’ve caused, and more Smashers are on the way and a third of those will have D-launch capability. We have a chance today to truly cripple the combined Thandol fleets.

“A Mark II has greater redundancy than a Scout, and all five of those damaged ships made their escape. But if a Scout blunders into a drifting D-bomb after a micro Jump, they lose too much hull and too many embedded Trap field antennas. They can’t form a Jump Hole or hold onto tachyons for the Normal Space drive. They’re left adrift, without stealth, and always draw a barrage of D-bombs. Two Scouts died trying to rescue the crew of one.

“Scarsdale and his crew bravely used their Mark II to save that same disabled Scout, which he towed to safety. That was when a D-bomb targeting that Scout nearly got them. The Magic moved close enough to the Scout to include it inside an expanded Jump Hole. The Magic lost use of one gravity projector and two crew members as a result, and is out of this phase of the battle.

“That was a brave crew, and I’ll recognize them when this is over. The two surviving women of the Scout’s crew I’m sure are grateful. But now the Magic and four other Mark IIs are out of the fight, and thirteen Scouts out of fourteen hit were lost with all hands. We led the advance attack using these type ships for good reason. We can’t afford to increase the risk of having them lost or disabled.

“Nineteen of us are out of the fight, but the four hundred thirty-nine we started with managed to destroy or disable two thousand three hundred nine Smashers, most of them ones with Decoherence launchers. Add in the four Crushers, and at least two hundred flimsy Guardians hit by their debris, and our small force is tearing them new assholes. We MUST take out more of the D-launcher Smashers before the other two groups arrive. We have the only ships that can send D-bombs back to the launcher’s coordinates, to selectively kill those ships. However, as our lost or damaged ships prove, we can’t dodge indefinitely.”

Even while he made that Comtap transmission, the Mark micro Jumped once, just ahead of an incoming Decoherence bomb that would have destroyed its Bridge. Or in some sense, it had done so, because that destruction caused the reflected low power tachyon wave that propagated instantly from the congruent (or was it tangential) time reversed Universe. The tachyon reflection wave returned just before the D-bomb arrived, and the ship micro Jumped to prevent that destruction, thus canceling out, or neutralizing, the wave announcing the avoided destruction.

The next step, after the evasion Jump, was the key to turning a great defense into a good offence. The AI placed a stasis field around where the D-bomb would arrive. Caught, as it rotated out of tachyon space, the frozen time applied to that small volume prevented the warhead’s detonation. Then, the stasis field was rotated back into Tachyon Space and sent to the triangulated coordinates of origin, as determined by the three polarized waves that had signaled its imminent arrival.

It was a frequently repeated technological Return to Sender, which sent a D-bomb back to the parent Smasher and one of its three launchers. When the warhead again rotated into Normal Space, the stasis field vanished in a burst of gamma rays, and the march of time resumed. Those gammas might have been highly hazardous to any living Thandol near the launcher, except they were converted into a puff of atomized and expanding particles by the warhead’s activation.

The frequent and fully automated micro Jumping was somewhat disorienting to the human crews, who were mostly along for the ride, except when they needed to launch Nova bombs at selected targets, to continue to encourage the Thandol to shoot at them. They intended to become more involved personally in the combat, but only after the remainder of their forces arrived. By then, at the current rate of attrition, there wouldn’t be very many operational D-launcher equipped Smashers to worry about, and they comprised roughly a third of the entire Thandol fleet.

Suddenly, the personal part of the conflict was nearly stuck up their asses. Only Kobani reaction time and high acceleration limits on their ships enabled them to dodge the barrage of missiles and energy beams unleashed, when suddenly, two thousand enemy ships, both Smashers and Guardians, micro Jumped into their loose formation.

This was so uncharacteristic of the Thandol that Mirikami hadn’t discussed how to confront such an aggressive tactic. Thanks to memory matrix and previous Mind Taps with older and more experienced Kobani captains, he didn’t need to. This had been a Krall tactic, and in seconds every Kobani captain implemented the tried and tested Jump, shoot, and Jump and shoot again tactic, which they had perfected against the Krall. No missiles found them, because they were too slow moving and they had poor tracking on the Kobani craft, despite Thandol ship sensors knowing where they were by outline. Fortunately, that technological advancement had not come in time for retrofitting tens of thousands of existing anti-ship missiles, to counter this unexpected assault on Wendal.

However, enemy plasma bolts and heavy lasers lashed at hulls of slower to evade ships, temporarily damaging their stealth, at least until the flowing hull material healed the damage. Perfectly functioning stealth was less vital now, because the Thandol had learned how to image human ships well enough to aim beams at their silhouettes.

The Thandol’s own bodies were a weakness they couldn’t circumvent, because it was difficult to maneuver their ships sharply enough to compete with a Kobani pilot, or to allow their AIs to do it for them, to capitalize on the surprise attack after the first few seconds. These were lessons they could have learned in advance, had they not allowed their egos to get in the way, by failing to fully consult with their security forces, who had gained that experience the hard way, in fleet combat with Kobani.

An elephantine body that reacted poorly to fee fall or inversion, and the imperfect internal inertial compensation inside their ships, meant they were ill equipped to withstand the twists and turns of what amounted to a raging dog fight in space. That physical limitation is what had driven the Thandol to use T-cubed travel, Decoherence bomb technology, massive firepower, and multiple fleets containing many large ships, to pound their enemy’s fleets and planets into submission. They didn’t engage in the art of fencing, when wielding a massive club worked best for their physiology.

When the stand-off and pound-your-opponent strategy failed today, in the face of the enemy’s superior new technology that avoided the D-bombs, Trindal sought another option. His thinking was guided by the limits noted of human use of gravity weapons revealed in the PU Scout attack at Rouge 1. There, the black holes they used as unstoppable missiles on the thirty Smashers, couldn’t even touch the surface installations of the planet sized, but abandoned massive moon base. High Commander Trindal entertained the belief that they could get close enough to “stomp” their opponents today, by using localized powerful gravity fields to disrupt the Trap fields that contained the tachyons used to produce weaponized small black holes.

Using Jump capable shuttles and patrol boats, Thandol scientists had experimented with having them generate a planetary mass equivalent gravity field around themselves, without employing the mass to create the event horizon needed to rotate into Tachyon Space, as would happen if they were about to Jump. They then remotely flew the shuttles into the gravity wells of moons, and eventually of dead rocky planets. When the local gravity field reached close to the magnitude at the surface of that planetary moon base at Rogue 1, the test gravity fields lost tachyon confinement of their Trap fields, as they approached the surface of the airless test worlds.

That distance into the sample gravity wells established the minimum planetary mass required, which could disrupt whatever Trap field method the Federation used to send a black hole down to a planet for a destructive attack. The solution, they reasoned, for protecting any ship from those same black holes as weapons, was to generate a gravity field around each ship of slightly greater than that strength.

Trindal had deduced that the sole purpose of the human strategy, with the small formation, was to stand off and decimate their Decoherence equipped Smashers. He didn’t know how they were doing that, but those ships represented a vital part of the Thandol naval force, and with them taken out of the fight before the full enemy force arrived, he knew the humans intended to make the main battle a “dog fight.”

With Smasher and Guardian AI’s programed to generate an external gravity field of the appropriate mass equivalent, and compensated it internally on the ships to prevent incapacitating their crews, the Thandol felt prepared to engage in that same sort of combat.

They had studied the combat records from Smasher’s loaned to the Ragnar in their early space battles with humans, at a colony planet the humans called Zanzibar. That had been a battle of position by the human ships, of a jab and move style of space combat. Here, that tactic would seem to favor the numerous small Scouts more than it did the larger Mark IIs, all of which apparently had gravity weapons.

Trindal dispatched a thousand Smashers to attack the larger human ships, and a thousand otherwise useless but more agile Guardians to attack the much smaller enemy ships, micro Jumping directly into the enemy formation, with a secondary Trap field of their three available, used to maintain a planetary strength gravity well close around themselves. That would affect their own missile launches, but because of the stealth the enemy used, missiles couldn’t track them effectively anyway. It might, however, prevent the small black holes from reaching them before suddenly evaporating, as their tachyons were released from the Trap fields.

A Smasher mounted multiple energy beam weapons to attack the larger human ships, and those would surely be more powerful than any used by the small Scouts. Even the Guardians outgunned the Scouts, provided the enemy gravity weapons were excluded. The Thandol counted on the low numbers of the Federation ships to give the Smashers and Guardians the advantage over them, and the individual surrounding gravity fields to shield them from enemy black holes.

When it happened, four hundred twenty Kobani ships, maneuvering in their deliberate “target gallery” formation, found themselves matched against a thousand Smashers and a thousand Guardians, which was clearly a risky proposition at close range. Nevertheless, Mirikami instantly expected the kill ratio to strongly favor the Federation. The Thandol were trying to use their history of thousands of years of sheer numbers being used to crush their opponents. Only there was no home planet to threaten today, to force an enemy to withdraw to preserve their homes and families. Seventy five percent of the Thandol navy was here, or enroute to Wendal, recalled by an Emperor so rattled by his own frailty, that his empire was less important than his personal survival.

Now that D-bomb avoidance was removed from the combat equation, the five previously damaged Mark II’s quickly micro Jumped to rejoin the formation, to engage in up-close combat.

Because the Federation’s strongest figurative “jab” was an unblockable small black hole formed by a gravity projector, the damaged Mark IIs should be deadly, even with just one projector. The undamaged ships had two such projectors, and if you weren’t shooting from long range, using two projectors to direct a single black hole in a non-linear trail that didn’t lead back to your ship, wasn’t needed. The Mark IIs and Scouts could each form two event horizons and send them faster than a missile could move, in separate straight lines at the closest enemy ships, followed by a micro Jump to safety.

The Mark IIs also had hundreds of anti-ship missiles which could track Thandol ships, although the Scouts only carried four of them. A Scout’s two medium power lasers would be damaging against a lightly armored Guardian, but couldn’t penetrate deep into a Smasher. Their best use against the larger ships would be to disable a firing port for a plasma cannon or heavy laser. With Thandol ship’s weak stealth, any of the Kobani ships could do that accurately, and the Plasma cannons of Mark IIs were as powerful as their clanship cousins.

Outnumbered nearly five to one, Mirikami still thought their evasiveness and gravity projectors gave them a strong combat edge. Then came a shocking revelation.

Their first-choice weapons, projected black holes that could not be disabled by any beam or missile, nor blocked by any armor, weren’t hitting a single target. The Thandol weren’t micro Jumping away in advance, in fact they made far fewer evasive micro Jumps than Federation craft.

The event horizons the Scouts and Marks formed simply vanished in a flash of gamma rays before punching through any enemy ship, including the presumably defenseless Guardians. It was fortunate that ingrained Kobani combat reflexes dictated continuous movement, and a micro Jump the moment the black hole was delivered, or was shockingly evaporated in this fight. This proved to be a smart survival tactic.

The targeted ships, either Smashers or Guardians, promptly fired either plasma bolts or lasers along the linear backtrail of the deadly little objects, which their mass detectors had traced out for them, and somewhere in the background was a moving shadowy Federation target that was ill defined for hitting specific weapons ports, but adequate to hit the ship. It wouldn’t take long for enemy AIs to start coordinating return fire, to send more energy beams through probable locations for the enemy warships. A Mark II would be able to withstand multiple such hits, but an unarmored Scout might not survive the first plasma bolt, or two heavy laser hits.

To eliminate the linear backtrail, dual projector ships resumed using both to project a single black hole off to the side, and move it in a curving trajectory towards the target. Return fire came nowhere near the ship generating the event horizon, but more frustratingly, the event horizons still came nowhere near striking the intended targets.

Thad Greeves was the one to notice that his midsized black holes, intended to puncture a Guardian, evaporated much closer to the target that did the larger ones sent at a Smasher. Against the far larger target, he was using a more massive object with a wider event horizon, to sweep through the enemy ship with a single killing pass. That event horizon evaporated considerably farther away from the target.

He used the general link, so everyone would hear. “Tet, the larger the black hole, the farther way they vanish from the targets.”

“Really? Let me ask Jake for an analysis. I haven’t hit a single target yet either. They appear to have found a counter for our best weapon. Everybody, use missiles and energy beams, and keep your butts moving and Jumping.”

There was a surge of nine explosions from missile hits by Federation ships, because the Thandol stealth was so ineffective. Nevertheless, their laser defenses were picking off most of the incoming missiles. Guardians died in larger numbers, due to their lighter armor. They were not primary targets often, however, because they didn’t represent as powerful a weapons platform as did a Smasher.

Jake’s analysis came quickly. “Sir, there appears to be strong gravity fields close around each Thandol vessel. Their presence is reveled not only by the range at which larger event horizons lose tachyon containment of the projected Trap fields, but by analysis of curving anti-missile tracks when the enemy launches at us, or as ours drive inbound from our ships. There is also a small but negligible refraction of laser and plasma bolts.”

Mirikami was dismayed. He’d apparently let his force get enveloped by the enemy without retaining the advantage he’d assumed they held. “So, we can’t hit them because the Trap fields holding the high-energy tachyons lose confinement?”

“Yes, Sir. For the size of event horizons which you have been using.”

Mirikami caught the inference immediately. “What radius of a black hole would the Traps be able to maintain tachyon containment, and still reach the enemy ships?”

“Perhaps half the size of the one foot diameter you have been using on Guardians. That would be the size of your hand, or smaller. This is an estimate for the larger projectors on a Mark II class ship. Those of a Scout simply do not have the power to maintain the containment all the way to the target.”

Instantly switching to the group link, Mirikami modified their mode of attack. “All Mark II’s reduce the generated black hole radius to six inches or less. The enemy has placed planetary mass gravity wells around themselves, to disrupt our projected Trap fields. Jake says only the Mark IIs have projector power to hold tachyon containment all the way to the target.

“I want three Scouts to test this computation anyway. That’s Marciano, Stillwell, and Keetch. The rest of you Scouts switch to gravity rods now, and terminate steering when the guidance black hole evaporates and do a micro Jump. The rod will keep right on going. Make certain Your AIs coordinate with all of ours, so we don’t pass in front of your rods track. It’s gotten crowded out here. Whatever we learn now, we’ll pass on to Mauss and Foxworthy. They arrive in about eight minutes.”

In well under a minute, thirty-nine Mark IIs demonstrated the same number of Smashers could be destroyed or disabled by being turned into cosmic Swiss cheese. Two Mark IIs, with single gravity projectors and only a linear delivery of their five-inch event horizons possible, demonstrated that staying behind the backtrail of their black holes made them ideal targets for massed Thandol plasma bolt and laser fire. They were blown apart in under thirty seconds of that barrage.

It was doubly tragic for one Mark II. The heroes of the Magic, and the two women of the Scout crew they’d rescued were gone in a final act of heroism.

In an understated order, Mirikami told the remaining three damaged Mark IIs with single gravity projectors, to concentrate on attacking isolated Guardians, and do it at close range to decrease the length of the back trail. That could be done in a single pass of the black hole to destroy or disable the smaller vessels, and then execute a micro Jump.

The three test Scouts confirmed that they could not deliver even one inch black holes to their targets, and had launched gravity rods.  Even as that report was delivered, three hundred eighty-one, gravity launched dense metal rods fired by the other Scouts, tore through Smashers and Guardians at one quarter the velocity of light, spewing residue out the opposite sides. Ridiculously small brilliant spears of plasma coming out the small entry holes, with a larger cone of debris erupting from the opposite side of the smaller guardians.

A few missed targets had turned away in time or micro Jumped, but in under two minutes of the initiation of the surprise Thandol attack, they had lost another four hundred nineteen warships, a disproportionate number of them being Smashers, because most of the Scout captains refused to shoot at the lesser threat Guardian targets. There were five hundred ninety-three Smashers remaining of the thousand sent to destroy the far smaller enemy formation, and only two of the Mark IIs and three Scouts had been taken out of the fight.

The number of Smashers went down again in a matter of seconds, because Kobani don’t waste time, and the Mark II’s perforated additional Smashers, and Gravity rods were launched by the hundreds from Scouts.

By the time Trindal recalled his remaining ships, mostly Guardians by then, to join the main body of the Thandol fleet, he knew the bulk of the enemy fleet’s arrival was imminent. He knew his forces still greatly outnumbered the ships about to arrive, and he didn’t think the enemy was coming to conquer and occupy Wendal.

Regardless of the outcome of the defense of Wendal, which was only a single Thandol occupied planet of the several hundred in the empire, he knew as High Commander of the entire Empire, that he would not obey the mad Emperor’s order. Farlol had just ordered to come to Wendal, for a pointless sacrifice, the remaining six thousand ships of the Sector one and Sector two fleets, waiting on the borders of those security sectors. Those warships, and any that survived here, would be needed to constitute the backbone of a fleet that he would require for defending the Thandol inhabited worlds from their own Security forces, and from the Federation. The Security forces would likely revolt and go on the offensive as soon as the reduction in Thandol naval power became apparent.

If the Thandol fleet remained double the size of individual Security force fleets, they would probably decide to fight one another over control of the worlds in what had been their security sectors, trying to establish smaller empires of their own. They would avoid fighting a stronger Thandol force, and the Thandol would then rebuild, and eventually take their empire back.

There was a serious drawback to Trindal’s hurried plan. It could work, unless the Federation, and this claim of a separate Planetary Union of humans, decided to fight them for the pieces of the divided empire.

Trindal, who would claim the throne for himself, would need as many loyal noble families as he could recruit. He had started organizing the evacuation of the noble families he wanted as his base, to go to whichever planet he established as his throne world. He would rebuild his fleets on the backs of the nearby subservient species, and when he next faced this berserker human species, he would make them his new security force after they were defeated. Egos of his magnitude had required over twenty-five thousand years to cultivate and perfect, and a minor setback like the loss of a vast empire couldn’t diminish his.

****

Mauss was startled when the Thandol fleet, which still outnumbered them over two to one, with a large reserve yet to call in, abruptly Jumped as a unit, except for the damaged warships that couldn’t do so. The large tachyon trace of their wake endured, proving they were abandoning Wendal to the uncertain mercies of their enemy.

“I didn’t think they’d ever abandon their capitol. We saw no ships leaving the palace complex, but the emperor could have been spirited away on one of the thousands of commercial ships we saw flee the planet in the last few hours.”

There had been a steady stream of large and small cargo and passenger ships lifting from the planet, only to Jump as soon as they cleared the atmosphere. The Federation and PU ships had no intention of firing on them, but the Thandol expected no more mercy than they had shown to their past conquests, when the citizens of defeated and annexed planets tried to flee subservience. Many of them must have carried VIPs, because the Thandol fleet renewed futile and costly attacks on human warships each time, as a distraction.

Mirikami, who had just been in a link with Maggi, had the advantage of her slowly growing expertise of Thandol psychology.

“Golda, Admiral Foxworthy, I’m convinced there’s about to be a second Emperor declared. Maggi’s confident we’ll find Farlol the 84th still inside his palace. Perhaps still crapping his guts out in quarantine, surrounded by his loyal Imperial Palace guards. He may even call out his ceremonial Marching Army with their outsized weapons and flashy uniforms, stomping their feet all together in the review square, to scare us away from the palace. He could already be dead if there was a traditional coup, but he’s been isolated and infectious, so I doubt his usurper would personally get close enough kill him, as tradition would expect. I’d like to know for certain.”

Foxworthy laughed at the mental image of stomping elephant marchers. “We’ll just blast the palace and their marching asses from orbit and go home, right?”

“Admiral, I’d take it as a personal favor if you waited until after me and my people lifted off. And maybe not even then.”

“What? You’re not going down there, are you?”

“Yes. There are a dozen Mark II’s preparing to Jump directly to the Imperial Palace complex rooftops, and two landing areas, with quite a few Kobani in armor that transferred from clanships that arrived with Golda. Using direct Jumps, we don’t risk being fired on from the ground as we descend, and we have several missions I’d like to accomplish.”

“If you’re not going there to take out the Emperor, what would you be doing? Capture him?”

“Our first step is to rescue the palace household spies that have been helping us, and keep the Thandol Palace guards or the Marching Army from killing any aliens that were forced to come here and work for their overlords. We spoke to our insiders via communications devices we gave them, and told them to spread the word to other noble household help, and use their servant’s access to gather in the low security outer sections of the Imperial Palace, and a few levels below that, where the hired help works. We intend to take them safely home.”

“Is that all? You said several missions.”

“There are supposed to be Olt’kitapi survivors that have been kept prisoner by the Thandol for many generations, but we don’t know where they’ve been held. A single subservient species we know of sheltered the other Olt’kitapi survivors, keeping them hidden from the Thandol. These are the same ones that recently moved to the Federation.

“Their former guardians know all the dietary preferences of the adult and larval forms, and they may have learned of a clue to where the Thandol’s prisoners are kept. The subject incidentally came up when I talked with the leaders of the former protector species of the surviving Olt’kitapi, telling them in a humorous fashion, how unhappy the meat eating rippers were when they shared lunch with the free Olt’kitapi. Fruits, nuts, and insects are not good ripper fare.”

He’d promised not to expose the Hothor as the species that had helped the Olt’kitapi, so he didn’t say who provided this next clue.

“They noted that similar food items that might be suitable for an Olt’kitapi diet are commonly sold at a servant’s market, located just outside the palace grounds. Considering the various alien species, which Thandol nobility employed as servants, food of that nature wasn’t considered unusual in that market. What was odd, is that palace security officers routinely ordered items like that, and had them delivered to a palace entrance, where aliens are not allowed to pass. Thandol civilians always paid for, and moved the items inside.

“Per older servants, who have served on previous capitol worlds of other emperors, this has been a repeated pattern at other palaces. Even a well-traveled Thandol wouldn’t likely eat insects or their parts, and not regularly. We believe Emperors have kept some of their former Olt’kitapi rivals as prisoners, keeping them nearby for many generations.

“When Farlol the 84th claimed the former territory that belonged to the Olt’kitapi, after we defeated the Krall, he announced that subservient Olt’kitapi, obedient to him, had approved the annexation. I want to find those prisoners, if he left them alive.”

“I can appreciate that.” Foxworthy acknowledged.

Mirikami next outlined a political and strategic reason to determine if the Emperor was still alive. “I think knowing if Farlol was killed in a coup, or is alive and still in quarantine, is valuable knowledge for us. It might give us an idea of how fractured the Thandol ruling families are right now. How quickly they might unite and form a reduced Imperial territory.

“I hope Farlol number eighty-four is alive. If he is, I want him to stay that way, to divide the loyalty of the Thandol nobility, and oppose whoever ordered the fleet’s retreat today. If there’s a civil war between competing Emperors, and then the Security forces do as I expect, taking possession of regions where they enforced the Emperor’s rule, then the PU and Federation should have a welcome breather before any of the competing factions can threaten us again.

“Long before any one of them grows strong enough to attempt an expansion in our direction, we need to make certain they stay wary of trying anything that dangerous to their own existence.”

“Tet, you do take the long view. I’m just a sailor of the PU, and that’s all I ever wanted to be.”

“Janet, I still consider myself just a Spacer, and if you ask Bledso, I’ll bet she wanted, in her sailor’s heart, to do what you and Golda just did. Nabarone just wanted to be a militia solder on Poldark. We all have gone where we were needed, and did what needed to be done, despite our simpler goals in life. We each rose to the occasion, to make certain that those simpler goals continued to exist for others.”

Foxworthy was still reveling in having become a Kobani. “With nanites and the Prada gene, we’ll get to do that a hell of a lot longer than we expected.”

“True. We still have the long-term impact of our indefinite lives to consider. Those of us that prefer to confront our enemies as we did here, might not have to face that long future, but most of us will. Perhaps we should spend more time talking to the Prada. Wister is over twelve hundred years old, and his sister Nawella is a bit older. But even that age pales compared to the probable ages of members of the elevated species we told you about. We know they stay interested in the Universe at large, observing the future candidates for elevation. There must be more for them to do than follow that hobby.”

“Well, I for one can wait. I still find the mystery of what else there is to discover in this one galaxy more than enough to keep me interested.”

“I do too.”

“OK, Tet. Be careful, and if you see him, tell the Emperor to kiss my ass. We’re picking up survivors now. Even from the other side. No need to behave like the assholes we just defeated.”

****

“Hey Dad, I understand that the size of a Thandol was first compared to Sarge’s height. Is that right?” Ethan had just stepped out of the Mark, where it was poised on the roof of an upper level of the Imperial Palace. He expected to meet his first Thandol at any moment.

“Yeah,” Thad answered. “The Dismantler Pholowela showed his image standing next to a typical Thandol for scale.”

“Hmmm. Was that before or after he developed that beer belly? These could be huge suckers.” Winking, he nudged Carson, standing with him on the extended airlock ramp.

Reynolds, usually the originator of snide comments, patted his stomach, or rather the armor covering it. “Flat and hard as ever, boys.”

“Much like his head,” Thad suggested, with a grin.

Mirikami, standing out on the sagging rooftop where the heavy Mark had landed, said, “Your Aunt Maggi slapped our two Thandol prisoners around all by herself, no armor, so size doesn’t matter. By the way, I asked Noreen to leave both the Thandol behind when she lifts off. We aren’t going to hold them any longer.

Carson frowned. “Could they provide clues of where home is?”

“No. Maggi Mind Tapped them to be sure, but they never saw the outside sky while locked up on Haven.

“Anyway, let’s disembark everyone right now, in case Jake needs to relocate the Mark. This roof isn’t made from as strong a composite as we use in our higher gravity structures. With the sagging I see started, it might cave in.”

There were just over a thousand armored Kobani on the Mark, so their weight leaving might ease the strain just enough. The Mark, and eleven other Mark IIs had popped loudly into real space, just above the large palace compound, and settled at strategic locations. Mirikami had selected a wide roof, near where he and Maggi had landed their Scout on the night they infected the Emperor’s personal browsing plots with parasite eggs.

The Kobani activated suit stealth, and spread out to investigate the myriad rooms of the luxurious residential upper levels of the Imperial Palace. In minutes, not only was there no opposition encountered, there were no Thandol civil servants or security forces anywhere to be seen. The upper levels appeared to have been abandoned for several weeks, based on the dust, and ashes of burned plots of what would normally be lush with tender shoots of well cared for sugar spear sprouts. It looked like a scorched earth policy had been applied to the plots, and the royal living quarters, guest housing, security barracks, civil servant quarters, administrative sections, were all empty, left in disarray as if abandoned in a hurry.

This clearly happened well before the assault on Wendal, so likely came immediately after the parasite infestation of the Emperor, his entourage, noble visitors, and harem had been discovered. The quarantine of the infected Thandol nobles was being maintained elsewhere, and wasn’t a detail that the alien household help had been allowed to learn.

This was the upper levels. There were civil servants and security forces in abundance in the middle levels, and around the heavily gilded Imperial throne room. Where its weight wasn’t an issue, there was solid gold décor, such as guide rails, tables for food for visitors or guests to browse, gold trunk-shaped handles to open doors, and solid gold water troughs with cool flowing water. But none of the royal court was present.

At the ground level spacecraft landing area, which the Avenger used, the stealthed Kobani Noreen had brought with her encountered heavy plasma rifle fire from the moment the main airlock hatch opened. It was poorly aimed at chest level, because a few low crawling armored figures swiftly worked their way out below the bolts, proving the shooters couldn’t see them.

The shooters were Palace Guards, firing from the concealment of armored revetments, in a defensive arrangement that appeared to be based on an ancient design that wasn’t intended to be a defense from an invading force. There likely hadn’t been an enemy invasion of an imperial palace since early Thandol history, if then. Their big bodies, cloaked in draped anti-laser and plasma bolt armor, was cinched around their post-like legs, with their feet tucked into armored boots that were part of the draped material.

The front and broad dome of their heads was also shielded, but to keep the freedom of flexibility of their two trunks, and two tentacles, they held up an armored shield to protect their faces, with modest transparent ports to see through, and a slot for the barrel of a weapon. Their weapon barrels were exposed, but a sighting system allowed the shooters to keep clear of the slot as they saw what their weapon was aimed at, and the transparent ports were polarized, to limit a laser’s effect.

Using their automated weapon sights, they didn’t need to expose their face, trunks, or tentacles, to incoming fire through the slot, or laser beams through the eye ports. The fold-out mobile shields normally hung around their necks, and when opened and lifted they were as high as the top of their heads, and nearly as wide as their body. Clumsy, compared to full body armor, but from a concealed position like the revetments, it was effective protection for a bulky body like theirs.

There apparently had never been a need for plasma cannons or heavy lasers to be mounted within an Imperial Palace. Not when an enemy’s ships would presumably be reduced to atomized particles by D-bombs in orbit, long before they could ever land. If some alien ground force somehow infiltrated and reached the palace grounds, they would be incapacitated by Debilitater rays, such as those that were now being played across the tarmac. The Palace Guards had adequate shielding from reflected radiation, and they had no idea that the humans they faced were effectively immune from the nerve shattering effects, even without shielded armor.

Jorl Breaker and Cal Branson teamed together to work their way near one of the revetments off to the side of the ship’s open hatch. They’d noticed the shooter there was forced to lean out slightly to aim at the hatch, then would pull back. Up to now the Kobani had held their fire because Mirikami had asked for live prisoners. Members of the security force would probably have answers to where the Emperor and all the high-ranking imperials from the upper palace levels had gone.

Jorl was waiting for the rifle barrel to poke around the corner again. His plan was to pull the weapon through the shield’s slot, and Cal would grab the side of the shield and pull that free. Then they’d grab the disarmed Thandol, and step through the revetment opening into the protected corridor behind the outer wall.

The shield and protruding rifle barrel came out of the darkened corridor, and Jorl firmly grasped the weapon and yelled, “Gotcha!” and yanked hard.

There was the shrill sound of a bugle, as not only the rifle came free, but the shield came with it. There was a wider conical secondary shield built onto the rifle, to protect the shooter’s trunk and tentacles from beams or bolts that made it through the slot. That cone had jammed in the slot.

The shrill sound was one of pain as the second trunk, inserted through rear mounted loops on the back of the shield, was scraped bloody when its protection was torn away.

Cal grabbed the trunk that had been holding the rifle, and the tentacle that operated the trigger, the other tentacle had been poised to adjust the ammunition selector. The large rifle could fire a projectile, a laser, or a plasma bolt, as the trooper chose. The free right tentacle whipped back over the Thandol’s head to grasp a short sword in a scabbard, strapped to side of its neck. The large size of the grip suggested the double-edged blade was intended to be wielded by one of the much stronger trunks, but it was adjusting. Not that it mattered.

Jorl crushed the rifle barrel with a squeeze of his left gauntlet, and his right hand came up and across the trooper’s face to pluck the short sword away from the tentacle, as Cal pushed the Thandol back into the corridor. The two Kobani followed it swiftly, in case another trooper saw what happened, and took a shot into the revetment opening. The two men filled the opening briefly, nearly shoulder to shoulder, and a plasma bolt would scorch armor and damage the stealth coating, or even penetrate if it struck a flex-joint.

Once in the darkened corridor, the Thandol kicked at Cal, and took a swipe at Jorl with the free trunk. He was rewarded with a loud metallic sounding “thwack” sound, as Jorl used the flat side of the short sword blade to bash him hard on the forehead, between its red rimed eyes. Delivered by a Kobani, even hitting the head’s armor plate delivered a stunning impact, and the trooper’s left front knee started to sag, and his kicking leg on the right, couldn’t return to the floor in time to stop his awkward collapse to his chest and front belly.

He’d continued his trumpeting, in deeper notes than the initial shrill scream of pain. Their Comtaps translator subroutines had been activated, and it was the Thandol equivalent of “Help me.”

A red laser streaked past Jorl from behind him, and the beam scattered off the draped armor of the Thandol. Turning his head that way, he had no problem seeing the trooper at the next revetment, his shield poised and a motion behind the slot suggested an explosive projectile or plasma bolt would come next.

He mentally triggered the highest power plasma bolt his suit could fire, and directed a green laser at the view port on the left side of the shield, and a red beam through the right port. The plasma bolt passed through the slot, just above the rifle’s conical shield. He blew off the tentacle that was selecting whatever it intended to fire at him next. Jorl’s infrared vision had seen the heat of both eyes peering at him through the shield’s view ports. The green beam passed through the left port relatively unattenuated, but the red beam, like those the Thandol rifles fired was largely blocked, but some portion of the coherent light leaked through.

It was enough. One eye destroyed, another dazzled enough to temporarily blind him, and missing a tentacle, the Thandol turned and ran, scrapping against the corridor wall for guidance. Jorl let him go.

He heard Cal’s suit speaker bugling and trumpeting, with slight strains of bagpipe notes, asking the Thandol trooper something. His own subroutine translated. “Where is the Emperor and his court?”

There was a defiant reply. “I will die killing you base animals. The Emperor is where you can never harm him.”

Cal looked at Jorl in confusion, and by Comtap asked him, “Was sublevel 1100 what you got from his mind? Damn, that’s deep. This palace is really dug in if it goes that far down.”

Jorl ran the number through a Quaternary to Decimal number conversion. “It’s still deep, but they have a base four number system. That converts to level 80 in decimal.”

Jorl said, “It’s my turn. Let me ask him the other thing Tet wanted to know.”

He phrased it in Standard, but it was issued from his suit speaker in Thandol. “Are the Olt’kitapi prisoners kept here?”

There was a widening of the trooper’s eyes, and a pause before he asked, “What are they?”

Cal laughed. “He’s bad at lying. He pretended he didn’t know who they were. But he knows about the food brought in for them. Unfortunately, he really doesn’t know where they are kept. However, I see from the insignia on his headpiece that he’s low ranking. I’ll find out where a superior is located that might know.”

After that question was asked, Cal passed the information to the other Kobani from the Avenger contingent, and in a matter of minutes, and a couple of dozen dead and wounded Thandol security troopers later, they had a firmer answer from a watch commander of the Imperial Guard, who lost a trunk before being disarmed.

“Tet, this is Cal. You came in at the top of the palace heap, but what you want is underground. The Emperor is at sublevel 80 in decimal numbers, and the Olt’kitapi are kept at level 96. I don’t recommend you use any of their elevator systems, since they’re all monitored, and equipped with remote activated defensive measures. The numbers are marked in Thandol script at each landing level, on ramps that spiral down around the elevators from the Emperor’s sleeping chamber, where you started. The script numbers will correspond to their digits 1100 for the Emperor’s hospital level, and level 1200 for the Olt’kitapi prisoners.

“From the officer we questioned, there are less than two thousand of the prisoners still alive. They killed and mutilated thousands of adults and caterpillar forms when they tried to force them to record or make a public statement granting the Empire rights to their former worlds. They refused, and many of them died over a lengthy period. Those Olt’kitapi never heard of us, but their delaying the Empire’s ambitions worked to our advantage, allowing us time to form the Federation, and consolidate a little after the Krall were defeated.”

“Cal, which forces were involved with killing and torturing the Olt’kitapi?”

“The palace security forces did it, most of which are also in the Imperial Guard.”

“OK. No more taking it easy on security forces and uniformed Imperial Guards. If they shoot at us, shoot to kill. Accept surrenders, if any, but every officer taken alive will be Mind Tapped, and will go down with us, leading the way on the ramps. I might muzzle and tie some up and put them on elevators to see if they have automated booby traps. There also must be back doors out of those deep levels. When we find where they lead, we’ll place blocking forces.”

Noreen wondered if the goal had changed. “The Emperor’s probably going to resist capture. You told Foxworthy you wanted Farlol left alive.”

“I still do, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going confront him personally.”

“While he’s in quarantine? What about infection?”

“We don’t eat grass or have multiple stomachs for the parasites to go through their life cycles. The Hothor told us the subservient species on Wendal were never at risk, and neither are we. Besides, I don’t plan to hug him or change his diaper.”

“How many are you taking down with you?” Her son, Carson, would likely be one of them. She hoped a lot of Kobani went along.

“Most of my contingent. There’s been little resistance up on the top levels. If you and the other ships gather the alien servants for evacuation, and hold the perimeter of the palace compound, we know our backs are protected.”

“You got it.”

****

The blasts, from eight or ten levels below the surface, was adequate to confirm the wisdom of their avoidance of the large multi-Thandol sized lifts. It wasn’t such great news for the four Thandol security officers that made the rides down. As it happened, the four elevators from the Imperial quarters had AIs that steadfastly refused to activate if a non-Thandol was even aboard. Not that any human intended to ride along anyway. Someone reached inside each car and pressed a muzzled trunk tip of a secured Thandol against the activation plate, after first selecting level 1100.

“I guess it’s comforting that the watch stander didn’t lie about that.” Ethan offered.

“Like Hell, he didn’t,” countered Sarge. “His Mind Tap told the truth, his lying trunks got him killed.”

That officer was aboard one of the four elevators that had triggered the detonations. An extended string of Kobani were now descending on equipment maintenance ramps, well off to the side of the large shaft used by the royal elevators, and their emergency use ramps. Two high ranking Security Officers were being manhandled and pushed down the ramps ahead of the Kobani. It turned out that their flywhisk tails were sensitive to the touch of insects, making them suitable Mind Tap contact points. If they became agitated or fearful of what lay ahead, that was warning of some sort of anti-intrusion measures.

The first set of deterrents, inside the entrance to the maintenance shaft, had caused all seven of the surviving Thandol prisoners to cringe at what they expected to be the cause of their painful deaths. Instead, holding the Thandol well back, two Kobani walked inside and triggered the two automated Debilitater transmitters. They used plasma bolts to blast the antennas and both transmitters, to clear the way.

Once they were twenty or so levels below where the parallel shaft detonations had been triggered, one of the two lead Thandol officers blithely walked into a deadly trap. The previously soft textured floor plates had changed to metal mesh some levels earlier, and when his second front foot pad touched down, the electrified plates activated with brilliant sparks from his armored boots, which were insulated on the inside and caused him no harm. However, two heavy lasers, concealed inside the wall of the next turn, lanced out and cut easily through his draped body armor, slicing him into four cauterized chunks of meat that fell apart onto the mesh and fried there.

The other Thandol officer, apparently pretending the corner turn made the angle too tight for both big bodies to pass at once held back, and was spared. Carson had its tail held in his right gauntlet, and had released the other tail from his left gauntlet when the now dead Thandol had turned the corner first. He was lucky to be alive, and made an important discovery.

The Thandol on his right had masked his thoughts, except for his shock and disappointment, when the unaware lower ranking officer died without taking their handler with him. He’d hoped Carson would stay closer behind the unsuspecting fellow prisoner and die with him. Then, using his insulating armored boots, he could safely run ahead over the sparking plates after pressing the decorative looking panel by his shoulder that marked the level number, to deactivate the lasers. The lasers could be reactivated after the next turn. He’d intended to get separated, and try to race ahead while the humans paused to figure out what had happened.

Carson yanked savagely on the tail, eliciting a shriek of pain as the Thandol backed farther from the corner. He walked over and slapped the panel, killing the lasers auto fire mode, and turned to the Thandol.

“You figured out how to mask your thoughts. You let your subordinate die, because he had never been called on to patrol this maintenance corridor, and didn’t know what was about to happen. You shielded your thoughts, but your emotions gave you away when he died, and I didn’t.”

The officer answered defiantly. “I would have sacrificed myself to kill you, had I known you would not follow Captain Gilfa around the corner.”

Mirikami, farther back, asked what had happened, and a swift Comtap group link informed them all.

“Tet, this Thandol managed to hide at least one thought from me, and he let his lower ranking, and ignorant companion walk into a trap. To get safe passage over the electrified plates and past the lasers, you press the level number panel before placing two of your feet on the walkway. He needed someone to trigger things, and we don’t walk in front, so he let his fellow officer activate the lasers when the plates went hot. He thought it would kill me too.”

“I saw him pause,” Mirikami noted. “He wasn’t ready to die to get you killed, despite what he told you. He may have wanted to run ahead to warn them, but they already know we’re coming, so he just wanted to save his own ass.

“In any case, we can’t let him lead, and we’ll have to be careful of any of them now. They have radio communications via their memcaches, but we had those frequencies jammed up top. We must be too deep for that to work now. He didn’t warn that captain, but he may have shared how he blocked your Mind Tap with the other five prisoners with us. Let’s see if we can pick one that doesn’t know how to block, and isn’t willing to die to slow us down.”

“What do we do with him? He can still communicate, although I have my suit AI monitoring him now.”

“Are the lasers and floor plates deactivated now?”

“Yes, Sir. If you press this corner wall plate they’re placed on automatic if anyone steps two feet on them, there’s another plate around the next corner to switch them on or off.”

“OK. We’ll paralyze him hard with a couple of Jazzers, remove some of the floor plates at the center of that corridor, and leave him in the middle. Activate the trap after we all pass the next corner.  He’ll be stuck there until found. He can’t fly to the end, and he’ll be down and out for a half hour before his nerves start to recover. Zap him in the head and he’ll be unconscious, or at least unable to communicate for that time.”

“Why not kill him?” Sarge wondered casually.

“Had he hurt one of us, he’d already be dead. He didn’t do anything one of us wouldn’t try.”

“We wouldn’t kill one of our own to get it done.”

“We aren’t one of them.”

“He’d kill any of us that tried to spring a trap.”

With a sigh, Mirikami repeated. “We aren’t one of them. I don’t want to become like them.”

“OK. Just exploring options.”

A short time later, the last Kobani turned the second corner, slapped the wall panel, and heard the faint hum of the laser transformers as they prepared to dump energy into their crystal matrix on command. A command that would occur if the awakening Thandol decided to step onto the mesh flooring.

They passed one more Debilitater trap, which jangled the nerves of the Thandol in front, whose face was exposed. There was no complaint from Sarge when they left the dead, contorted body behind them. They were over seventy levels down by this point, and any intruders should have been dead, or intercepted by the Imperial Guards. To avoid a verbal warning, or memcache transmission, without forewarning the remaining Thandol security officers were Jazzed into numb and unresponsive lumps, laying on the corridor ramp.

From here, the large band of invaders split into two groups, some continuing down the ramp around the service elevator shaft, with others going through connecting maintenance corridors to the main royal elevator shaft, and its ramp system. It had been sealed by the explosives sixty levels higher, by the descending lifts, containing one Thandol security officer in each.

Previously, Mind Taps of the senior security officers had revealed the layout of the hospital levels, with wards two levels below the main medical entrance. Above that were armored bunkers, for shelter from heavy orbital bombardments. Since that had not occurred, those spartan levels were unlikely to be occupied by any of the noble family members that had been infected with, or by Farlol the 84th. The spacious and well-appointed quarters below the medical center is where the Emperor and his closest advisors, also infected, would be located. Unless they had fled through the four escape routes, with two long ones equipped with train-like linked cars. All the escape routes now had Kobani teams in them. There was no way out.

The split forces coordinated their assault on the highest hospital level, and were confronted by ranks of Imperial Guards, spread around behind the high consoles the Thandol preferred instead of desks, and came rushing out of administrative offices to try to overwhelm the enemy as they swarmed from ramps next to the elevator shafts.

The Kobani were stealthed, but that hardly mattered when every suit was a source of multiple energy weapons. Automatic tracking, after an individual sighted and designated one of five simultaneous targets, ensured that the selected beam or bolt followed that target even as the suit’s owner dove, leaped, turned, slid, or twisted, to avoid the far slower and less well aimed fire from the rifles held by the guards. Most Thandol selected energy beams, which against typical opponents would have been the best choice. But bolts or lasers against hardened and reflective armor deflected and scattered the beams and bolts before they could penetrate or target a joint of a hard to see enemy, that moved impossibly fast.

A better choice would have been armor piercing or explosive slugs, but that was also a type of armor these suits had been designed to survive. The Krall had been a far more formidable foe, vastly faster, stronger, and better at direct combat than the Thandol. The Krall had inevitably fallen to the Kobani, although not as easily as these poor natural designs for a close quarters firefight.

The front ranks of the Imperial Guards died by the hundreds. Even if only part of their face, trunks, or tentacles were seen through their shield slots, they were soon wounded and made more vulnerable, and stood in the way of troopers crowded behind them.  The Thandol died outright if a plasma bolt penetrated an eye socket. Their draped armor was flimsier than hard armor, and was wrapped around legs. Anywhere a gap appeared as the Thandol moved, an energy beam found the opening. The infrared beams of the suits were invisible, but they quickly overheated shielding at the targeted point, and microwave beams could short out the electronics of the automated sighting systems of the rifles.

Several dozen Kobani were wounded, or died, more a result of misfortune than accurate fire by the Thandol, as explosive or armor penetrating slugs found joints at neck, shoulders, elbows, and knees. The selection of projectiles, which fired faster than energy beams cycled, had a limited magazine but did the greatest harm in the initial fusillade. The projectile users instantly were highlighted by the AI’s of the Kobani armor, and it was rare that more than three or four slugs were fired before the weapon was knocked out of service, or the weapon’s wielder was.

Suddenly, it was noticed that one source of coordination for the two assault groups, the one entering from the ramp around the main elevator shaft was silent, and that suit’s icon had switched from green to deep orange, bordering on red.

Greeves, leading the other team charging out of the ramp of the service elevator’s shaft, shouted on the general Comtap link

“Mirikami’s down! Who’s close to Tet? He’s been hit. Readout says suit breached at neck, nanites injected. Find him.”

There was an understandable pause in the rush out of the main shaft, to check on the sixteen Kobani that were down, of the five hundred of that group. That brief pause in their attack was seized by the Thandol who suddenly increased their rate of fire, from behind the mound of big bodies they could use as cover.

Because the Imperial Guards never envisioned such an assault inside the palace, let alone deep in its most secure bowels, they were equipped only with their multi-purpose rifles. The Kobani had reciprocated, fighting with energy beams and plasma bolts. That changed when Sarge, who had stayed with Thad’s group, pulled open a compartment on the stealthed equipment belt at his waist, and withdrew several grenades. With a mental command he selected level ten, the maximum detonation power, and a delay of two seconds, then threw them hard, landing just behind a heap of Thandol corpses and rolling under the security forces that were trying to rally.

From floor level, the three blasts were largely directed upwards, from beneath the draped body armor worn by the Thandol standing just above. The depleted uranium pellets wouldn’t have been slowed significantly by that flimsy armor anyway, since the grenades had been designed to perforate hardened Krall armor. Of the three Thandol that experienced the full effects, the pellets tore completely through the partial voids of their intestines, and ripped out through the tops and sides of their draped protection, which was designed to reflect energy beams from their outside.

The sideways directed pellets ripped into the Thandol pressed closest to their sides and rear, and brought them down when their legs were shattered under them, even as gobbets of gore splashed away from the three that were lifted by the blasts.

The three killed directly never uttered a sound, or if they did, the detonations obscured their briefly trumpeted screams. Not so, for those near them that weren’t killed instantly. It sounded like a bagpipe hard rock concert, without a semblance of a tune.

Thandol fire from that small section immediately ceased, but without a single command being needed, the other Kobani reacted in the next seconds exactly as had Sarge. The Thandol discovered in the terrible, long seconds after that, how bloody fighting humans could be, particularly the Kobani variant. Any of the Imperial Guards not in side rooms or corridors, dropped by the hundreds, the blasts and the screaming that followed, reverberating horribly to their sensitive hearing. It rivaled the sounds some of them had enjoyed when they’d killed subservient species with the agonizing Debilitater rays. Somehow, the sounds weren’t as gratifying this time.

The wave of vengeance swept through the entire upper level of the hospital, with no moving survivors, or any surrender accepted. It would have continued to the lower levels, but for a general link that halted their rampage. It was both weak, and powerful at the same time.

“Stop this slaughter. Did my orders slip from your memory matrix so swiftly? Don’t be like them.”

It was Mirikami, of course. Wounded, unable to speak from a throat injury, but his mind and Comtap intact.

“Give them a chance to surrender. Don’t risk yourself to do that, but don’t kill on my behalf, or you’ll shame me.”

Greeves interjected. “Stay still Tet. Let the nanites work. We’ll have you up in a med lab in no time.”

To the complement that had followed them down into the depths. He added. “Captain Mirikami will be fine. A slug passed through his suit helmet flex joint, and the side of his neck. It missed bone and vertebrae. He can Comtap, but not talk. Bleeding has already stopped, and nanites have started closing the wound. Continue the mission. We want the Emperor alive, and any of his noble family members that are here with him. Surround, but do not approach. Use mind Taps to locate them.”

There were no more grenade blasts, and the sounds of occasional plasma bolts receded, as the two forces moved to the lower two hospital levels.

Ethan and Carson approached Mirikami’s prone position, where Thad was kneeling beside him, holding the damaged helmet. It had a perforation in the front left of the flexible neck section.

Carson expressed both his and Ethan’s feelings. “Hey, Uncle Tet. You scared the hell out of us.”

“You forget to duck?” Ethan asked.

Mirikami, his dark eyes looking up at his young “nephews,” appreciated their concern for him. He’d worried about them often enough. Via Comtap he said, “It surprised me too, and no, I didn’t see it coming.”

Sarge’s face, helmet removed, appeared above him. “You know, I gave an arm and a leg for Koban, but I was never dumb enough to try to donate my head.”

Mirikami, a smile on his lips, Comtapped, “Thad reminded us today that its flat and hard. Easily replaced with an anvil.”

“Et tu, Brute?"

“You read Shakespeare? I mean…, you can read?” Mirikami acted surprised.

“Nah. Watched a Tri-Vid version.” He gestured at Greeves. “With a backstabbing best friend, it gave me perspective.”

“Go to Hell, Caesar.” Thad replied with a friendly grin.

Then he added, “As soon as my icon for you changes to pale amber, I’ll have a team make a litter and carry you up to the Mark, with an escort. A med lab will have you fixed up in a day or two, I’ll bet.”

“Not so fast, Thad. I’m feeling no pain, in no danger, and I intend to stay down here until we know if Farlol is here, and if there are surviving Olt’kitapi even farther down. I’d like to talk to them both.”

Holding it out, Thad showed him his misshapen helmet. “It won’t mate with your suit now, I had to damage it further to remove it fast. Your suit speaker can’t receive from your Comtap, and the AI in your helmet won’t connect for the translation.”

“Get a spare sent down from the Mark’s or Avenger’s stores. I’ll wait.” He was going to be stubborn.

With a sigh, Greeves looked up at Reynolds, and told him, “Bring me Chyou Li’s helmet. It’s the same size.”

“Why should she give hers up? I’ll wait for a spare?”

“This is faster, and less risk of an ambush for whoever brought the spare. There must be many Thandol on the levels we bypassed.” Thad seemed oddly subdued.

“I’m not taking that girls helmet away from her.”

“You aren’t.” Now his expression was grim.

With a shock Mirikami realized without his own helmet, having its AI granted Force Commander functions, he was woefully uninformed.

“Oh damn. How many did we lose Thad?”

“Nineteen dead, twenty-six wounded. None of the wounded are in critical condition, half of them able to walk and fend for themselves.”

“Chyou?”

“One of the dead. She was with my group.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m not being deliberately obtuse, but the helmet’s condition?”

“Oh. Undamaged…, and clean.” He added, understanding the concern. “Until I download the AI’s recording we won’t know exactly how it happened, but its seems obvious. An armor penetrating round caught her in the flex joint under her right armpit, and ricocheted down inside her suit. We had just started throwing grenades, and she may have been in mid throw. She died instantly, but her helmet was untouched. She’s your suit size, so it will mate.”

“I guess I was lucky the round that struck me was a through and through.”

“When you get home and face Stewart, and far worse than the President, face Maggi, you might reconsider how lucky you think you were. Neither of them wanted you leading an assault force.”

Sarge returned with the helmet, and only after it was clamshell closed over his head, mated, and sealed air tight with the suit body, did the AI asses his condition, and it accepted his Comtap identification and established his Force Commander functions. His status icon faded from amber to pale green. He was ambulatory and capable of self-defense, just not able to speak.

“Help me get up.”

He was only briefly lightheaded, as the nanites in his bloodstream and tissues adjusted his oxygenation. He had no intention of running anywhere, or of trying to turn his head in either direction. He could use his internal visor, and Comtap the AI for the view in any direction.

He took a few steps, and declared, “I’m good to go. As long as don’t turn my head.”

In afterthought, he linked to his suit’s external speaker. “How do I sound?”

“Like a tin man, of course.” Was Sarge’s own speaker issued reply.

Carson and Ethan, satisfied that Mirikami was OK, trotted away to join the Kobani searching the lower two levels. They weren’t even out of sight before a report arrived.

“Jorl and I Mind Tapped a high-ranking pair of non-uniformed security Thandol, who sent their last fifty uniformed Troopers against our far larger group as soon as we entered the main corridor. Those troopers fought to the end, despite our overwhelming numbers against their fifty, with no sign of surrender. As did the two security officers who only had hand guns, or rather trunk pistols I suppose is the more accurate term. We took them and a few of the troopers alive.

“We told them we would not harm the Emperor, and reminded them that they couldn’t stop us anyway. We said that our commander wanted to talk to him, and arrange a truce between the Empire and the Galactic Federation. Their minds tell us they think he might agree to talk, but they don’t know for certain. I let them go, and they retreated to a lavish looking area, based on the exterior décor of the walls. Perhaps to discuss our offer with the head pachyderm.”

“OK. I’m on my way down. What’s on the level below yours?”

“Apparently, they put nearly all their security on the first hospital level, after they finally understood we were crazy enough to come down here. The next level down holds more quarantined members of Farlol’s court, which consists mostly of close family members, and a couple of his second cousins from the High Command, who had the misfortune to have breakfast with his Imperial crappiness before he showed symptoms.”

Walking with more confidence, Mirikami, accompanied by Thad and Sarge, followed Carson and Ethan down the ramp to the VIP patient wards. As they approached Cal and Jorl, two Thandol cautiously peered around a side opening a hundred feet down the wide corridor from them.

Cal said, “Here come the two security officers. They were conferring with the Emperor, who was moved down here into that ward before our other two fleet contingents arrived, assuming we would bombard the palace. He’s still recovering, but from our Mind Tapping those two, we know he’s ambulatory and is starting to eat again.”

The two Thandol hesitantly moved up the corridor, looking very nervous by the twists and turns of their trunks and twitches of their tentacles. There were leather holsters on each of their front legs, for carrying some sort of medium length gun. They were empty now, and on a nearby counter top there were parts of what looked like weapons that might have fit in the holsters.

Mirikami gestured. “Those the guns you took away from them?”

“Pieces of them,” Jorl answered. “They were mid-power range laser weapons, and too low energy to damage our armor unless we stood still and let them. We ran up and took them away from both officers, to show that we could. Then we bent and twisted them by hand, breaking them into the pieces we tossed on the counter. It was a little demonstration. I think we sprained their trunks. They were expecting to be stronger than we are. Same as the two prisoners Maggi tied in knots once.”

As they approached, one of them spoke in the Thandol subservient species patois, his eyes nervously on the four newcomers standing with Cal and Jorl. The reason he was nervous was revealed by what he probably had been commanded to say to the leader of the victorious invading forces. A force that had just annihilated the portion of the Imperial Guard that opposed them.

“Which of you is the subservient Federation representative that is requesting an audience with his Imperial Majesty, Detab Romal Farlol, the eighty-fourth Emperor of the Farlol line?”

Sarge started forward, “Why you…,” but Mirikami placed a firm hand on his arm.

“Wait! He’s only trying to survive the day, and say what he was ordered to say. I’ll speak for myself.” This issued from his chest speaker in formal Thandol, and in Standard by Comtap, to the other Kobani.

Looking directly at the officer that had spoken, he continued in Thandol. “I respect your bravery, and your loyalty, in speaking words to a victorious enemy leader that you expected could lead to your instant execution.

“If I were a Thandol, obeying an absolute ruler, I might do the same in your place. But I’m not. I’m a Kobani human, and a citizen of the Galactic Federation, and as such I have no absolute ruler. No citizen of the Federation, nor of our allies, the Planetary Union, have absolute rulers than can order us to do as your Emperor just did. Our leaders cannot, and would not, order us to die just to see which words might offend an enemy and get an underling killed, as a test.

“I will be perfectly clear here. I am not requesting an audience with him, I am granting him one with me. Because he has been sick, I am providing him the courtesy of a personal visit, rather than having him suffer the indignity of being brought to me. I do not wish to end his Imperial line, or disrupt his reign. Unless he leaves me no other option than to kill him.”

Mirikami started forward, passing between the two thunderstruck officers, who were shoved bruskly aside by Thad and Sarge on either side, who on Mirikami’s Comtap signal moved in lockstep with him. Ethan, Carson, Cal and Jorl, fell in step behind.

The two Thandol nearly bleated like sheep as they pivoted to follow, but the Kobani marched swiftly to the beaded string curtain across the opening into the Emperor’s ward, and marched through.

On the other side, there was a cluster of four pale blue uniformed Thandol around one with a draped red cloak over its back, trimmed in gold, the colors that were reserved for royalty in the empire. The Emperor looked very thin, and was supported on each side by belly high padded rails, with a long soft padded narrow couch that ran under the length of the thin looking figure, who straddled the supporting couch. Side rails apparently serving the same function as bed rails in a human hospital. Farlol wasn’t completely steady on his feet yet.

The pale blue uniforms were the colors of his doctors and nurses, and as followed in a Thandol professional society, there were no females present. Not even consort females in the background. The Emperor was too weak for sexual exploits.

Farlol, perhaps expecting to be shot on the spot, rose a bit higher, locking the knees of his clearly shaky legs, and did not sway to touch the side rails at all. He was going to face his fate as a Herd Master, on his feet, head held as high as his species neck permitted.

Mirikami walked to within a Thandol body length, stopping in front of Farlol, and all seven Kobani, Mirikami centered in the front of the two files, executed a brief, but deep bow.

As Mirikami returned to vertical, concealing the painful twinge the move had cause him, said, “Your Imperial Majesty, I am Tetsuo Mirikami, and I am the Galactic Federation’s equivalent of your High Commander, and these officers with me are my staff. I hope the unfortunate events of this long day have not drained your strength excessively. My leaders, as well as I, hope that your reign over the Empire will continue for many orbits to come. Provided we can achieve a peaceful resolution of our differences.”

He’d briefed the other six, by Comtap as they marched in, on what Maggi suggested would be the appropriate protocol for them to use. Show respect, in the face of their obvious strength as the victors today, and let him know immediately that he might yet maintain his trunk-grip on the reins of his empire. Now they would learn if he retained the mental capacity to grasp what was being offered.

His obvious confusion at first appeared to argue against that, but as his two security officers rushed to his sides, to face and share with him whatever his fate would be, he seemed calmer. He must have parsed the trumpeting and bugle notes he’d heard from this alien, from which the fine nuances of the Thandol language were absent, and there were no tentacle twitches to revealy clues of the emotional content, and sincerity or the lack of that, carried by the words.

Nevertheless, the base words conveyed a hope for a path forward. A hope that he thought had expired when Trindal informed him that he was withdrawing the full fleet from Wendal, leaving the Emperor and his Imperial Guard to fend for themselves. Farlol believed now that Trindal was the leader of the coup that he’d suspected was being plotted.

Not as mentally quick as a Kobani, not by a long shot, Farlol knew down to his footpads the politics of the empire, and of how a usurper gained support for replacing an Emperor. Farlol may have been laid low by illness, and seemed weak, but he was the one who had called in all the fleets to fight this strange and relentless enemy.

The High Commander is the one who lost that battle, despite his overwhelming numerical advantage, and fled before the outcome was certain, at least as far as other noble families on other worlds would know. He had abandoned the field of combat, and from that loss, and position of weakness, he was going to claim the throne?

Farlol decided he could make the best of what was being offered, and bluff his way to an agreement. “My High Commander, Delthab Trindal, has been plotting my overthrow, wishing to replace me on the throne, and has waged a war by proxy, using our security forces to attack you, after blaming the Galactic Federation for provocations that he caused. My illness has kept me isolated, but I am recovering. His treachery and weakness will not go unnoticed by my loyal followers.  He does not have all of the fleet with him, and half will answer to me, and those commanders that are loyal to me will return to the fold.”

He suddenly seemed to recall who he was addressing, and what they wanted from this meeting. “The annexation of stars the Federation claims has hereby ended. The High Command, under Trindal’s urging, sent the independent Security forces to attack you. The High Command will be disbanded, and a new command structure, obedient to my wishes will be formed. This poorly conceived war against the Federation is over. At least for the forces I still command. I cannot control, or be held accountable for what that traitor will do. I will order my Security forces to abstain from attacks on your worlds, although, they have lost some of the restraints I have held over them. They may not obey me either.”

Mirikami, smiling behind his concealing helmet, doubting the Thandol could accurately interpret it anyway, had to ignore the bald-faced lies, double dealing, and blame shifting. Farlol would oppose Trindal, and whether it was effective or not, the resources of what would remain of the Thandol part of Empire would not be focused on the Federation for some time. Or, focused on the Planetary Union, which hit him as an afterthought.

“Your Majesty, if this is the course you intend to follow, and your future actions support that intent, then the combined fleets of our two governments will withdraw from your territory. Please note that I said combined fleets and two governments. The Galactic Federation is but one of the governments that had declared war on your Empire. The Planetary Union, independent of my government, was also attacked, and came here with me to stop the war from expanding. My government contains multiple species as citizens, but the Planetary Union contains only humans, like myself, with a vast population of potential human fighters, like those I brought here with me.”

Let them think all humans were like the Kobani. Bullshit back for bullshit received. Eventually, it would be true. If they judged by the superb performance of the PU crews in space combat, they’d only see a difference in spacecraft used. It would be apparent that the Federation had the greatest technological advantage, but the technology of the PU was better than the Empire’s. None of their ships were easily hit by Decoherence bombs, and Debilitater radiation no longer effected their soldiers and sailors. It would be assumed that their citizens would show the same physical capability and radiation resistance now.

There were some details discussed, to ensure the Emperor understood that bad treatment of their subservient species would be cause for intervention, and that his troopers were forcibly gathering them for removal from Wendal. At least those that were in the capitol city. By phrasing it as a forcible action of their loyal subjects, and not a voluntary evacuation, he hoped it would ease any retaliation.

He explained their removal this way. “Your alien allies have helped you produce war material, which you used against us. We are removing those we can find, and forcing them to return to their home worlds, with a warning to not test our patience and help with war material production. Anything your own people produce is your business, so long as you do not attack us. If any of your Security Force species attack us, we will attack them.”

Farlol continued to speak of his focus on punishing the followers of his “traitorous” former High Commander. “The loyal elements of my fleet will restore the factions of my people that have been misled, and return them to my herd. When they learn of the lies they have been told, this will unify us, and enable us to end the rebellion of those who oppose me. Only then I can prevent adventures by my Security Forces, who may think they can take advantage of the Thandol divisions.”

“I understand, your Imperial Majesty. There is but one other issue that we must address. One of our new citizen factions, the Olt’kitapi, are resuming their construction of the giant habitat they were forced to postpone when the Krall revolt spread. They need every citizen of their species to join with them in this great project. They have provided our military forces with the gravitational technology we now have. When they use the advanced portions of their technology to break apart the cores of giant worlds, which will be used as building materials, they must have every member of their reduced population to help.

“For that reason, we will transport every one of the Olt’kitapi living at level 1200 to a new home. We know they have not been well treated, therefore any resistance from you, or from any of your security people, will result in a greatly increased level of discomfort for you personally. Greater than what I caused you when I personally came here and infected you and your court with parasites.

He watched as the realization and shock registered before he continued. “Yes, that was me. I came here and did it myself, depositing the eggs in your sugar spear plots. It seemed better than killing you at the time, although I may have been wrong.”

As a demonstration of how he might have done that, he activated his suit’s stealth, and winked out of view, moved closer to Farlol, and reappeared. Startled, the emperor pulled back slightly, and his knees suddenly seemed more unsteady. His medical staff began twisting their trunks in agitation, but other than a few suppressed bagpipe-like squeaks, they remained silent.

“Knowing how willful and stubborn you can be, I am warning you in advance. It would be to your benefit, and future safety, if we are not forced to eliminate all your remaining Palace Imperial Guards in the process of evacuating the surviving Olt’kitapi. I am certain you will require their loyalty and protection as your personal guard, when you try to restore your uncontested rule over your citizens. Do you agree?”

Farlol suddenly settled to his couch as his legs lost the locked-knee stiffness that had held him defiantly upright, in the face of this casually powerful enemy. An alien who knew more of the Empire’s secrets than most of its citizens.

Mirikami was insistent. “I asked if you agree. I require an acknowledgement from you, so that if I ever find it necessary to speak to you in person again, that you will understand that something extremely unpleasant will happen to you, and why.”

He found his voice, and bleated, “I agree. I will order the guards at lower levels to immediately withdraw from level 1200, and to remain clear of the lift shafts and ramps when your troopers pass.”

There wasn’t much of a force assigned to watch the remnants of the insect race anyway, and none of those were of his most elite troopers. However, he’d just been told that most of his elite forces were dead. Wiped out in a bloody slaughter by these efficient and unstoppable killers. Something that this insolent and dangerous alien had just reminded him about. He’d need every trooper he could find on the planet.

“Excellent, your Majesty. I was told that my soldiers have found wheeled transportation in two side corridors, which will fit on the ramps. We will use those to carry the Olt’kitapi up, and when we finish with them, we will leave them for your personal use.

“We hope to depart Wendal before nightfall touches your palace. I’m certain that will please you.”

This frightening little alien had a knack for understatement.

Chapter 12: Intimidation Diplomacy

Mirikami was describing the rescued Olt’kitapi to Stewart and a half dozen council members on Haven. “Those pitiful looking creatures, undersized from insufficient food, many with limbs missing, and burns on their thorax or abdomen, were astoundingly resilient, and quick to grasp who we were, and why we were there. Their minds are as sharp as those Olt’kitapi we met on Canji Dol, yet they had never received any training from the living ships that saved them from the Krall revolt.

“The AI’s on their four ships, with no living adults to guide them, were of course trying to escape the Krall, and took the juveniles to the home of a previously friendly species in the Empire called the Jandal, which the Olt’kitapi had previously visited. I understand they’re a large flightless bird-like species with fuzzy short feathers, who at the time the four ships arrived, were still recovering from a series of punishment raids on their home world and on their one colony by the Finth. This punishment was ordered by the Thandol, because the Jandal had violated trade restrictions by dealing with several neighboring species without permission.

“They knew they were under close surveillance, and assumed the arrival of four T-cubed traveling Olt’kitapi ships had been detected. They promptly contacted the commander of a Finth squadron, which roamed randomly between the Jandal planets, watching for continued trade violations, and collecting increased taxes. The Finth, without coordinating with the Thandol High Command, destroyed the four orbiting ships of a species they knew the Thandol considered a potential enemy, and were in Empire territory.

“The juveniles had already been transported down to the Jandal’s planet, and when a Thandol Crusher arrived, summoned by the Finth, they were taken away, and the Jandal never knew what happened to them.”

Chrysant, a Torki Council member asked, “You said you recovered nearly two thousand of them, how many had there been before the Thandol killed and tortured them, to try to make them publicly offer their former planets in the Orion Spur to the Emperor?”

“That was hard to learn at first. To us, they could only speak a difficult to comprehend form of pidgin Thandol, which their mouth parts could not easily reproduce, and of course they had no mind enhancers to link with. However, in the Thandol number system, and by use of the Thandol phonetic written script, they said they once numbered in the range of just over ten thousand.

“Secretly, between themselves, they had long ago invented a private language, based around a limited vocabulary of original Olt’kitapi words that were carried over from the earliest juvenile survivors. When we provided them with an aural database of Olt’kitapi words, with a Thandol translation of their meanings, they were eager to learn and were fast to acquire the new vocabulary. I think they have an equivalent to our memory matrix in those triangular heads. When we delivered them to Egg, after three days of practice using our Olt’kitapi database, they had a basic vocabulary to use to speak to their distant cousins.

“I wondered how they had proven so resistant to Thandol physical pressure to do what the Emperor demanded of them. Prola and Frithda explained that Olt’kitapi have an ability to isolate their minds and brains from physical injuries and associated pain. Oddly, they say it was a characteristic that the Krall admired and wanted to breed into themselves, because it seemed a good trait to have for a warrior suffering injuries in combat. This ability was how they didn’t merely endure Thandol torture, they ignored it entirely.”

Stewart asked, “Are they blending in with the other Olt’kitapi?”

“Completely. They eagerly want to receive mind enhancers to recover and explore their racial history. First, they’ll have their bodies restored in the med labs we provided to the Olt’kitapi, which they redesigned for their insect bodies. We taught them how to reprogram our nanites for their own use. They say they can heal the burns, regenerate amputated limbs, and regrow destroyed eyes after excising the damage. They want the new members of their population to have the honor of participating in the building of Excelsior.”

Chrysant was interested in that project. “They’re ready to begin?”

“Yes. Prola says they modified some of their fabrication machines they used on Canji Dol, which work like those in the factories their ancestors designed, and which the Prada learned to operate to earn their right to survive under Krall rule. These are programable 3-D printing systems, like we use in our orbital factories, but theirs employ their advanced materials science, to integrate quantum effects in the products, like the stealth coatings we now use and understand, and the flowing hulls of our Scouts and Mark IIs.

“They reproduced the large printer units they needed, all since we broke up the Empire. Those printers have been mass producing the parts needed to assemble another type of ship which the Krall destroyed. These might be called, if we name them like we did Dismantlers and Differentiators by function, something like Fabricators or Constructors. They’ll receive various purified molten alloy materials from the planetary cores, provided by the Differentiators, and then print out enormous panels of pieces that will form the millions of sections that will be used to construct a hollow habitat shell larger than Mars. There will eventually be thousands of such shells orbiting that small red star.

“Each finished panel has trap field emitters built-in, for tachyon powered Normal Space drives to move them around, and artificial gravity that allows both sides of each panel to have a down direction with an adjustable force of gravity. These panel are, I’m told, rectangular pieces over a mile on a side, with a slight curve of a final sphere of radius roughly three thousand five hundred miles. The panels will internally hold circuitry and plumbing, power generation sections, and recycling units for the habitat. It’s incredibly complex.

“Before assembly, the overall design of a shell is usually decided, with Olt’kitapi providing guidance and advice, so there can be low places for seas, elevated sections for land masses, peaks for mountains, channels for winding rivers, adjustable gravity levels for the appropriate species, and so on. A late-to-be-invited species can start with a generic completed shell, and design changes, swap out sections, or modify them to meet their likes and needs as it’s altered.

“In later stages of construction, new tool ships that specialize in performing organic and inorganic chemistry, which will isolate and deliver the water, soils, and atmosphere, to be manufactured from the various elements salvaged and separated from the super Jovians. I assume, once a habitable shell is created, the process of establishing a living environment and biosphere is started on the outside. The inner side of the shell is also expected to be habitable, but that’s also where manufacturing, industry, and recycling happen I understand. I don’t really know, since this is so different from the varied use we make of the single surface of a planet we have available for use now. There won’t be any mining, or mineral and resource extraction, of course, but there is expected to be plenty of leftover material from the Jovians that can be stored in the outer system for later communal use. I’ll leave it to the planetary science geniuses to figure that out.

“All I want is a spaceport to land my ship, and a comfortable home with a nice view of the landscape, and to see the night sky when I’m not in space.” He smiled. “I don’t intend giving up being a Spacer just to raise orchids.”

Stewart asked, “When do they break ground, or break planet, in this case?”

“In nine days. They invited observers for the first dismantling, and Maggi and I are going. Why not requisition a ship and watch for yourself? It should be impressive.”

“You’re the Spacer. Can’t I go with you?”

“If you can be gone that long. We’re recording the event, then Jumping to the fragmented sections of the Empire to deliver personal copies to the Ragnar, Finth, Thack Delos, and specifically to the two feuding Thandol factions. You want to be gone that long? I’m taking five hundred ships, in case things get contentious.”

“Oh. Never mind, I’ll find a pilot and go in a scout. Why do you think anyone in the Empire wants to see the Olt’kitapi start building their habitats?”

“That isn’t my purpose, and I won’t tell them that it’s the Olt’kitapi building project. It will be filmed with several Mark IIs in the foreground, and when the giant planet starts to fragment, I’ll cut away to a rather pointed discussion about advanced gravity control, and mention that any planet, large or small, can be broken apart the same way. I think they’ll get the point, and leave us alone.”

“But the elevated species, at least their monitors, won’t permit us to employ that type of gravity use, to attack inhabited planets. Plus, we don’t know how, and I think it’s immoral anyway.”

“That’s all true, and I agree with you. However, I don’t recall any of the Empire species being invited to that meeting on Egg with The Silha, and I certainly didn’t tell them what we were told. Did you?” He grinned.

“You’ll lie to them?”

“I’m shocked that you’d think I wouldn’t.  Of course, I will. The Silha didn’t say our lying about having that level of gravity control was forbidden. We know we don’t, the Silha know, and the Olt’kitapi know, that we currently can’t break apart a planet, but we have clearly demonstrated a level of gravity control technology that our enemies don’t have. The Thack Delos experienced the only large scale damage we could produce with our current level of gravity control, which involved provoking stellar flares, which is far milder than a planetary breakup. We are not allowed to repeat that action either, of course. But our enemies don’t know that. This is a bit like that big poker pot I took from you two nights ago.”

“When you went All In? Were you being a sneaky rat?”

“A sneaky bluffing rat. But I don't always bluff, you know. That two pair I never needed to show you could have been a full house.”

“I’ll test you, the next time I have a straight.”

“That could just cost you more credits, but I don’t think our opponents can risk their home planets to call this bluff.”

****

Mirikami had repeatedly watched the images of the planets the Krall had torn apart, at Meadow and Bootstrap. Thor, at Meadow, was seven times the mass of Jupiter, and Melnor was a smaller Neptunian sized ice giant world in the Bootstrap system. The Krall were uninterested in gathering the fragments for use, and had caused the cores to explode far more violently than required to merely exceed gravitational escape velocity of the pieces. They had wanted huge, fast moving shrapnel to hit the populated planets.

When the Olt’kitapi mentioned that what the Krall had done was wasteful for proper retention of construction material, Mirikami asked, “How will this be different? You are still blowing up the core of planets. Why not get the most material available at the outset, and start with Egg Mother, which is the largest planet?”

Frithda told him, “Friend Tet, we want a more controllable breakup than the destruction the Krall desired, and we have not built as many tool ships as we need yet. We have a selection of five giant planets to choose from in the Excelsior system. Egg Mother, which based on human standards of your home star, is ten times Jupiter’s mass. That is a great deal of material, as you said, but we are not prepared to process that much at one time yet.

“Besides, our base planet for our population is Egg, the only habitable world at Excelsior, and it’s a satellite of that largest gas giant. We don’t want to disturb that arrangement yet. There are two other giant planets closer to our M type dwarf star, and two farther out than Egg Mother. From the problem of gravitational dynamics, our moving the pieces to where we want them, the two inner planets will be easier to manage.”

A two Jovian mass planet was the closest to the star, and outside of its orbit was a Uranus massed world, of about fifteen times the mass of Earth. In the Sol system, the namesake comparison planet was a cold ice giant, but in this system, the icy world had migrated inward long ago from the cold regions where it had formed, in a cosmic billiards game between the larger gas giants. When the chaotic early solar system formation settled down, there was only one surviving terrestrial sized rocky world, and it was what the Olt’kitapi had named Egg, long ago captured by the gigantic Egg Mother. It now was classified as a planetoon by human astronomers, a life bearing and habitable satellite, and it even had its own small moon, termed a moony.

After a few billion years of greater warmth in its eight-day orbit, the now inner system ice giant’s icy composition had sublimated to gases, and its atmosphere was bloated, with a diameter of nearly thirty-eight thousand miles, making it look significantly larger than the Sol system Uranus, although with a similar mass of about fifteen times that of Earth. It had a relatively small rocky core, perhaps three or four times that of Earth, so it would produce less metals and silicates for construction.

Frithda explained all this patiently to Mirikami, and Maggi. “It is the number two planet we have selected for our first disassembly. We acknowledge that this easier choice is a result of caution, for our first attempt to break apart a large world, and because we do not yet have the number of tool ships available to process the more massive inner-most Jovian world, which has twice the mass of your Jupiter.”

Their goal was to generate just enough disruptive force to explode the planet’s core and spread the fragments barely faster than the escape velocity that would allow them to quickly recoalesce. They were using two Dismantlers, to employ a more controlled dual core explosion method, both blasts slightly off center from the middle, to control the direction of the debris when the newly created antimatter pockets were rotated from Tachyon Space back into Normal Space, to trigger the blasts.

Maggi asked, “What was wrong with a single explosion at the center, but less powerful than the Krall used?”

“Friend Maggi, the Krall method of a single core detonation was ineffective, even if done less forcefully, because it produces ejecta moving in all directions, which leave the original orbit and will pass through the entire system. We wish to produce an asymmetrical breakup, creating what one of your scientists, Max Born, called “string of pearls” effect. With material staying closer to the original planet’s orbit, with some clumps moving ahead, some falling behind, but remaining close to the original orbital radius, and closer to the plane of the rest of the solar system.

“Before their mutual gravity can pull them back together, we will capture and differentiate the materials, and form them into many spherical moon sized pods, held within stasis fields to maintain their molten state for metals and silicates. We will also collect gaseous clumps, and all will be towed ahead or behind in their present orbital plane, to form a relatively short-term stable ring of “beads” within the plane of the planetary system.

“The habitat shells, when their basic construction is finished, will be moved to orbit in a polar path around the star, flown there by their own tachyon powered Normal Space drives. We will gently readjust them over time to keep them in that orbit, as final finishing work is accomplished on them.”

“How long does it take to produce enough plates to assemble a basic habitat shell?”

“This was never done by our ancestors, but we estimate that an empty habitat shell can be formed in about four hundred orbits after we have all the tool ships we need, with several shells being assembled in a staggered and sequential fashion, but being constructed continuously and simultaneously. The full process, to use all the material available in this system, will likely require at least a thousand Earth years to complete, but parts of shells could become habitable in select living sections, under domes initially, in four hundred eighty orbits.”

Mirikami was a bit disappointed. “Four hundred eighty years? I’d hoped it would be sooner.”

“Friend Tet, you are confusing our terms of orbits and years of two different planetary systems. Your species standard year is one orbit of Earth around your sun. Your sun is much larger and hotter that the Excelsior star, and Earth’s orbit is therefore wider, to fall within the habitable zone. Here, we could artificially maintain our own habitability temperatures of the outside of our shells at any orbit, but we have selected an orbit that is habitable without a great amount of energy supplementation. That is an orbit where an Excelsior year on a single shell will be nearly fourteen of your standard days. Our habitats will be much closer to this cool small star, and their individual rotations can be adjusted for the preferred day-night cycle of the occupants. It is only the local year we select for you, of roughly two weeks. That is the four hundred eighty orbits we estimate.”

Taken aback, Mirikami did a quick mental calculation. “Then four hundred eighty Excelsior orbits is close to six thousand seven hundred twenty Earth days. That’s just over eighteen years before move-in-day.”

“Friend Tet, there will be many more orbits to complete the transformation of the entire shell surface into a living world. Having a self-sustaining and recycling atmosphere, forming, and laying down a fertile soil composition from materials stored in orbital pods, filling oceans, and rivers, establishing a full biosphere, placing recycling machinery on the inside for keeping the outside pristine, and the orbits to achieve a thriving and balanced ecology. That could take a hundred years or more, and require innumerable adjustments.”

Mirikami imitated an Olt’kitapi chitter of a laugh. “Friend Frithda, Kobani have indefinite life spans. We have the time.”

“Are you saying that humanity will wish to possess a habitat in the Excelsior system?”

“I am certain there will certainly be many humans that will what that, if you invite them. If we can set local gravity to suit a Kobani body, and transplant Koban flora, then some Kobani would wish to come. There may be humans that reject our Kobani modifications, but if invited to build a world suited for normal humans from scratch, there will be takers. Humans have been modifying worlds they found to suit our needs for over five hundred years, and the first settlers did not live to see the work finished. Not all will want such a controlled life, but some will. Are they welcome?”

“Yes. All species will be welcome, if they come peacefully. We would welcome Kobani, because we know you can keep the peace on what may become tens of thousands of neighboring habitats, of many thousands of species. We believe your stated good intentions, and trust the Jing|!| and Silha to monitor a star system where so many species might live together. A place like Excelsior can advance more different species closer to eventual elevation, who can join with them long before the Universe has spread to become so empty.”

Maggi, being diplomatic asked, “Is it acceptable for us to record the breakup of the planet when you start?”

“Yes. Documenting the proper use of gravity control to enhance various species ability to live and work together, rather than for destruction, is advantageous. There is so much room for all of us, that it is pointless and wasteful to fight for territory.”

“You are an older species than humanity, and I think you were always more peaceful. Us younger species still like to discover and explore the unknown, and face up to the bullies of the Universe, and defend those that can’t protect themselves. When we leave here this week, we intend to visit the squabbling factions within the former Empire. We are not planning any conquests, but if the stronger dominate species become too violent and domineering with the peoples they will try to rule, we may have something to say about that. We will accept new members to the Galactic Federation, if that proves to be practical and feasible, on a case by case situation.”

Showing his insight into the real reason for her request, and a grasp of the psychology of this young and brash species, Frithda said, “The recording of a planet being broken apart could appear quite intimidating, particularly to species that haven’t learned even the fundamentals of gravity control.”

Tet grinned, “We can’t use our technology that way, even if we knew how, and not after we do learn how.”

“I suppose, friend Tet, the ignorance of some Empire species about why that is true, doesn’t need to be explained to them before they learn how to peacefully cooperate with other races.” Frithda ended with a chitter.

****

A mixed fleet of five hundred unstealthed Mark II’s, clanships, and Scouts, suddenly appeared far above High City, on Tantor. A broadcast started with, “Former Force Commander Gimtal Thond, this is Captain Mirikami of the Federation. We know the Thandol High Command sent you home. We are here for a peaceful discussion, not to fight. In fact, I believe you owe us a debt of gratitude.” It was nearly ten minutes before there was a reply.

It was Thond’s voice. “Captain Mirikami, you have damaged our fleet multiple times, and our ground forces at one meeting, and injured our pride when your team visited here while I was absent. Why do we owe you any thanks?”

“Because as promised, the Thandol fleet has been weakened by us, and now what remains of it is too preoccupied to worry about you, or their other former two Security forces. Note that I said former Security forces. I assume you will want to take advantage of your freedom.”

Thond proved he was aware of distant events. “We know you led three combined fleets to attack Wendal, and that much of the Thandol fleet was recalled there to intercept you. You must have also been weakened in that battle. Our remote observers say the Thandol fleet suddenly withdrew, with a tachyon trace heading towards the central core of the original Thandol colonies, and their home world.

“After that, three thousand reserve ships that had moved to a point just inside our Sector departed, which we were watching closely in the event they turned on us. We know they went to Wendal. In what way was the Thandol weakened, if they still have two or three massive fleets?”

“Thond, there was also a three thousand ship reserve in Sector three, and it joined with the reserves from your sector. Both of those are still at Wendal. The main fleet was barely larger than those two reserve components when it departed Wendal.”

“That sounds like a lie. Why would the reserves go to Wendal if the main fleet fled from there? They would all gather to protect the Emperor.”

“The reserves did exactly that. They are still protecting Farlol the 84th on Wendal.”

“Then why did the main fleet leave?”

“To obey and protect a new Emperor.”

“Your lies grow more improbable. A new Emperor always kills his predecessor. The new Emperor would have evacuated with the main fleet, and with the reserves, leaving the old Emperor and his court dead on Wendal.”

“Then why did the reserves go to Wendal, and stay if there was no Emperor there? Besides, I saw and spoke to Farlol the 84th on Wendal, after the main fleet left and before the reserves arrived.”

“Then you would have left him dead on Wendal.”

“Why would I do that?”

“What? Should I accept that ridiculous claim? That you would leave the defenseless current Emperor alive, after he sent fleets to attack your worlds and kill your people?”

“I did do that. Why else do you think the reserve ships went to Wendal, after we departed? Farlol called those loyal forces to him, when they realized he still lived.”

“Why would you have left him alive? Please explain that.”

“To start a civil war with High Commander Trindal, who left with the main fleet, and by now will surely have declared himself the new Emperor, with some impressive family name and number.”

“The High Commander, if what you say is true, would become Emperor Delthab Trindal the 21st, of the Trindal noble line. What treacherous mind could conceive of such a bizarre plot to split the throne, and understand the Thandol well enough to make it happen?”

Maggi, monitoring the link, interjected. “Why thank you Force Commander Thond. It indeed was the result of a treacherous plot of mine. Although, I did not know that my planted false rumors of a coup, and the intestinal parasites my mate and I gave to Farlol, via his personal sugar spear browsing plots, would lead to this exact result.”

Thond paused a moment to consider, then said. “The Krall’tapi named Deldra was right about you. On Tanner’s World, at our truce meeting, he told Commander Hitok that you were dangerous, that he would never pit himself against you in a fight. We thought he meant physically, even though you are so small. He surely meant your devious mind.”

Mirikami laughed aloud, to give his wife a reason to hesitate before making an incendiary, distinctly non-diplomatic reply. “Thond, she definitely can kick any Krall’tapi’s ass, and probably that of any Ragnar she met in unarmed combat. But there is no doubt that her mind is the most dangerous weapon in her arsenal.” Some of her friends would have said her tongue and wit, but not where the Tiger Lady could hear.

Thond, never a diplomat, was blunt in his manner, and suspicious. “Why are you here now, with five hundred ships? You proposed that we join you and revolt against the Thandol if their fleets were weakened militarily. We did not join with you, and our involvement appears to be unnecessary now, because they have withdrawn from all but part of Security sector two, where all the worlds they have settled reside. I doubt if the Finth, after the beating you gave their fleet, are strong enough to revolt against either of the Thandol factions in their Sector. Even if the Thandol are indeed split in a pending civil war, either one of the two individual factions sound as if they are strong enough to defeat them in an attack.”

“I’m sure you know that if either Thandol faction engaged in such attacks on the Finth, or on you for that matter, they could not escape unscathed, thus weakening them in their ability to oppose the other political faction. The Empire’s former security forces have a once in twenty-thousand-years opportunity to exercise independence. To remain free of Thandol dominance forever.

“The Federation, and Planetary Union, without the cooperation of any of the Empire’s Security forces, have made this possible. We not only did not have your overt cooperation, we experienced attacks from all three of the Security forces, leading up to this state of affairs.

“Accordingly, our promise to support any of you if you joined with us is now void. We have no obligation to come to your aid if you are attacked by the Thandol, and certainly not if attacked by one of the other former security forces. What we do feel obligated to do, is to ensure none of the security forces wage war on any of the previously subservient species. We intend to furnish them all with long-range instantaneous communications with us, to notify us if they are attacked. We will trade with them, buy their goods, and sell them the technology to build their own T-cubed ships, to improve their ability to trade with other worlds.

“You can also trade with them, and now you can colonize other uninhabited and unclaimed worlds, but so can they. If they want to ally with you and pay taxes to you for defending them from other species, that is their choice. If there are disputes between you, we may be asked to intercede as mediators, with no prejudice for either side’s claim.

“If war breaks out against any of the former subservient species, and if any of the security forces, or the Thandol, are the perpetrators, then the Federation will intercede. I can’t speak for the Planetary Union, but they have said they are also interested in finding trading partners in the Empire, and might decide to protect their business interests.”

“Mirikami, even your combined forces were smaller than the Thandol fleet at Wendal. If you confront us, I don't think you can be certain the PU will join you. They have not always done so, even when it was one of their worlds being attacked.” He was apparently referring to the Federation’s solo defense of Tanner’s World when the Ragnar tried to invade.

“We don’t always need them, because the Federation has a technological advantage the PU does not possess. We have achieved control of long-range gravitational effects, as the Thandol discovered to their detriment at Wendal, when we used black holes to destroy ships. We used another method to selectively destroy most of their ships equipped with Decoherence launchers. Our gravity technology uses the unlimited energy of Tachyon Space to employ this control. Believe me, it is possible to use that technology on a scale you do not want to experience. Humanity experienced this in two inhabited systems in our fight with the Krall, who had stolen a technology that they did not understand.

“As a demonstration of what that technology can do, I have just started transmitting a recording to you, using frequencies we learned were public communications channels on our last visit. This data is in a format you can easily view.”

“Are you threatening us?”

“Are you attacking us?” He let the obvious implication sink in.

“We would prefer to establish a peaceful relationship with the Ragnar, and eventually conduct trade with you. However, there are technologies we will not share with anyone. In your case, you have used borrowed Thandol technology to suppress your neighbors, who were limited in their ability to defend themselves. We Kobani are now immune to Debilitater radiation, but other species can’t easily acquire that protection. That is a cruel weapon, and we will not tolerate it being used on helpless civilian populations. We will promptly respond to its use, against whoever employs it, wherever it happens.”

“What do you think you are? The galactic protectors?”

“We can’t defend every species everywhere in the Milky Way. Although, it isn’t a bad thing to aspire to do. Some of my people want to do exactly that, although being a police force is not for everyone.”

“Presumptuous people, aren’t you?”

“We’ve heard that often, and the answer is yes! Get over it.”

“Why did you bring so many ships for this pleasant visit? They are not enough to intimidate us, you know.”

“I initially faced the entire Thandol main fleet with only four hundred thirty-nine ships, for a significant time, and that small group destroyed thousands of their ships, including the remainder of their Crushers, before our other two fleet elements joined with us. If you had remote observers as you claimed, then you already know that, so don't pretend you are unaware. Sheer numbers are not the only measure of strength. Haven’t you learned that yet after facing us?”

“They are lessons we are assimilating. We will not make the same mistakes again.”

“And we will save our new surprises for when you think you have learned those first lessons. We brought enough strength to force you to listen long enough, if you proved intractable. You are smarter than the Finth, and more reasonable.

“We will visit the Finth next, and then the Thack Delos. We are not certain if their home world, Dolbor Gen Delos, has recovered fully from our harshest lesson yet, but we sent only ten Scouts there. We ravaged the entire planet, and their power grid, with a rash of solar flares. They may still be analyzing the profit margins of negotiating with us in bad faith when we return.”

“You used solar radiation against them? Radiation is their favored weapon against others. They live with that their entire lives.”

“Yes, we know. But they have never experienced the intensity of solar flares we sent at them, which we made certain penetrated past their planetary magnetic field. We fried their electrical power grids over most of the planet. I think they will be inclined to listen to us this time, to avoid a repeat of that poor negotiation. The Finth are another matter. I haven’t decided how to approach them.”

“They are sensitive, excessively proud, and arrogant.”

“Yes. Completely unlike you Ragnar.” The sarcasm was wasted, of course.

“Indeed.”

“Well Thond, it’s now time for us to depart, leaving you humble philosophers to pursue those deep and introspective thoughts we’ve provided for you. We will be watching you.”

Somehow, this visit made him feel like a junior version of The Silha monitor.

****

The three drones, broadcasting on three different powerful signals, overrode the governmental public broadcasting of three popular Finth programs. At least two of them were popular. One was important, but dull and bureaucratic.

There was the exciting and competitive pack hunt, recorded at a large game preserve on the colony of Den 3. Another channel carried a match between two unarmed combat experts, both from Alpha pack, to determine an undisputed Den Home Alpha champion, to face champions from other packs.

The third channel carried a sort of public service message, a governmental broadcast of a budgetary presentation to the Pack Arbitrators, by the Dominate One, Fissloss Slassler. He proposed for them to retain, and increase all taxes formerly collected on behalf of the Thandol, and use them to pay for repairs to the immense Pack Command building, and for construction of replacement Eaters and Carnivores for a greatly expanded fleet.

He was also asking for funds for research into improved sensors, better stealth systems, and more powerful weapons, which the Thandol High Command inspectors had always prevented their Security forces from developing. They had long possessed secret designs, but had never risked development of them for fear of the promised severe and ruthless punitive attacks, if the Thandol discovered them.

The snarls and hisses of outrage of watchers of the first two channels was heard all around Den Home, with relatively little consternation at the interruption of the budget discussion, since only pack leaders, and corporate leaders interested in receiving contracts for the work were likely watching.

The images presented were of obvious Federation designed spacecraft, floating in space and in the foreground of an obviously large bloated planet. The latter suddenly started disintegrating, in seemingly slow motion because of the scale of the event and distance. This image quickly garnered intense interest, because the ship type shapes were well known, and had been proven to have advanced gravity controlled weapons.

Another perspective, from nearer the dying planet, showed glowing rocky fragments, both large and small, tearing through the bluish gray and expanding atmosphere, and spreading apart against the backdrop of a nearby red dwarf star. The shapes of the Federation ships, accompanied by several smaller versions, and several clanships seen nearby, provided perspective, proving the ovoid Federation ships were far larger versions of those Scouts that had landed within the Pack Command hunting preserve.

The general population was unaware of the details of the types of damage done to the combined pack fleet ships. However, those that went on that aborted mission knew that they had been attacked by more than conventional weapons.  Particularly the Sky Hunters of Alpha pack, the Stalkers of Sissbalt, who suffered the brunt of the new weaponry while leading the attack. There also were Delta pack’s Tribalt Hunters who had experienced those weapons from their location at the rear of the hierarchy sorted fleet, reformed just before the attack on the Prada planet. When the ambushed Finth fleet had all Jumped towards One land, the small Scouts that first ambushed them had followed, and attacked the rear most Finth ships with the same gravity controlled black hole weapons.

It was now well known that advanced gravity control was needed to form weaponized small black holes, which were somehow guided into the Finth ships. Seeing larger versions of those type of ships, with a planet breaking apart behind them, there was an obvious inference made. The Federation could destroy entire planets. Giant ones. Obviously, smaller rocky and inhabited planets would be easier to destroy.

The broadcasts continued for only two repetitions on the three channels, and then the three small ships that were sources of the transmissions went into stealth mode and Jumped, long before several searching warships arrived where they had been poised around Home Den. A full cycle passed for the discussion to spread throughout the Finth pack leaders, and every pack member became aware of what had happened during the previous fleet action, and how that fleet damage matched with the destruction suffered at Den Home and their colony worlds. The Federation was back, and had just advertised what sort of damage they could do if properly motivated.

They weren’t left hanging in suspense very long. A cycle later the three drones returned, in new locations, and someone spoke to them in oddly stilted Slithan, but it was comprehensible.

“I am Captain Mirikami, of the Galactic Federation. When I sent representatives here previously to talk to you peacefully, you were uninterested, and hostile. This time I brought many hammers with me, like those ships you saw in the broadcasts a cycle ago, to get your attention if necessary, and to encourage you to show greater interest in preserving your civilization.

“Excuse the poor translation into Slithan, the data base is new to our translation software, and we will improve it over time. We thought it improper to try to speak to you in the version of Thandol used for weak and subservient species, which was all we had available for our prior visit. We acknowledge that you have earned our respect, more than any Thandol Emperor has ever granted to you.

“Now that we have removed the worst of the threats the Thandol held against the throats of your families and dens, you are free to expand to new worlds, to build colonies again. Your neighbors, the former subservient species, now have that same freedom. You do not have the freedom to make them pay for your expansion. This is the same message we have delivered to the Ragnar, and will deliver to the Thack Delos next.

“The Thandol now are split into two factions, and civil war will soon start, with two Emperor’s sitting on two thrones. It is advisable for you to not provide them reason to reunite their two fleets to confront you over your new-found freedom. It is even more advisable that you not provoke us, the ones who weakened the Thandol to make this freedom possible. We are not here to replace them, but we will not allow any of their former Security forces to do that either. The Empire will remain divided.”

From that point on, broadcasting in the blind, he knew he had their diligent attention because they had not sent warships to seek them in an aggressive manner. Watching an obvious giant planet fragment with the shapes of Federation ships in the foreground, made them perfectly aware that they had witnessed a greater mastery of gravitation than anyone in the Empire possessed. This had a subduing effect on the normal Finth instinctive aggression.

Fissloss Slassler, the Dominant One, and the other Alpha Pack leaders, had also just experienced the shift from aggressive predators to den guardians, in the face of a vastly stronger pack. Den Home, and all four of their colonies had been attacked by the Federation when the Sky Hunters were away, and the fleet had returned after suffering significant losses.

This powerful enemy had hit each one of their worlds with impunity, and had inflected considerable damage. In addition, they had delivered the same sort of damage to the Thandol and Ragnar, and it was suspected they had driven off an attack by the Thack Delos. Something that never happened, once the profit driven species had carefully studied a proposal, and reached an agreement for payment. They were tenacious and stubborn.

Mirikami repeated much of what he’d told the Ragnar, with the same restrictions on attacking their neighbors, who would have the means to contact the Federation instantly. He emphasized the advantages of trade, and cooperation, and the disadvantages if they became severely weakened militarily.

He didn’t directly threaten that the Federation would attack them, to produce that weakening, or destroy any of their worlds. However, he implied that if they did grow weak from fighting a superior force, they would place themselves at risk of Thandol servitude once again. He hoped his point was made, but inwardly, he suspected that there would need to be other painful lessons. The Finth would not willingly cease preying on their weaker neighbors.

Mirikami departed Den Home with the same admonition as he’d left with the Ragnar. “We will be watching you.”

He wondered if he’d have to pay royalties to The Silha if he kept saying that, or be accused of copyright infringement.

****

Sarge, on the Sneaky Bastard, traveling with the modest Kobani task force towards the Thack Delos system, wanted to know how Mirikami intended to engage them. “Tet, are you going to call them to talk, like you did the Ragnar, or just start sending the video like with the Finth?”

“Neither of those. They refused to talk to Howard or Foxworthy at New Glasgow, and never talked to Athena when her Scout squadron was here. I don’t think they’ll talk to us now either. Of course, we had to use the Thandol subservient species language those times, but that’s how the Thandol always communicated with them. They obviously understand it, and they often use that to communicate with other species they taxed and traded with. Per the Thandol prisoners we released, the TD are said to have data bases of other species languages, which they don’t always use, if they elect to use Thandol. However, it doesn’t appear that they have shared their own language with others, not even the Thandol.

I’ll eventually play our video for them in some format, but Athena couldn’t determine for certain what their video broadcast format was, since her AI never found any that were equivalent to Tri-Vid, or some other video entertainment transmissions. There were plenty of telemetry and radio transmissions, and even some security camera type images, which might suggest that any video entertainment format would be close to that one.”

Thad was linked in from the Ripper. “If you won’t call them, or play the video, how are you going to get their attention?”

“They killed nearly nine million people on New Glasgow, and never talked to anyone. We’ve tried talking, and were ignored. We may have killed tens of thousands of them outright from Athena’s attack here, but not a peep heard from them. They appear to only have profit and loss interests in dealing with other species. Five rebellious Empire species suffered the loss of an entire colony planet to the TD, via the same sort of nuclear bombardment they used on New Glasgow. Those are five of the seven colonies they now possess. I plan to deliver business losses to them that they can’t ignore. I predict they’ll call us when they feel ready.”

“What sort of business loss?”

“I had Athena return to reconnoiter the Delos system last week. They apparently brought their entire fleet home to this system. A quarter of the fleet is in orbit around the third planet from the central binary stars, named Dolbor Ver Delos, which was their first colony planet. Let’s call it Ver, and the reason for using the middle name will become obvious in a second.

“Another quarter of the fleet is orbiting the home world, Dolbor Gen Delos, which we’ll call Gen. They named the planets sort of like family members, and only the middle names are unique.”

Sarge offered his deeply considered opinion. “That’s cumbersome and stupid.”

“They’re aliens. They might think one name, like Poldark, is stupid.” Mirikami offered as his elegant explanation.

“Anyway, half of their fleet is on the surface of Gen. It appears that because Athena’s squad wiped out their orbital repair facilities, and the CME from the flares she triggered knocked out the power systems on the moon bases, they’re performing repairs ground side.

“It also appears they are busy building new ships to replace losses suffered at New Glasgow. There are several dozen keels of new Exterminators, their heavy cruiser class, being laid at five ship yards. I think they intend to take advantage of the weakened state of the Thandol to take full control of the sector they have patrolled for so long.”

“Ah ha,” Thad said in understanding. “Their upcoming profit losses are ships in orbit, and sitting on the ground.”

“You got it! I don't have the stomach to kill nine million of their civilians, as they did on New Glasgow. Although, if severely damaging their fleet fails to cure their avarice, I will return and endure that intestinal discomfort before I let them murder their neighbors, or attack our worlds with nukes again.”

“How will we do this?” Thad asked.

“Sarge will take two hundred clanships and fifty Scouts to Ver, spread out, and wait for the signal to start shooting. Thad, you will have the other hundred fifty clanships and fifty Scouts, to take on what is in orbit here at Gen. I’ll command the fifty Mark IIs, to use our larger gravity projectors to take out ships on the ground, and then destroy the ship yards. My targets are parked, so are easier targets, and I’ll have more time to take them out with just fifty ships.

“I’m sure the ships in orbit will fight back, and micro Jump. Those on the ground will attempt to launch, and fight as soon as they can crew them. Those in orbit may even try their radiation shield method to hide inside, using small nukes. Stay clear of that, and pound them from a distance. I don’t know if they’ll call to negotiate with us or not. If not, they’ll lose most of their fleet, or will until it flees. They don’t have the sensor changes the Thandol developed to see our ships if we stay out of radiation clouds, assuming they use nukes here at home.

“We’re only five hundred ships against close to their three thousand. This includes those that made it back from New Glasgow, some that were left here during that assault, or were at their other colonies. However, we’re stealthed against their sensor systems and half their fleet is on the ground, where we’ll be attacking them and their industrial installations.

“The orbital ships can’t simply withdraw, as they did from Human Space to stop fleet losses. If you keep those in space dodging black holes and anti-ship missiles, and the clanships micro Jump after every launch or energy beam they fire, they won’t locate many of us to hit. This isn’t like shooting fish in a barrel, because the fish can shoot back and are smart, but they are nearly blind fish against their attackers and are at a disadvantage despite their six to one numerical advantage.”

“OK.” Thad was onboard with that strategy. “Who shoots first, or do we all start on cue?”

“We’ll start together. I have no doubt they’ll react quickly, particularly in orbit, and they’ll have ships poised in Tachyon Space to receive instant warnings from message carriers, who will Jump to warn the other orbiting fleet element as soon as we start the attack at either planet. There might be minutes of lag time for the quarter of their fleet at Ver to learn about an attack initiated at Gen, but a radio warning would take nearly twenty-five minutes to cover the distance to the other side of the system to Ver. Therefore, there is certain to be a procedure in place to use their instant communications system. I don't see an advantage for starting one attack before the other.

“One other thing. I’d like to have some prisoners for Mind Tap. One or two captured from the orbiting ships at Gen and one or two at Ver. Their thoughts might be able to guide us on how their leaders will respond to a persistent attack. The Thandol managed to convince them to negotiate and cooperate at some point in their distant past, and it surely involved force before they were offered profits.

“We’re a few minutes from Exit. Jake has already made the assignments of ships to the two groups. Thad, you spread your people out around the fleet at Gen. Sarge, after a brief look around Gen, micro Jump your group to Ver and spread out around them. All of us need to be alert for debris that we could brush against or push through and reveal ourselves. They will have learned from fighting the PU how hard we are to detect, and they damn well know we have their address. That’s why they’re standing guard.”

That sense of caution proved prophetic, when a fine molecular mist of carbon based dust was passively detected, orbiting in a wide, thick belt around Gen’s equator.

Mirikami sounded almost respectful. “That must be artificial, it’s nearly a thousand miles thick, and over two thousand miles wide, with all but a handful of their ships distributed uniformly around the planet, just inside the lowest hundred mile orbitals, staying about two hundred miles above the atmosphere. The lowest levels of dust must experience some slight atmospheric drag, and will be drawn down and burned up.”

Maggi was linked to the AI, Jake, asking about the extremely dispersed microscopic particles. “Jake confirms we couldn’t approach them or mingle with them without disturbing that thin cloud. It would also be hard on our stealth coatings to move against or across that material in their orbits. It’s not carbon like graphite, or simple carbon particle dust or soot. It’s composed of microscopic diamonds.”

“Where in Hell would they get tiny diamonds?” Sarge asked.

Jake, in the link with Maggi, assumed the question was for the AI.

“Astrophysical diamonds are common around certain types of aging stars, when they are less than nine times the mass of Sol. These are Asymptotic Giant Branch, or AGB stars, when they evolve to burn their nuclear fuel faster. They cool, and dust begins to condense in an outer envelope, the star starts to pulsate, driving off the surface layers. There are microscopic diamonds in that mix, and they can be collected, and separated electrostatically. The Thack Delos must have done this. It is a less radioactive version of the concealing envelope they used at New Glasgow.”

Thad, surveying the orbital battlefield his force would have to navigate, noticed there were a few dozen enemy ships that moved slowly throughout the tenuous belt of diamonds, which were too small to see without an electron microscope.

“Tet, Sarge, I found the sources of the diamond cloud, and how they keep replenishing it around their orbiting ships. They have some bloated looking tubs of ships that move slightly faster than the cloud of particles at various altitudes. There is a thicker back trail of the particles behind them, and the cloud show signs of being charged, which helps the particles repel each other, and disseminate wider. My first shots will blow the damn things apart.”

“Don’t do that.” Mirikami cautioned. “You neither Sarge, if they did the same thing at Ver. That would add to the clutter in huge clumps. When we start shooting, have your Scouts project large event horizons directly in front of those ships. In they go, with their cargo of spare dust.”

Sarge liked that idea, and suggested they expand on Mirikami’s proposal. “Hey, after that, we can use the big holes to sweep up all the particles.”

Mirikami shot down another Sarge-ism, as some of his half-baked proposals had been called. “In thousands of miles of a belt of that volume around the entire planet? Not in a week of trying. They must have been spreading these particles for a month, expecting us to return. What I propose is that you use wide black holes to sweep down towards one orbiting ship. That ship will see them tunneling in and Jump away before they get close, but you’ll briefly clear a path for the following anti-ship missiles, which would leave a wake as they accelerated through the dust at hypervelocity.

“Otherwise, the targets of the missiles would also be gone before they arrived, and missile stealth will be scoured by abrasion with the tiny diamonds. If they fly down the brief tunnel you make, they can get closer before selecting a target, and the TD will have less time to see a stealthed missile creating a detectable wake. You might also shoot at them from below the belt, since they are orbiting near its bottom right now. They set all this up to give them warning of incoming stealthed missiles and ships. It won’t work against the Scouts, which can initiate a projected black hole close to the target ship, and then move it faster than they can detect it and doge.

“Foxworthy had many of their wrecked ships examined at New Glasgow, and they don't place their three fusion bottles at the centers of their ships. One at the front, one at the rear, and one off centered from the armored Bridge in the middle. That was why a small hole driven through the center of a ship from the side didn’t do the same damage for the PU as we did to Crushers, Smashers, and both the Ragnar and Finth vessels. The TD build their ships according their own designs. They do have a backup combat center near the rear of their ships. Keep that in mind when the Scouts direct holes at them. Hit the middle and rear to take out two bottles, the Bridge, and the combat center.”

“So, I guess we’re ready to get into position?” Thad was already group linked to his AI designated clanships and Scouts. Sarge would quickly Jump his force to Ver, and both would quickly Comtap to their own captains the details of the enemy dispositions, purpose of the tiny diamond clouds, and their overall strategy.

“OK, people. Tell me when you’re in position. The other Mark IIs have been finding ground targets. Good luck, and let’s give these nuclear bomb users reason to negotiate. When the request to negotiate comes, I won’t be in any hurry to answer. I may forward the first calls to Howard Caldwell, if the bastards try to submit too damn fast.”

****

Master Negotiator Gendap Falstor urgently tried to contact the demoted Stendal Gelander.

“Chief Negotiator Gelander,” he used the title he’d stripped from him. “What did the Federation offer when they tried to get you to revoke our contract with the Emperor? What were their terms? They made no offer today before they started simultaneous attacks on both our Gen and Ver fleet elements. I need a negotiating advantage, and you must tell me what they offered to you. I know they called to you at the contracted world, which former Implementer Desh failed to force into submission. Their offer there can be in my initial proposal to them now.

“This unannounced vigorous negotiation will cost us many ships, and a thousand orbits of future profits, and it must be stopped. We have not received the contract payments promised by the Thandol, and they no longer agree on who is their Emperor. We cannot collect our own tax payments if our fleet is too weak to negotiate with subservient species with strength.”

He knew Gelander was on the other end of his call, because his developmental Negotiator had answered, and had murmured to someone before muting. Being a Master Negotiator, Falstor knew what would bring the disgraced official to the call station.

“I offer you a conditional restoration to Chief Negotiator, with retroactive contract payments for your last mission.”

The assistant passed on the offer, and returned. “Citizen Gelander says it must be irrevocable restoration for life, before he will share what was broadcast to him.”

“Good for one hundred orbits.” He countered. A year on Gen was only three Earth standard months, so the counter offer was still low.

“My trainer has asked me to say goodbye to you,” replied the assistant. If that were a serious threat it would have ended with a dead line. It remained open for further negotiation.

Falstor silently simulated the frustration of chewing gristle for a moment, but the profit losses were mounting as the enemy negotiated vigerously. “Agreed. Chief Negotiator Gelander, you are restored for life, with back payment for your last contract.” It would be possible for Falstor to contract secretly with a junior Implementer, if Gelander was less than helpful. A lifetime contract agreement would end with his foreshortened life.

Gelander’s own voice was heard next. “Accepted and recorded. You know of course, that because of your own contract with the Emperor in place, I was unable to respond with counter offers when they called us. That was one of the terms the Thandol negotiator demanded. That we not consider counter offers. They paid extra for that, you said.”

Falstor didn’t need to hear a rehash of that disastrous contract. “Just tell me what they offered when they called you. I can present a lesser version of that as my opening counter negotiation. They started implementation as if they have a contract with a non-negotiable completion clause. They have never negotiated with us, and are not prepared to out-negotiate a Master Negotiator.”

Gelander aspired to that rank himself, so he replied with confidence. “They made no advance demands here, nor did Implementer Desh when he started negotiations at their world. That says a great deal about them now.”

That was Thack Delos speak for simply starting an attack without any explanation, or a presentation of advance terms of capitulation by the target. It implied only an unconditional surrender was acceptable. And, per the Thandol contract Falstor had accepted for the new Glasgow attack, they were to allow no pause in Contract Implementation at New Glasgow.

“They asked to be left in peace. They offered to help us weaken the Thandol fleet, and overthrow the Emperor’s rule and fragment the Empire.”

“That leaves little room for my counter offer,” Falstor complained. “They were not left in peace, they managed to block the Contract Implementation by Desh, and forced you to pause negotiations. They later weakened the Thandol fleets and fragmented the Empire without our reaching an agreement to join with them.”

“That is what I tried to explain before the Board of Adjustors, that it was not my contract I was sent to negotiate, and I was only to monitor its implementation. It was your contract.” He wasn’t finished with his accusations.

“The Emperor’s negotiator failed to reveal the poor experience of their own dealings with the Federation, and that of the Ragnar and Finth. Yet, in your hurry to gain a larger role in the annexation of the Federation, you did not investigate the doubtful claims of the Thandol. We were poorly prepared, and acted too recklessly, and you demanded no advance payment. Now we cannot collect any of the promised payments from a divided Empire.”

“This is not the time to repeat that discussion. I have restored what was taken from you. I have just contracted with you to tell me how to negotiate with the Federation, based on your experience with them.”

“You still try to negotiate with me using the false information the Thandol provided to you. The world we were sent to negotiate into surrender to the Emperor, did not belong to the Federation. It is in the realm of another human empire or government, called the Planetary Union. The Galactic Federation ships that came here even told you they were only allied with them. It was not the Federation that made offers to me at New Glasgow, a detail you did not provide to me. However, it was the Federation that wanted to negotiate with you here, and you did not reply, even when they said who they were.”

He continued without elation, an emotion the Thack Delos did not consider having value or worth.

“The Emperor’s contract did not prevent you from negotiating another contract if the Federation did not own New Glasgow. You missed that detail, and that was your error, not mine.” Next, he added a datum that perhaps Falstor did not possess, which suggested what the goal of the Federation was.

“Implementer Desh spoke to me before you called, and told me what he learned from other Implementers in orbit. Many of these are not the same design ships of the Planetary Union, and some behave like the Krall clanships we were taught to recognize if we met them in battle. The smaller fleet they sent includes more of the small ships, armed just like the Federation ships sent here while the fleet was away, with gravity weapons. There are larger versions of those that are attacking the surface of Dolbor Ver Delos. These must be Federation negotiators, and they have returned to offer us unprofitable vengeance, an item with no value to us.

“I did not hear what Federation contract offers might be when we were called at New Glasgow, because that was not their world and they were not there. However, if they have the same negotiating position as the Planetary Union, it is too late for you to offer them peace, and the Empire has already been fragmented. I believe they want from us what the Emperor wanted of New Glasgow. Complete surrender. You may need to offer them what our ancestors offered to the Thandol, when they defeated us so long ago. Unconditional surrender to prevent our complete destruction.”

“Surrender? Never! I have started rebuilding our fleet. We will rule all of Sector three.”

“Do you think the Federation will let us rebuild a fleet for that purpose? Implementer Desh, who lives near the Galmore ship yard, reports they are attacking that yard with small black holes that we cannot block or destroy. How will you expand a destroyed fleet without ship yards? I think that whatever you offer the Federation, the Board of Adjusters will be unhappy with the result, and remove you with a punitive profit reduction.

“I now have your recorded contract to restore my position. Perhaps you can make yourself more useful to the Board Adjusters than I am to you. Goodbye.” The line went dead.

Gelander thought with cool satisfaction, Falstor will be unable to pay for a contract to end my life, but less than half the retroactive contract payment will end his.

It was a good day when your expenses were far less than your profits.

****

Thad warned, “They’re launching ships from the ground as quickly as they can get them crewed.”

“OK.” Mirikami acknowledged. He’d been focused on shredding the ship yards and surrounding production facilities. “The Mark IIs will shift to them, and if you can have your Scouts hit them in the upper atmosphere, where their projectors work fine, we can take more of them out before they can Jump or even maneuver.”

A brief Comtap link, and Thad said, “Done. They took down six before I finished talking.”

Mirikami made a mild sounding observation. “Sarge has destroyed nearly three hundred ships at Ver, and hit their two ship yards with hundreds of gravity rods.”

It sparked an expected hot response from Thad. “It isn’t a damned competition, but I point out that he has more ships in his command than I do, but we have killed three hundred twenty-eight, plus the six we just got for you.”

“Slacker.” Sarge rebutted on the group link. “You took on more of the big slow Exterminators, while we had mostly the faster Marauders here. They keep Jumping,”

Thad countered, “Alyson told us the TD hadn’t spread as thick a dust band at Ver. Your clanships can go in and win a quick dogfight when they’re in the clear.”

“She ratted me out?” Sarge pretended outrage.

“The AI assigned Sergey’s ship to my group. Husbands and wives talk.”

“I’ll bet she told him we’re winning.” He gloated back.

Maggi interrupted the testosterone competition. “There was just a transmission from Gen, sent in Thandol. Presumably from a sort of ruling body called the Board of Adjustors. They want to negotiate an equitable contract with us to cease our current negotiations, as they phrased things.

“These cold bastards are all business orientated, with little or no emotion. That matches what Jorl’s lone prisoner, a female, revealed, as well as Fred’s two males. All three are equally dispassionate about what we’re doing to them, and concerned mainly with how their shares in the various contracts they have invested in with subservient species will be affected, should they lack the military resources to implement penalty clauses for non-payments.”

“They have no concerns for their families?” Mirikami inquired.

“They have no families. Rather like the Krall, they hatch from anonymous egg clutches in swamps. They join society shortly after they lose their adolescent tails and gills, and walk onto land. After that they’re fed and housed, educated, and trained in some skill for the advancement and betterment of the common good, for which they owe their society a debt they must repay.

“They mate based on contracts, with payments made between mates based on which one has had the greatest business or work success. After conception, the contract ends and they separate, with their genes passing on to what will presumably be the best offspring they could afford. The female deposits a clutch of eggs in some suitable marshy location, most of which hatch, and some fail the negotiation to survive and leave the swamp. Sort of the Krall and Torki models of early childhood, mixed with our fading Sign the Line marriage contracts with children addendums, in Human Space. They don't appear to experience much in the way of emotions, and as a relatively cold and evolved salamander, that may not be surprising.”

“Well that’s all good to know, but what did they say?”

“They offered to pay us forty percent of the taxes they can collect in Sector three if we cease damaging their means of collection.”

“Holy crap. I wonder if we can even intimidate them into being afraid of us? All they proposed is to share what they force other species pay to them under duress and threats?”

Maggi sounded offended. “You damn well know the Thandol took the major share of taxes, not the Thack Delos. They just insulted us with a low bid.”

“Damn it. We don’t want a share of what they steal or extort from other species, at any percentage. We don’t want them forcibly dominating their neighbors at all, with or without use of nukes. Fair trade deals are fine, or just leave them alone.”

“Tet, we’re going to have to deal with them in the only terms they comprehend. Negotiate some contract agreement that involves payments by them of material things they value, and that they must produce themselves. They don’t care about having anyone’s respect, or grant it to others, they don’t need to be liked, or enjoy the exercising of control or of power over others. Emotional based concepts of domination are of little value to them. They won’t feel a sense of fairness towards others that isn’t defined in the terms of a contract that can be enforced by one side or the other. The methods we used to control or restrain the Thandol, Ragnar, and Finth behaviors isn’t going to work with them. They won’t honor an agreement that doesn’t cost them material benefits, not if they can get around or ignore what they consider to be our irrational emotional demands, and try to impose those values on them.”

“I guess I need to make them an offer they can’t refuse. But not until I break a few more kneecaps.”

“You sound like the Godfather.” Maggi teased.

“Who?” Mirikami asked.

“What’s a Godfather? That some sort of religious reference?” Sarge wondered on the open link.

Exasperated at having to explain another ancient film classic, she complained, “Have neither of you ever watched the golden age of flat screen entertainment movies of old Earth? You both act like some isolated Rim Worlder. If it isn’t on holographic Tri-Vid, and about some scandalous trash or action adventure, it isn’t worth watching.”

“Dear, I love and respect your inquisitive mind. But you still have a strong dose of Rhama Old Colony snobbiness in you for Rimmers. You didn’t like that attitude much when Anna Cahill and her clique applied their elitist Hub World snobbery to you and Dillon, as if colonial people like you were rubes and hicks in the world of biological science and genetics.”

“OK. I do apologize. For having broader interests than you and your hick friend, dear.”

Sarge retorted, “I’m sure all the other hicks appreciate your gracious apology as much as I do.”

“OK.” Mirikami deflected them, as usual. “Back to the attack at hand if you don’t mind. We have more new people to meet, shoot, and threaten.

“The Thack Delos need to experience the severe repercussions of screwing with us, and of casually nuking occupied planets. They must learn what the ultimate profit loss for them could be, even if we’re bluffing about the method, if not the actual promise of what will happen to them.” He switched to address his AI.

“Jake?”

“Yes, Sir,”

“Play the planet busting video using the proper format, on as many of the security camera system frequencies you have identified for the planet below. It will eventually reach their leadership, I think.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Mirikami addressed his listeners on the group link. “Apparently, they don’t watch broadcast dramas and entertainment or sporting events. At least Jake didn’t find any planet wide examples. These appear to be an all work and no play sort of people. No wonder they’re such assholes to deal with. No sense of humor or artistic expression. If we knew their language I might place a dull public service ad of a boring contract negotiation right at the start of our broadcast. That might make the transmission a wild crowd favorite here and boost the ratings.”

Thad asked, “Tet, how long do we hit them if they don’t answer?”

“On this visit, the same length of time I want to hit them if they do answer, and even if they accept our terms. They get clobbered until we have eliminated half their existing fleet of warships, and all their ship yards and repair facilities. If they refuse to negotiate, we’ll leave, but return in less than a year. We’ll leave their commercial ships alone, but I noticed even they are armed.

“If they refuse to concede and remain aggressive, they’ll run out of warships. If they still attempt to attack their neighbors with commercial vessels, they’ll be forced to revert to a pre-space travel society, including on their five colony worlds. We’ll hit them today until half their fleet is wreckage, or they give us some sign they understand.”

The Board of Adjustors did respond within an hour of the broadcasts starting. It wasn’t clear if the delay was because they were being stubborn, or it had taken that long for the implied message to sink in that they were being threatened with a far greater calamity.

The message arrived in a Thandol language message. “Federation negotiators, I am the Master Negotiator of the Thack Delos, Stendal Gelander, appointed by our Board of Adjustors. I request a prompt cessation of your self-negotiated contract Implementation. We will modify our previous offer as required to meet your terms or demands, to be established through immediate negotiation. There is no profit to be gained by you, not if you eliminate even the possibility of our future payments to you.”

Mirikami promptly established a group link before allowing a reply. “People, I think we may have received an offer of an unconditional surrender. Pull back for now, and cease fire unless fired upon. Even then, destroy only the ships that continue to fight.”

Sarge still had his blood lust up, and wasn’t eager to stop. “More than half the ships at Ver are still intact, Tet.”

“Same at Gen, but I want to prove that we’re listening, so we’ll respond. I haven’t changed my position. Half their fleet will be eliminated today. They don’t have to be crewed to do that, if they give them up through negotiation.”

“Roger, we’re micro Jumping out of range.”

Mirikami deferred to Maggi, to reply on the same frequency the Thack Delos had used. “You’re our Ambassador at Large, and Stewart gave us authority to set our terms. Have at them.”

She activated her translation subroutines. “This is Maggi Fisher of the Galactic Federation, I am what you would call a Mistress of Negotiation. I will inform you of what I require of you before we halt Implementation.” She was attempting to use phrases they would understand.

There was a longer pause than expected, and the response, when it came, sounded decidedly confused. And it wasn’t only because it was a multiple translation, first from whatever tongue the Thack Delos spoke, into pigeon Thandol, and then into Standard. There was also a bit of a cultural divide.

“I am unsure of your demand. Is one of our males expected to fertilize you before you lay an egg clutch?”

“What? No. I’m a Mistress of Negotiations.”

“Which is as you told us at first. You are rejecting a male then? Is a female required?”

“No. I will negotiate with either gender.”

“It appears that what you require is something we cannot possibly provide, regardless of gender. We are a very different species. Cross fertilization is impossible, no matter the gender you require. How will we arrive at an agreeable contract with you if you make demands for payment that cannot be met? Are you determined to resume the same vigorous negotiations, and the destruction of our fleet, or our worlds?”

“How did cross fertilization enter the discussion?”

There was more confusion expressed. “Because you proposed to arrange to mate with one of us, a male we assumed if you are a mistress, before your fleet would cease the destruction of our fleet.”

“Are you a Master Negotiator?”

“Yes, of course. The Board of Adjustors appointed me a short time ago, to assume this duty for the urgent contract negotiation needed. Our former Master Negotiator proved to be unreliable at this task, when dealing with an alien representative.”

“Then I am your female equivalent from the Federation, appointed to negotiate with you.”

“Then why did you identify yourself as a Thandol concubine, seeking to contract for payment for mating with us?”

There was a brief background noise on the frequency, which sounded like a strangling animal, before the signal was abruptly muted, but not disconnected.

Maggi was more than pissed off. “Holy crap! Control yourself Tet. It wasn’t that frigging funny. The same for you other male idiots. I can’t hear you, but I know damned well you’re rolling on the decks.”

The Master Negotiator addressed the abrupt silence, concerned this vital negotiation had ended before it started. “I was perhaps misled by your words. The title Master applies to any gender that we appoint as Master Negotiator. The Thandol have no word for a female negotiator, and your word of Mistress means something very different.

“Thandol females have few responsibilities of greater importance than arranging profitable mating, and negotiating the price their family receives in compensation for their services to Herd Masters. No Thandol would speak to any negotiator of ours if they suspected they were a female. They cannot see the differences.”

Mollified by that explanation, Maggi replied. “In that case, I am a female Master Negotiator. We do not have a database of your language for a direct translation from my language. There may be other confusing mixtures of meanings by our forced use of the intermediate Thandol language. If either side finds the other side’s words confusing, we must pause to gain clarification. Many of your people’s lives, and vast profits are at risk. This could well be the most vital contract your species has ever negotiated. It should not become your last negotiation simply because of misunderstandings like this one.”

She thought, I may as well keep them worried about planetary destruction if they screw up this contract.

As the dry discussions proceeded, there were a few isolated incidences of enemy missile launches or fired energy beams, which because the Kobani were all watching, resulted in examples of massive retaliatory overkill.

Mirikami paid little attention to the payments of precious and rare metals Maggi demanded from them, to be paid to New Glasgow, and he only monitored closer when she mentioned several non-negotiable conditions to a cease fire. Such as an absolute ban on their use of nuclear weapons, no attacks on, or attempts at intimidation or tax collection from other species, although they could buy and sell goods with them. He heard her tell the Master Negotiator about Mirikami’s demand, that their fleet must be reduced to half of its strength. Although, being referred to as the Federation’s Contract Implementer was slightly discomfiting.

The number of ships agreed for them to retain was half of those they possessed when the Kobani had arrived this cycle. He was content when he heard they were not being as resistant as he’d expected.

Nevertheless, he was startled when nearly a thousand explosions around the surface of Gen drew Jake’s notice. “Sir, many hundreds of the grounded Thack Delos ships have just exploded.”

“What? Who fired on them? How many were hit? Maggi is still in negotiations. This is showing bad faith on our part.”

“Sir, I detected no missiles, beams, or gravity rods, and black holes do not produce explosions like these. It was not a result of actions by ships of our fleet.”

Maggi looked surprised at something she heard on her now private Comtap link with the Thack Delos. She turned to her husband. “Tet, you won’t believe this! They just announced the destruction of nine hundred eighty-four warships and commercial ships, to meet your fleet size reduction demand.”

“I do believe it! Jake just reported it to me. But wait! I didn’t say commercial ships. I only wanted their fleet of warships reduced. Is that another language misunderstanding?”

Maggi laughed this time. “No. I think these clever negotiators avoided clarifying that detail on purpose. If you check, I’ll bet you’ll find a disproportionate number of destroyed ships were cargo freighters, and probably most of the warships blown up were old models or those needing extensive repairs. I’ll bet they matched the numbers of half their fleet, just as you demanded.”

“What if I say that isn’t what we meant? I intended to reduce their warships.”

“You were imprecise in the details described to me, and I told them what you said. They quickly grasped a perceived loophole, and promptly executed that contract clause. To keep them honest for the rest of the agreement, we need to honor what we asked of them. I’ll be more careful from now on when I negotiate with them. Anyway, it doesn’t alter in any significant fashion our major victory here, does it?”

“No, not really.”

“Fine. Before we leave, I’ll arrange for delivery of their penalty payments to us, so that we’ll pass them on to New Glasgow, to pay for rebuilding there. Then I’ll make sure to issue your trademark warning.”

“What warning?”

“We will be watching you.”

****

The Kobani clustered near the outer part of the Delos system, more to confer than to observe, since they were forty light minutes away from Gen, and even farther from Ver. Just as they had done when visiting the Ragnar and Finth, they had left a stealthed patrol boat in the gravitationally stable L5 Lagrange point of the home planet, to passively monitor communications and the tachyon wave traces of any traffic that Jumped into or out of the system. Using a Prada com set for an instantaneous link to the patient but low grade AI, they could literally watch activities of each of the former Empire Security forces.

Eager for another confrontation, where their technology greatly outmatched their foe, Sarge asked, “Who do we hit next? Emperor Farlol the Dumbest, or Emperor Trindal the Last?”

“Neither one. I’ll send a couple of Scouts to check on Wendal from a distance, and perhaps another two pair to search for which of the Thandol settled worlds Trindal took his portion of their fleet. I don’t want us to be noticed, and with their new sensors we can’t draw too close or they’ll detect the ships. Scouts are still the most difficult to see, and they leave no tachyon wakes.”

“Why don’t we reduce their two fleets, like we did the Thack Delos?”

“You have too short a memory, Sarge. I think we and the PU lost enough ships and crews at Wendal despite having a technological edge in that battle. I don't want to lose more people in a fight just to prove we have balls, and enjoy a turkey shoot.”

“They still have about thirteen thousand ships.”

“Split into two nearly equal opposing groups. Plus, we only came with five hundred ships, and thus far we can take them all home with us, with only minor damage, lives intact.

“I don't want to give high ranking Thandol nobles, with divided loyalties in each camp, a motive to overthrow and kill one of the emperors, then offer to reconcile their differences to face a returning external and common foe. They each will want to restore the Empire under their own banner, and are willing to fight one another for dominance. That’s to our advantage. Why spoil that?”

“So, we just go home?” He sounded dejected.

“Only for resupply. There are twenty-two other species, besides the four bullies, which live within the Empire. I want us to directly contact every one of them. Those species living closest to the Thandol we can’t help very much yet, but they can be given Prada communicators to contact us, and let us know what the Thandol are doing. Those species located nearest the former security forces can be protected from their abuses, and we’ll suggest that as the Federation grows, they might eventually become members.”

Maggi suggested, “You might try leading some of those contact teams Sarge. It could be interesting. You might learn something besides how to pull a trigger.”

Thad sounded enthused. “It’s what Marlyn would have loved doing. I’m up for it, and I already know my three kids and their entire generation can’t wait to jump in a Scout and go meet new species, and wander the galaxy.” His wife, lost when fighting the Krall, had been an explorer at heart.

Maggi added her opinion. “Expansion won’t proceed fast by human standards, but these are species that endured thousands of years of Thandol rule. Look at our own citizens, the Prada, Torki, Raspani, and Krall’tapi. They suffered worse and longer under the Krall, and are now free because of us. Yet, they’ll each tell you that they feel dizzy at the crazy pace at which we live, expand, and change.

“The Olt’kitapi, finally building Excelsior after nearly a twenty-thousand-year delay, had over a hundred thousand years of development before we even left our caves. They say they will join the Federation as soon as they finish their own habitat. That massive multi species habitat will draw representatives of other races there, and thus to the Federation. We might become the seed for a truly galactic wide civilization. A civilization that will need a police force, which we Kobani are well suited for, and at times, perhaps an army and a navy.”

Mirikami was ready to go. “We want to stop at Excelsior on the way home, so we can discuss our future role in the Milky Way with the Olt’kitapi. I want to see what they think. Set your coordinates, I’ll have Jake signal our Jump.”

****

Prola and Frithda waited in front of the inflated dome. The female raised a digit in greeting. “Friend Tet, I confess that our detecting so many ships arrive in what appeared to be an attack formation close to Egg, caused me to briefly regret our earlier decision not to evacuate.”

“I’m sorry Prola. I didn’t think to advise you we were pausing on our return home to see you. We stayed such a short time after you dismantled the planet that I wanted to see your progress.

“Uh…,” he paused to consider what she said, “you said you detected our arrival? I know we have five hundred ships, but we were still in stealth mode when we departed the Thack Delos. None of your tool ships were in orbit here. Do you monitor for stealthed arrivals? We do use your design for our stealth system, so I suppose you can detect us easily.”

“We could do that, but there is an even deeper and more secure stealth possible than that, so we might possibly miss visitors if they used a more advanced method. We watch for anything that is brighter or dimmer than the universal residual radiation. What you call the cosmic microwave background radiation, at an average of 2.726 Kelvins, using one of your human temperature scales. It is most difficult to limit a hull’s radiation to exactly match that average spectrum.

“Even if that’s effectively done, looking towards a ship that did that, it would not match the normal speckled background pattern of that ancient radiation in your own sky, which isn’t precisely the same temperature from spot to spot. The ship would be a speck that didn’t match what was previously there in the background when you look at it from multiple perspectives. We watch the sky from multiple perspectives. Your ships looked like many new speckles, and larger ones at that, because they were close to us and not cosmological.

“The older clanship stealth system emitted more energy in a different spectrum, and that is what the Thandol copied for their systems. They are not very good at innovating.”

Mirikami felt foolish. “I guess we aren’t all that innovative either. We also copied what you do on clanships, and then on Dismantlers.”

“No. You are an innovative species. Your youth, and lack of time using new technologies has prevented you from exploring the myriad ways the technology you possess can be used. We required far longer than you humans needed, to reach our present state of technology. We also borrowed technology from other older, and now extinct species, so we do not claim to have invented every technology we use.”

“You are being kind to us, and I appreciate your patience.” He shifted to the subject he’d said they come to observe.

“From space, when I was with our other ships over Egg, the glowing streamers of gas, and brighter lumps of material do resemble a string of assorted sized beads near your sun, in the same orbit as the former planet.”

“We can see it ourselves from the ground, when our position around Egg Mother permits us to see the star.” They were in the shadow of the giant planet for now, and it was slightly cooler than on their last visit.

“We have needed to use Dismantlers in a fashion we did not expect. The gases from the atmosphere did not cluster as we expected, and we are using projected gravity fields to gather them, before the star’s solar wind pushes them too far apart to easily catch them. We will need to either hold them together with artificial gravity where they are, or tow them farther from the star’s modest heat for safer storage. Like you humans, we too experiment and learn. We just do not do so at your fast pace, and make fewer sharp turns.”

Then she shifted the conversation herself. “We described to you before you departed for the Empire, that the next phases of our project would be slow and unremarkable, even to us, as we sort materials and distribute them around their present orbit for stability. You knew this would require multiple orbits to achieve, and no building or even forming of habitat panels will be started during this period of organization.

“What is the true goal of your politely structured approach to the real purpose of your visit? I do not truly think you returned this soon to see sights that have changed so little.”

As Mirikami hesitated, Maggi forged ahead. “He’s seeking your opinion on what our wider role should be, the role of humanity that is, as many people transition to become Kobani. Not our role just in Federation and Human Space, but in the Milky Way, as time passes.

“Tet thinks he’ll sound too grandiose or pretentious, if he suggests we might become a sort of police force and, if needed, the military arm of a future large multispecies governing body. We originated in a small region of stars, and suddenly in a short time on a galactic scale, we hold sway over many more stars. Not only in the small Orion Spur where you, and later the Krall, represented the most influential species. Now, we are the dominate influence within an even larger volume, that of the fragmented Thandol Empire, along part of the Sagittarius Arm.”

Prola looked at the suddenly shy seeming Mirikami. “Are you seeking our opinion, or our approval? We couldn’t prevent the Krall from doing what they did, and probably could not have stopped a Thandol annexation without the Krall’s help, even had they all become Krall’tapi and used our technology. You humans defeated both, without our expressing our approval or an opinion. Why do you seek those now?”

Mirikami made an admission, “Because I value both from you. You are a species that supported the rise of other races you encountered, without expecting anything from them in return. You are more altruistic that we humans are. I admire that in you.”

“Friend Tet, I know, from wider discussions among my people, the Hothor, the Raspani, Torki, Prada, and Krall’tapi, that we all genuinely hope you limit yourself to just the admiration of your perceived altruism of the Olt’kitapi. Should you decide to emulate true altruism, we could all be lost to the next technologically powerful, and aggressive species we meet in this galaxy, whom would be decidedly non-altruistic.

“You are incorrect to attribute so much altruism to my ancestors, or to us now. We did anticipate a future return for support offered to other species. Friendship, trade, and cooperation if we encountered a mutual foe. Possessing a mixture of self-interest and altruism is required to thrive and survive. Those traits, and a portion of aggression, a trait that we have in too small a quantity for our own survival.

“Fortunately for us all, we found a mixture of those traits in humans in general, and in the Kobani variety of humans, an ability to put them to use more forcefully. You have demonstrated you do not need our approval, but because you ask our opinion and seek approval, I suspect it is deserved.

“In any event, you Kobani are the best option we have yet encountered as our ally and defender, and I hope we can continue what could become a very long association. We hope you can keep us safe, as we take our more cautious steps into the future, without leaving us too terrified at the dangers and adventures you impose on us.”

Maggi clapped her husband on the shoulder, and chuckled. “Gee whiz, Tet. That’s the best gosh darned qualified endorsement and semi approval we’ve had all week. I say we take that home with us, and inform President MacDougal that we almost have the nearly enthusiastic support of most all our allies and many of our Federation citizens, to keep doing what we were going to do, even if they didn't like it.”

Prola said, “Absolutely, I think.” Then she and Frithda turned their heads to look at one another, and chittered.

Mirikami added his own comment. “We know most other species aren’t as impatient and impulsive as we are. And perhaps we should show more respect for your attitudes, but I find it hard to argue with our success, achieved by not adhering to your innate instincts to exercise caution and proceed slowly. At least we Kobani have the Prada longevity genes, so each of us will remain young and vigorous for our entire indefinite lives, if our brashness and risk taking doesn’t get us killed.”

In an apparent concession, he said, “I suppose we could afford to take the time to be patient, to wait and see how events develop over the centuries, as most other species do.”

Then he smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “Wait Hell. I want to see what’s out there.”

*****************************

This concludes the Koban Series at Book 7. There will be other standalone Kobani books, to show where they go, who they meet, what they do, and what adventures they experience.  And possibly prequels from before Book 1.

I have thoroughly enjoyed writing about this view of the possible future of our species. There are different grand scale futures in the stars for humanity, which I also hope to explore.

Currently, I have a more contemporary science fiction story under development, expected to be a trilogy, and it takes place on Earth. It extends from our time, and into our immediate future. The first book will be titled Controllers, the second book will be Immunes, and the third Adepts. The story examines where a dangerous version of mind control could lead our species, if it was twisted and used for personal gain, for evil, and for conflicting nationalist advantage. There will be light hearted moments, but grim and horrifying events lead to dangers, action, death, and personal sacrifice, and an international struggle for survival, and control of the future of humanity.

I hope you’ll join me in these adventures, and I’ll try to sprinkle Koban Universe stories between other books.

Thanks,

Stephen W Bennett

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

HUMANS

Former crew from Flight of Fancy

Tetsuo Mirikami

Captain of captured Flight of Fancy. From Old Colony of New Honshu, in the Hub area. Became Commander of Prime City after Krall left Koban. Captain of the Mark of Koban, a captured Krall clanship. Leader of the Kobani.

Noreen Renaldo

Former First Officer of Flight of Fancy. From Old Colony of Ponce, in the Hub area. Married Dillon Martin. Mother of TGs Carson, Katelyn, and Cory. Captain of the Avenger, a stolen Krall clanship.

Jake (Artificial Intelligence)

An old model JK series AI computer, installed on Flight of Fancy. Able to operate many of the ship systems autonomously. Repository of vast human library of documents, books, films, Tri-Vid shows, etc. A common capability on long Jump passenger liners. Later, the software is cloned and named Jakob for reuse. The cloned software is eventually placed in a modern AI system aboard the Mark of Koban, Mirikami’s captured and converted Krall clanship.

(Chief) Mike Haveram

Was once Chief of the Drive Room on the Flight of Fancy. Now captain of the Falcon, a former smuggler’s ship purchased on Poldark. He helps supply Koban with goods and weapons from Human Space.

Macy Gundarfem

Former Motorfem on Flight of Fancy. One of the “Drive Rats.”

John Yin-Lee

Former Motorman on Flight of Fancy. One of the “Drive Rats.”

Andrew Johnson

Former Motorman on Flight of Fancy. One of the “Drive Rats.”

Nory Walters

Former Chief Steward on Flight of Fancy.

Mel Rigson

Former Steward and Medical technician on Flight of Fancy.

Cal Branson

Former Steward and Medical technician on Flight of Fancy.

Bob Campbell

Machinist Mate.

Neri Bar

Machinist Mate.

Chack Nauguza

Cargo Specialist, handy man.

Passengers from the Fancy, and various other ships, and early captives

Dillon Martin

Professor of biological sciences, sent to Midwife to study developing primitive life. Hidden specialty is forbidden genetics research. From Rhama, a New Colony, close to the Hub worlds. Married Noreen Renaldo. Father of TGs Carson, Katelyn, and Cory. Works on Kobani gene mods.

Maggi Fisher

Professor of biological sciences, Chairfem of Board of Director’s on Midwife project. From Rhama. Organizing unofficial teams to recover lost genetic knowledge. Later, first Mayor of Prime City. Works in Kobani gene mods. She marries (Signs the Line) with Captain Mirikami.

Aldry Anderfem

Professor of biological sciences, granddaughter of Claronce Anderson, a former President of Alders world. Supports secret Genetics research. Administered first human Clone mods in three hundred years, to make Second Generation Kobani. Helps design and implement Kobani mods.

Rafe Campbell

Studied human genetic mutations from cosmic rays on Brussels, a New Colony. Wife Isadora killed on ship by a Krall, “exercising.” Dove into Koban genetic studies when given a chance to make humans physically superior to the Krall. Chief designer of Kobani gene mods.

Stewart MacDougal

Former Hub City resident, initially resisted gene mods, then changed position. Moved to Haven, entered politics, and became the first Galactic Federation president, and accepted full Kobani mods.

Other Captives (at Koban Prime, later renamed Prime City)

Thaddeus Greeves

Former Colonel of a Diplomatic Security detail for Poldark Ambassador. Married Marlyn Rodriguez. Father of TGs Ethan, Bradley, and Danner.

Marlyn Rodriguez

First Officer of Rimmer’s Dream, arrived in mass capture of human ships. Married Thad Greeves. Mother of TGs Ethan, Bradley, and Danner. Captain of the Beagle, a stolen Krall clanship. Killed in raid at K1.

Second Generation Kobani

Carson Martin

Parents Noreen and Dillon, born an SG, received Koban gene mods to become Third Generation Kobani. Marries Alyson Formby.

Ethan Greeves

Parents Marlyn and Thad, born an SG, received Koban gene mods to become Third Generation Kobani.

Alyson Formby

Born in Hub City as an SG. At eighteen, left home to request Koban mods, against her parent’s wishes. Became first TG from Hub City, then first to be a TG1 from there. Married Carson Martin.

Jorl Breaker

Fred Saber

Bill Saber (Killed on Meglor Dock raid in Thandol Empire)

Their parents were all early Koban captives. At sixteen, they became TGs.

HUMAN SPACE

Garland (Sarge) Reynolds

Sergeant in the PU Army on Poldark. Captured by the Krall, and in a fluke of circumstance is taken to Koban by his captors, and is there rescued by the Kobani, twenty years into the war with the Krall. His rescue when the first clanship is captured (the original Mark of Koban), was the key event for the Kobani to travel back to Human Space.

Henry Nabarone

A Major General of the Planetary Union Army, in charge of Poldark’s defense. Formerly in a local militia unit, and second in command after Colonel Thaddeus Greeves of that same unit. He becomes a secret Kobani.

Howard Caldwell

Colonel in the PU Army, and aide-de-camp and friend to General Nabarone. Was a Kobani along with Nabarone. After the Krall war, retired and became a partner with Chief Haveram in a Koban based shipping company.

Joseph Longstreet

Once a captain of a platoon of spec ops troops, expanded to absorb remnants of units suffering losses from missions behind Krall lines on Poldark. Becomes a Kobani, and “goes missing” to join the Kobani in fighting the Krall, and later the Thandol.

Golda Mauss

Admiral that commanded first two PU naval raids on K1, participated in a third as ship captain and advisor. Becomes a Kobani, and moves to Koban. Assumes command of part of Federation fleet to fight Empire forces.

Marlene Strickland

PU politician in the LOR party, becomes PU president, is pro-Federation, and supportive of the Kobani gene mods.

Adriana Bledso

Former Naval Chief of Staff. Becomes Chairfem of Joint Chiefs of Staff of Planetary Union military. Retired and entered politics. Becomes PU Vice President, is pro-Federation and supports gene mods.

Janet Foxworthy

Admiral in PU navy, former squadron commander at Poldark. Is one of the early military officers to legally receive Kobani gene mods.

Heavyside

A Rim World planet, not considered suitable for mass human colonization. Located on the anti-spinward side of human exploration, on the far side of Human Space from the Krall invasion. It has 1.41 times Earth’s gravity. Heavyside was home of the Special Operations training program. Site of a second gene lab for converting selected spec ops candidates into Kobani.

KRALL

Tor Gatrol Telour

Originally a Krall translator, of Graka Clan. Second in command of Newborn Raid that capture the Flight of Fancy and Mirikami, her captain. Became second in command of Krall, with the title/rank of Til Gatrol. Became Tor after arranging previous Tor’s murder. Personally, captured by Mirikami, and taken to Earth for trial for genocide. When anti-Kobani PU president wanted to arrest Mirikami for her bias against gene mods, a diversion was created by Mirikami issuing a Death Match to Telour. The Krall reader died a grizzly death in front of media cameras, proving the Kobani claim that gene mods made them physically capable of defeating the Krall.

KRALL’TAPI

Called the “soft Krall” by the now genetically distinct Krall. The Krall’tapi are what the Krall were twenty-five thousand years ago, when they allowed the Olt’kitapi to modify a gene that made Krall super aggressive and war-like, creating a people less uncontrollably violent, and ready to work with the Olt’kitapi. The Krall’tapi were held captive by the self-evolving Krall for many thousands of years. Only the soft Krall could command the ancient Olt’kitapi mining ships that could break apart worlds. Freed by the Kobani, they have joined the Federation.

OTHER ALIEN RACES

Olt’kitapi

Highly advanced and ancient people, determined pacifists, who first discovered the Krall. Mentored the violent race, hoping to make them more peaceful, but were betrayed and destroyed by the Krall about 22,000 years ago. Believed to have been exterminated, survivors were found hiding in Empire territory, under the protection of the Hothor, a sloth-like subservient species of the Thandol overlords.

The race of gentle mantis-like large insects, were a slow expanding space traveling species for over a hundred thousand years, with brilliant mathematical minds. Their compound eyes contributed to their mental ability to perceive geometries and patterns that extended into alternate spaces, such as Tachyon Space, which at points impinge upon what humans call the Normal Space of our Universe. Many space faring species discovered the mathematics of reaching into Tachyon Space for the energy required to produce event horizons, and rotating into that adjacent Universe to achieve faster than light travel. The Olt’kitapi learned to do it more efficiently, and deduced the higher dimensions in that space, equivalent to the four dimensions of Normal Space, which yield shorter travel times.

Their life cycle begins with an egg, hatching into a caterpillar state of multiple colors, depending on its gender. The larval stage is also intelligent, and at the discretion of the individual can last from two to ten “orbits,” or years in human terms. It must select which adult body form it wishes for its future, a maker, a builder, or hybrid, and adjust its diet to achieve the intended result. The Makers are the more intellectual and theoretical thinkers, their scientists, and philosophers, who produce ideas and new theories. The Builders are those that engineer, build, and actualize the ideas, and what theory shows is possible.

After a pupa stage, the final body style emerges, resembling a walking stick-like creature with a triangular mantis shaped head, and a two-segmented body with six limbs. They grow larger over many orbits via molting, to become an adult maker, builder, or combination of types. The inherited hormones of their gender determine adult coloration rather than body style. Females, which have names that traditionally end with a “la” sound, and male names that end with “da,” have obvious differences in shadings and colors. Females are brightly colored with a high sheen, with colors such as shades of purple, blue, orange and reds. The drabber males displayed shades of dull greens, tans, browns, and some had mottled black markings or splotches. The heights of the insects varied, with maker forms of either gender being taller, and builder forms shorter in length, holding more of their torso horizontal as they moved.

Survivors are found hiding on a world in Empire space. With Kobani help, they move to a Federation world once claimed by their ancestors. They start construction on vast habitat called Excelsior, with many planet sized units for species that will be invited to join the Olt’kitapi.

Gith Prola and Gith Frithda

A mated Olt’kitapi pair, the female being a maker form, chosen with her builder form mate as representatives for their species, acting as intermediaries with other races. Gith is their chosen mating name to denote their connection.

Prola is a light purple shade, her overall length being roughly six feet, and her thick lower abdomen is partly held horizontally, before curving up sharply to her thorax. Her face is five feet above ground, with four legs supporting the lower abdomen two feet off the ground. The flat sections of the angular legs have a considerably sturdier appearance than the spindly stick like legs of a scaled-up insect. The back feet are two-toed pads, but the middle limb’s feet resembled a cross between feet and hands, with a grasping capability. The triple jointed front upper limbs were held high, hands together, but were distinctly not made for grasping prey, and were articulated much like a human’s arms. There were six finger-like appendages for hands, of three to six inch lengths, and had several joints on each digit, making them very flexible.

Frithda was at least a foot shorter in length, mostly light green, with shades of brown on his lower abdomen. He normally poses more horizontal than his mate, although his middle limbs also have basic grasping hands. His front limbs are noticeably sturdier than his mate’s, and his hands have thicker stronger fingers and look less flexible. His head shares the same triangular shape and compound eyes, with two shorter brown colored antennae.

Raspani

A spacefaring, once highly intelligent and peaceful race, with about a dozen colonized worlds. They were a client race of the Olt’kitapi, advancing under their guidance. After their defeat by the Krall, they became semi-intelligent because the Krall bred and used them as meat animals. They were raised in herds on many of the Krall worlds. The grey creatures, paler on the stomach than on the back, looked somewhat like a pigmy hippopotamus from Earth. They are nearly three feet high at mid back, and five feet long in the lower torso. The upper part of their torso is vaguely centaur-like, which when held upright places their heads five feet above ground.

They have a pudgy pair of human-like jointed arms and dexterous looking hands. When grazing, they pluck tender grass shoots and fern leaves with their hands. They also eat fruits and berries if they can find them. They have the masticating side teeth of most herbivores, but sport two residual tusks, jutting up from the lower front jaw. These protruded three or four inches above fleshy lips, and have facial features arranged much like on a human. They have a central flat nose above their lips, with two large nostrils, and large, forward-facing brown eyes under light brown furred brows. The head was smooth, rounded, and hairless, but there was some sparse brown hair growing along their upper and lower backs.

Blue Flower Eater

A Raspani spokesperson’s mind, encoded on a modified quantum storage device along with millions of other Raspani minds, who sought protection from Krall atrocities on their species.

Prada

Bipedal, forest and jungle living, eats fruit, nuts, insects, and small game. The creatures are black or brown, with white markings. Resemble a lemur or monkey-like mammal, with a useful prehensile tail. About the size of an Earth Chimpanzee, they can use their five fingered hands (with longer middle finger for digging out grubs) and long toes almost equally well. They retain some arboreal ability. The Prada have large yellow eyes, and they were originally nocturnal animals. They were the Krall’s main assemblers and builders.

Their society took roughly seventeen thousand Earth years to colonize a volume some three thousand light years in radius. They selected moderate gravity worlds of 0.7 to 0.8 g’s, and preferred dimmer redder stars than Sol. They befriended other races, unless such contact was rejected. Engaged in cooperation and trade with the Olt’kitapi.

They are a long-lived species who place their eldest members in charge. This deferment to the elders is why they originally cooperated with the Olt’kitapi, the oldest intelligent species they knew. After the Olt’kitapi were all killed by the Krall, the next oldest species they knew was the Krall. They became loyal and submissive to them, and lost their original language, so speak only “low” Krall. They are the largest group of slaves and can build most things the Krall want for war, or have copied from other races.

Wister

A male Prada elder, roughly one thousand three hundred years old, found in a tree village on the planet next to Koban, left there by the Krall when they departed the system.

Nawella

A female Prada elder, and sister of Wister. She is a bit older than her brother is and he seeks her advice. Together they manage a small village of their people, who preserve an underground factory complex where anything required by the Krall can be built.

Torki

A highly intelligent eight-foot-wide by five-foot-long, and three-foot-high land crab race with one large defensive pincher and a smaller one for grasping, and a hard, deeply purple shell, with eight amber colored legs. The two in front of their mouths are small and used as dexterous manipulators. Their eyes are on two-foot stalks, and they perform fine assembly of tools and electronics for the Krall, copying from plans taken from other defeated races.

They had been star traveling for eleven thousand years when the Krall over ran them. Preferred worlds with ample seashores, and bypassed most worlds inside their six hundred light year sphere. They built giant ships for their large bodies, and simulated seaside environments for their own comfort. Huge ships carried only a few hundred Torki, but when used by the Krall they had room for ten thousand warriors, or even more Prada. Several thousand Torki could fit, with great discomfort.

As adults, these land crabs are terrestrial and are found as far as ten miles from the shoreline, returning to the sea only to soak or breed. They sleep at night in cool burrows several feet deep, or at least to a level that will allow water to seep in for moisture. They are primarily vegetarians, preferring tender leaves, fruits, berries, flowers, seaweed, and some vegetables. Occasionally they will eat fish, beetles, or other large insects.

Like all crabs, they shed their shells as they grow. If they have lost legs or claws during their present growth cycle, a new one will be present after they molt. If the large claw is lost, males will develop one on the opposite side until their next molt. Newly molted crabs are very vulnerable because of their soft shells. They are reclusive and hide until the new shell hardens.

Coldar

An influential Torki in his lodge, left behind on the world next to Koban when the Krall departed. The crabs can communicate electronically by a quantum storage device they were given prior to becoming sentient, by the Olt’kitapi. As they advanced, the locked libraries in the storage devices open to help them access new knowledge and databases. They know of the ancient race, but they never met their benefactors. They build new storage devices as their population expands, and copy the data they have into them, not knowing what new information they may contain.

Hothor

A space traveling but subservient species in the Thandol Empire. They vaguely resemble upright sloths, and stand between five and five and a half feet tall as adults. They don’t move slow or sloth-like, and have a quick and nervous seeming quality when they move.

There is gray and white fur down their backs, thick looking hair of a few inches in length, thinning at the sides and on their upper limbs, and nearly gone on the front. Their arms are nearly hairless below their elbows, and the bare skin of the arms and hands are almost black, with only short fine and sparse gray hair there.

They have a round head with short hair on the top and sides on a long neck, the skull being slightly smaller than a human’s, with a circular, nearly flat, and hairless face, with a small pointed muzzle and fine little teeth. Their wide set small eyes are dark, in a face that was is black as the skin of their arms. There are two slits between their eyes that served as nostrils, rather than being placed at the end of their small muzzle.

They cooperate with the Federation, to undermine Thandol rule. On their second colony world, the only free and surviving members of the Olt’kitapi reside hidden in a forest under a false canopy, their existence a Hothor secret from the Empire.

Ragnar

An ape-like species within the Thandol Empire. A former aggressive opponent of the Thandol, but defeated and made subservient by their higher technology enemy. Their combat ability and natural aggression was exploited, and they were made a security force for the Empire, with only limited naval and ground forces permitted, to keep them from attempting a revolt against the Thandol. They enforce the Emperor’s will on other species in one of the three sectors of the Empire, collecting and sharing in taxes, punishing disobedience, and participating in annexation of new species when encountered. They were tasked with conquering the Federation after the Krall threat was eliminated by the Kobani.

Gimtal Thond

The Force Commander of the Ragnar led Annexation Campaign of the Galactic Federation stars, on behalf of the Thandol Empire.

Thandol

They resemble amber colored smaller sized elephants, standing on four legs, with two very strong and flexible trunks below their mouths, paired with two manipulator tentacles on the front of their faces above their mouths. The upper two manipulators, about half the diameter and length of the trunks, are true tentacles, with small gripping suckers on the undersides. The ends of the tentacles became very slender, almost tendrils, clearly capable of fine manipulation. They’re strictly vegetarian, have no tusks, and are almost seven feet high at the front shoulder.

Their walking pace was like an elephant’s, two or three feet normally touching the ground at a time. With a smaller body mass, and adapted for lower gravity worlds, a Thandol, unlike the heavier and larger elephants or moosetodons, could genuinely run, getting all four feet off the ground in a full out gallop.

Thandol, evolved from herd animals, have a tremendous ego, with males driven to dominate their herds. That is why they formed an Empire, with a single Imperial Herd Master Emperor over them all. Emperors are periodically overthrown and replaced, with little effect on their control over the species they dominate.

They are a naturally aggressive species, and it was their accidental discovery of higher level Tachyon Space rotations that gave them the edge in expansion, and the ability to defeat the only three aggressive species they encountered, of the twenty-six they have defeated and annexed into their slowly growing Empire. The Ragnar, Finth, and Thack Delos became their security forces in three sectors, but not permitted to have combined force close to what the Thandol maintained.

They were envious and fearful of the Olt’kitapi when they met them, but the “bugs” were so advanced the Thandol feared attacking the passive seeming species. They became concerned when the insects followed their own example, and armed a savage barbarian species to be their protectors from the Empire. Thus, the Thandol pulled farther away from them, and their caution was rewarded when the Krall revolted and killed the Olt’kitapi.

When the wild hordes of rapid breeding Krall clans ran rampant, they stayed silent and isolated from the Orion Spur, where the Olt’kitapi had lived. After drone scouts reported the Krall had been defeated, via a trick by an enemy that disarmed them, the Thandol renewed their interest in annexing that region of space, now part of the newly formed Galactic Federation.

About the Author:

I was born in 1942, so I'm an autumn rather than a spring chicken. I live outside of Tampa, Florida with my fabulous wife Anita, and one remaining son sort-of at home, Montana. I have three older boys, Mark, Gary, and Anthony, all of whom have married and presented us with terrific grandchildren.

My early reading interests were arguably all sci-fi related, from Doctor Doolittle, Captain Marvel, to Superman. I then transitioned to "real" science fiction on black and white TV, such as Captain Video and Flash Gordon. I read hundreds of books by the science fiction greats growing up, and thousands of fair to not so greats in dual novel paperbacks and magazines. I’ve had a lifelong love of science and science fiction.

My education gravitated to science, starting out as a physics major and my depression era folks told me I'd never make a living as a theoretical physicist (probably right, and Cosmology wasn't a career field then), so I moved to Electronics Engineering. I did most of that in the aerospace field for MacDonnell Douglas Corp, in St. Louis, Mo. I worked on the F4 Phantom project, and briefly on Manned Orbiting Laboratory (MOL), before the fickle fates of government finance forced contract cancelations. I devoted (meaning I was drafted into) two years' service for the US Army from 1965 to 1967. A great two years, and the Army, caring not the least about my electronics background, offered this draftee a job as an Air Traffic Controller. Cool!

After discharge, I spent a short time back at MacDonnell Douglas before the contract reductions laid me off, and was hired by Emerson Electric (1968), working on the design of a neat heads-up fire control system for the Army's new Cheyenne Helicopter (to be a 270-knot hybrid fixed wing/rotor craft). Never heard of it? The fickle fates of Army finance were why this time, plus Lockheed didn't keep the airframe part from crashing and burning at a crucial point in development.

I taught Electronics for about eighteen months (near starvation wages after the high pay), and finally decided to try my hand at truly supporting my family again. I hired on with the Federal Aviation Administration as an Air Traffic Controller in 1970. Thanks Army! In 1979, I changed jobs in the FAA to use my technical background to work on writing features for the software of the FAA's Terminal Automation Systems (for 28 years, with some controller time overlap). I spent exactly forty years (to the day) in federal service.

Retired, I now work as a consultant/contractor for the FAA, supporting a software system I helped to create. In anticipation of more free time while retired (wrong!), I finally decided to try my hand at writing what I love to read for escapism, Science Fiction.

Thanks for reading my books,

Steve Bennett

Published Books

Koban (August 2012)

Koban: The Mark of Koban (February 2013)

Koban: The Rise of the Kobani (October 2013)

Koban Universe 1 (March 2014)

Koban: Shattered Worlds (November 2014)

Koban: A Federation Forged in Fire (July 2015)

Koban: Conflict and Empire (August 2016)

Koban: When Empires Collide (May 2017)

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The End

Attention reader: This concludes our regularly scheduled broadcast. I hope you’ve enjoyed the series. There will be future standalone Kobani books between other projects.