Star Force: Origin Series Box Set (37-40)
Author: Aer-Ki Jyr
Date: 2016-02-22T05:00:00+00:00
Publisher: Archon Lore

Scruples

1

January 9, 2444

Orica System

Inner Zone

A tiny jumpship decelerated against Orica C, the smallest of the three stars that made up the trinary system that the Nestafar had made their capitol. Some said jumping into or out of a trinary was more difficult, others said it was easier because it gave you more gravity well options to work with, but it was true that with the stars orbiting around each other you had a moving target to hit, making accurate stellar charts a must for transit into or through the system.

The Alliance had all the Nestafar maps, or so they they’d been told. That said, the Nestafar could have been setting them up from the get go. Fortunately the long animosity between them and the Calavari had seen their enemies compiling detailed charts of their most precious systems, Orica included, so it wasn’t a surprise when the jumpship came out of its coast phase and decelerated right on target for the innermost star.

Very nearby was Orica A, with its huge red glow providing the background to Orica C’s yellow hue. Had the jumpship not had differential drives it would have been a more robust navigational calculation required to push off of both stars for deceleration purposes, but the Bsidd ship didn’t have to bother, for they and every other major power in the Alliance had the technology to pick out one gravity well and exclude the others.

The tiny ship was barely larger than a lizard battleship, but a true jumpship it was, though it carried no cargo or other vessels. It was a scout ship, pure and simple, and as soon as it got itself situation into a holding position over the star in lieu of an orbit, it began picking up Nestafar tracking signals.

Thousands of tiny beacons spread across the system were pumping out lightspeed detection signals of various types, allowing delayed detection of any ship entering the system. Should the scout ship delay making another jump, Nestafar patrol ships would be quick to begin intercept maneuvers, coming from one of the 93 inhabited planetoids within the system.

This scout ship, however, had come in very close to Orica C, with the stellar radiation making detection a bit more difficult. Add to that the sensor dampening hull plates that the Bsidd researchers had reverse engineered from lizard hull segments, and the scout ship had a small window of invisibility in close to the star to work out of.

So there it sat, soaking in the signals from afar while it was backlit by the yellow star. Most traffic coming into and out of the system used Orica A’s much larger gravity well as their jumping point, which meant that Orica C was less likely to receive traffic…and in a few hours’ time it would be receiving a lot of traffic in the form of Alliance warships. Warships that would need a heads up as to what was going on in the system and where all the key pieces were at.

Thankfully, the Bsidd sensors could pick up the reflective pings from the Nestafar beacons just as well as they could, so every ship within its line of sight was being registered, on a delay, and updated into a forming battlemap that was being overlaid onto the system map that the Elarioni had provided. Given that they had never been in the system themselves and had only stolen it from the Nestafar databases, the Alliance wanted confirmation before they’d risk the sizeable fleet they’d assembled, so if the scout ship didn’t find what it was meant to find by the time they arrived it would flag them down and they’d jump back out of the system as soon as they recharged their capacitors.

The delay in doing so wouldn’t matter, for no amount of patrol ships would be able to harass them in sufficient numbers, but if they were to achieve a surprise attack they’d have to split up immediately upon arrival and essentially be flying blind to their targets without knowing what was actually waiting for them.

And there was a lot waiting for them. Even from its limited perspective the gangly jumpship, which looked like a twisted knot of bluish/purple tubes, began tabulating the fleets of warships present over several worlds, along with hundreds of defense stations and millions of other ships moving about. Some were jumpships, but most were interplanetary cargo ships serving the system by carrying cargo to and from the various planets and moons.

The system was an empire in and of itself, holding more planetoids and infrastructure than Star Force’s core zone. One of those planetoids, the 17th out from the inner two stars and 4th in from Orica B’s very high orbit, was the Nestafar homeworld.

It wasn’t the largest, nor the most populated Nestafar world in their territory, or even in the system, but it was the planet their empire had began upon and was still the focal point in their society. Their industry was another matter, with three planets in orbit around Orica B holding their primary shipyards. They accounted for 43% of all shipbuilding the Nestafar possessed, though that staggering number didn’t do the actual facilities justice.

Even at vast distance between the central two stars and their sister out in high orbit, the scout ship had no trouble picking up sensor images from some of the orbital facilities around the trio of worlds, or rather the two that were visible. The third was on the opposite side of Orica B and temporarily obscured from view.

The scout ship held position, soaking up data from the current side of the star then slowly moved around it, hovering on its gravity drives. As it did more planetoids came into view, as well as more ships in the gaps. As predicted, the infrastructure was almost entirely located in orbit around the planets and moons, with only a handful of signals coming back confirming the presence of interplanetary facilities that the Elarioni-stolen map had indicated.

Two were refueling stations, set close in to the center of the system to service passing jumpships without them needing to make a microjump further into the system. Four more, set at LaGrange points between the stars and planets, were military outposts with quick response fleets capable of reinforcing the various planets or going after ships coming into the system. By staying on the gravitational jumpline between two gravity wells, or more accurately just off it to avoid collisions with passing traffic, they had the option of moving in two directions, albeit at a slower pace given their distance.

The scout ship did a sensor focus on those outposts, holding a passive receiver directly on those locations and soaking up more of the limited reflective signal, trying to get a breakdown on what was there. It took some time, but the glob of a signal refined itself into the station and the hundreds of ships docked or floating nearby it.

The scout ship did a basic head count and added that information to the survey it was pulling, which would be transmitted to the Alliance fleet as soon as they arrived.

When the Bsidd ship moved all the way around the star to the far side and started to come in through the gap between Orica A and Orica C it picked up something that wasn’t supposed to be there. Situated in the gap between the stars was a huge fleet, thousands of ships strong, all of which were warships based on the silhouettes.

The scout ship moved just close enough around the curve of Orica C to keep itself from appearing as a silhouette of its own off the edge of the star, but it didn’t shoot the gap itself, knowing that if the fleet’s active sensors were sent its way its odds of staying hidden were nil. As it was the Bsidd were closer to the star than they wanted, with their partial shields having to push back a considerable amount of stellar radiation. The outside half of their ship was exposed, which was necessary to pick up the reflective signals at maximum effect, but the hull had to retain the growing amount of heat else it’d start to glow on its own accord.

That was one downside of the lizard armor. It soaked up EM, which it then had to process internally before it became saturated…and this close into the stars there was a lot of EM coming its way.

The Bsidd knew they could only nose into the gap for a brief period of time, for while they were blocking the stellar radiation from Orica C with their hemispherical shields, they couldn’t shield their front half and still get a good passive sensor read on the fleet. That meant Orica A’s radiation was hitting them and their superabsorbent hull with a ton of heat.

The scout ship eventually had to pull back around Orica C and lose sight of the fleet, after which the internal processors began eating up some of the extra heat in the armor rather than venting it. Conventional wisdom held that heat coming from the direction of a star would help its cover rather than expose the ship, but that wasn’t true if someone was monitoring the stellar output and saw a blip of radiation that didn’t match what the star was putting out…and heat was one form of radiation.

The Bsidd held position over Orica C as it orbited around Orica A, gradually exposing the remaining slice of the system that Orica A had been hiding and allowing them to finish their battlemap just before a pair of warships circled around Orica C in low orbit, hunting for the ghost ship that the sensor beacons had picked up entering the system.

The high speed at which the scout ship had entered the system meant it was plowing into the beacon signals and reflecting them back at greater than lightspeed. Those unusual signal speeds existed as a brief, intense flash on sensors that normally alerted one to an incoming jumpship, if you were on the trajectory line to see them.

The Nestafar sensor grid was, but after the flash there had been no visible ship. One obvious possibility would have been that the ship had hit the star, but careful evaluation of the flash could produce a descending acceleration curve, indicating that the object had in fact been braking.

Now, that didn’t mean the ship didn’t hit the star, but had it, there would have been some sort of disturbance on the surface of Orica C…which there wasn’t. The Nestafar had then sent out two ships to pull a close scan near the star, finding nothing on the approach side, so now they were moving around to check the back where the scout ship was currently hiding.

The Bsidd saw them coming first, and knowing they still had a few hours until the fleet arrived, they turtled up inside their full shields and abandoned any further monitoring. Their mission now was simple…survive long enough to deliver their data.

Using their superior shielding the scout ship dropped down closer to the star, so far in fact that they entered the extreme upper atmosphere, using it as a sensor-dampening blanket that cut out the Nestafar sensors as well as their own as the intense radiation tried to cook the Bsidd, with their advanced cooling systems sucking heat out of the hull and storing the energy internally, some of which was then used to reinforce the shields…at least as much as the emitters could handle.

They couldn’t see the Nestafar, and they very much hoped they couldn’t see them. After that point it was just a matter of time, with the deteriorating shield matrix pitted against the clock, and according to the Bsidd’s calculations they’d survive in their presence location until the Alliance fleet arrived with 48 minutes to spare.

When the estimated time for the fleet arrival came the scout ship increased the trickle of power to its gravity drives and raised up out of the star’s atmosphere and started pumping out its active sensors, looking for ships nearby. The two Nestafar warships were no longer snooping overhead, leaving the area around this side of the star open.

But the fleet wasn’t coming in on this side, so the Bsidd flew back up into low orbit and reversed course, flying back around the way they’d come until they were in view of the approaching jumplane the fleet would be taking now that the star had completed a full orbital tango with its twin. Though they couldn’t see the response, they knew the Nestafar would be alerted to their position within minutes and begin to deploy ships to hunt them down, but given the signal lag it shouldn’t matter…assuming the fleet was on time.

Right now all that mattered was staying alive and getting the data to the fleet, and in order to do that the scout ship needed to know if anyone was nearby, hence the active sensors. One contact materialized, coming out of the gap between stars where the Nestafar fleet was, just before the first Alliance ship jumped in, decelerating hard against Orica C and stopping just shy of running into it…though that had been by design.

The scout ship detected its presence a few seconds after arrival, then began transmitting its data along with the go ahead order, indicating that the plan was still in play, despite the thousands of warships right next door.

The Hycre jumpship received the data and input it into their computer system, set to relay out to the other ships automatically as they arrived…but they weren’t here yet, also part of the plan, because the Alliance didn’t want the Nestafar to see who was coming.

Using a computer virus the Elarioni had designed, the Hycre began transmitting into the Nestafar data grid, pumping the program out to as many enemy receivers as it could. The beacons and other receivers bounced the signal around the system, getting it to locations that were eclipsed by the stars and planets, including the nearby fleet that was pinched between the disruptive influences of both stars.

When the program got into the Nestafar computers it didn’t affect weapons, life support, navigation, or any of the vital systems. Instead it altered the computer records, so that when the sensors saw the first dozen Hycre jumpships arrive the data was lost, superimposed with an ‘active’ map of the system from either memory or the last current location of ships and facilities if they were within a certain range, so that a ship a kilometer off the bow of another wouldn’t just disappear and attract attention.

The purpose of the virus was to keep things ‘normal’ as the fleet arrived, and that’s just what it did…aside from the scout ship and the first Hycre jumpship, which the Nestafar were now learning about via signal lag. At first it was just another incoming jumpship, but when the sensors confirmed it wasn’t Nestafar the fleet between the stars began to redeploy some of its ships to intercept.

But their sensors weren’t functioning properly…or rather their memory banks weren’t, so when some ships began to move out of their parking formation the maps the others had of the immediate area didn’t update, making all of the moving ships think they were the only one deploying. In reality some 38 ships had been ordered out from the edges and were repositioning to make tiny microjumps towards the enemy jumpship.

Flying blind as to where the others actually were they succeeded in leaving without incident, though a discussion over the comms quickly broke out with the commander of the fleet asking why none of his ships were moving. As they tried to sort that out, with the ships claiming to not only be moving, but the only ones moving, the Hycre jumpship released its school of warship ‘fish’ against the harsh glare of the yellow star, with them moving out towards the Nestafar ships that couldn’t see them coming, for their sensor data wasn’t being logged.

The jumpship itself began moving around the star in low orbit, heading for the approximate location of the scout ship and clearing the lane for the others coming in behind it. Those jumpships decelerated and stopped at a slightly higher altitude, all preplanned, so they wouldn’t risk colliding with each other. Using mathematical precision of the highest order, the ships dropped out some 100 km apart from one another like bread crumbs falling from some invisible hand moving out away from the star.

Each ship then descended further towards Orica C, releasing the warships it was carrying out of the entry corridor and proceeding to the ‘corral’ point with the others. All of the first wave of jumpships were Hycre, given that they had the best navigational programs and thus had the least risk of misjumping into the star at such close range. Originally their preplanned targets were at various planets and moons across the system, hunting down the Nestafar war fleets and leaving less threats to their allies which were behind them in the jump order, but with the scout ship’s update concerning the fleet a quarter revolution around the star they quickly adjusted their strategy.

The first few hundred Hycre warships clustered together and, after quickly finishing off the 38 ships the Nestafar had sent their way, they dove straight into the heart of the Nestafar fleet that couldn’t see them on sensors, thanks to the virus, and began shredding the enemy ships with their brilliant white plasma that appeared as dull streaks in the backlight of the two stars bracketing the battle.

All Nestafar weapons that relied on the ship’s sensors were rendered useless, and only those batteries that had line of sight capability returned fire. Missiles couldn’t be launched without targets, and without the computer-aided firing the gunners in the batteries had a hard time picking and hitting their distant targets…especially with the Hycre flying their typically evasive battle routes rather than standing still and slugging it out.

The ‘battle’ was a misnomer, given that it was a one-sided slaughter. The ever growing Hycre warfleet destroyed them all before the last of their jumpships arrived, then the school of ‘fish’ broke up into multiple groups and began making microjumps out to other locations, intent on getting to more of the Nestafar ships before their computers tracked down and eliminated the virus. How long that would take they didn’t know, but they certainly weren’t going to wait around for the rest of the Alliance fleet to arrive and squander part or all of their opportunity.

In all more than 2,000 Hycre jumpships arrived in one long convoy, decelerating against the star one at a time but only spaced a handful of seconds apart, after which there was a few minutes gap until the first Kvash battleship jumped in, with its tri-sphere hull small in comparison to the Hycre jumpships, but even smaller compared to the ‘starbases’ that followed, each of which was the size of 3 Hycre jumpships and carried not only a fleet of warships, but functioned as troop carrier, battle station, refueling depot, repair yard, and just about every other function imaginable.

The massive battleships moved into flanking positions, dwarfed by the starbases they were escorting, as each one jumped off to a different position in the system with unique targets. Normally a starbase was reserved for the assault of a heavily defended enemy system or the defense of a highly important Kvash one, but for this assault they’d brought not one, not two, but 17 starbases, underscoring just how important this assault was…and how infuriated they were by the Nestafar’s betrayal of the Alliance.

2

After the ‘small’ Kvash fleet arrived, the much larger Bsidd force started to pour in. Their gangly ships were as convoluted as their bodies, but the vaguely insectile race was the most technologically advanced within the Alliance, although not the strongest. The Hycre had superior gravity drives, the Kvash better shields, and the Calavari better starfighters…but it was the Bsidd that were overall the most balanced, and where the other three had weaknesses the Bsidd did not.

What they did have were numbers. Each of their ships were smaller than their Hycre counterparts, and all were manned, unlike Star Force’s small drone warships, which gave them a fleet of nimble, high tech craft that were faster than the Nestafar and equipped with weaponry befitting larger ships, giving them a more potent sting individually and a swarming capability that allowed them to take on more massive vessels.

With such numbers it took a long time to get all of their jumpships into the system, for they too were smaller than average. The assault on Orica was already 10 hours old by the time the last of them arrived, with the jumpships not disgorging the warships within, but rather jumping off to their target locations to deliver them up close and personal.

With the Hycre engaging the Nestafar’s mobile fleets, which were still mostly disabled by the Elarioni virus, the Bsidd moved out to 18 planetoids and began unloading their warships into large swarms out on the periphery of planetary orbit, after which they moved down the gravity well engaging the Nestafar battle stations with a mix of plasma and an energy weapon they referred to as a ‘disruptor’ that worked in a similar way to Star Force’s mauler, only with longer range and less effect on matter.

It did have a similar effect on shields, highly damaging the energy matrixes and penetrating them sooner than other weapons, after which their bright blue plasma would have a straight path to the hull armor. Each of their weapons was small in size, but they had many on each ship and all with decent range, allowing them to engage multiple smaller targets, like fighters, with ease, or they could group their fire together to hit larger targets, giving the Bsidd fleet a highly adaptive battle profile.

They did take losses, unlike the Kvash whose smallest ship in play was a heavy cruiser, but the Bsidd had so many ships that those that were lost were hardly noticeable. The Bsidd swarms moved methodically from one battle station to another, utterly tearing them to shreds while the Nestafar fleet that normally would have been supplementing the stations’ defense was being engaged by the Hycre elsewhere.

Halfway through the Bsidd assaults the battle stations were able to overcome the Elarioni virus, allowing their targeting programs to reassert themselves…at which point the number of Bsidd casualties began to climb, but their numbers were so great there was no stopping them as they moved throughout the orbital tracks of the planetoids they were assigned, wiping them clean of Nestafar infrastructure, both military and civilian, along with any cargo ships that hadn’t had the sense to run away when the fighting started.

The Kvash moved slower over their target worlds, overlapping fire and cycling out ships when their shield strength dipped near the breaking point. They had such a numerical superiority that they didn’t fancy on losing any ships, and set out a slow moving game plan to accommodate that outcome as they picked off more of the Nestafar battle stations with their heavy cruisers and battleships while their starbases offered fire support on the bigger targets, for the Nestafar had a wide range of defensive platforms, some of which were truly massive.

But they were stationary, which was their defining weakness. They were also scattered around orbit rather than clustered together, which let the Kvash and Bsidd isolate and pick them off in sequence thanks to the fact that the Hycre were doing such a good job engaging the Nestafar fleets elsewhere. In addition to the Elarioni virus, the mohawks were laying out a tactical display that would be studied for years to come by the Alliance member races, for they were single handedly sticking it to the Nestafar navally in more than 200 locations, not allowing their defense fleets to bunch up and mass attack the Kvash.

They also didn’t let them go after the Bsidd either. At first they didn’t have much choice, because the Nestafar warships couldn’t see where the attacking fleets were, or their own that were trying to reposition, and the Hycre used that advantage to blindside them, destroying more than a third of their defense fleet before the Nestafar computer programmers found and disabled the virus…some individually onboard ships at first, then a master cleansing protocol created and distributed from one of the planets in the system.

When the Nestafar finally got their ‘eyes’ open they found themselves under assault at dozens of planetoids, not to mention the interplanetary staging bases that were supposed to be hard to get to, given that they didn’t have a nearby gravity well to quickly brake against, meaning ships would have to approach slowly and use weakened gravity drives or convention thrust to arrive at the bases.

That would have been true of the Bsidd and Kvash, but with the Hycre’s binary drives they were able to push off the stars and head straight towards the outposts the Elarioni-stolen map had tagged and the scout ship had confirmed, traveling at speeds that none of the other races in the system could hope to brake against. All of them would have overshot the targets, but because the Hycre could push against the distant planets, same as the other races could, and slow their approach gradually, they were able to use that repulsion and the gravitational attraction back to the star they had just jumped from to double up their braking speed.

Only they, and now Star Force, had that oh so valuable ability, and it allowed them to get to the semi-hidden fleet bases and massacre the staging fleets there before the virus was counteracted. That meant the planetary defense fleets they were also engaging didn’t have the backup they expected, allowing the Hycre to engage them head on and tie them up so they couldn’t reposition to assist the battle stations that the other Alliance races were ‘pwning.’

That left the defense fleets over the worlds that the Alliance hadn’t hit yet as the only free ships to reposition, save for a handful of patrol fleets that the Hycre hadn’t gotten to. After a stretch of hesitation they all began redeploying to Vreen, one of the worlds that the Kvash were attacking with a single starbase and four battleships, plus a cluster of heavy cruisers. The Nestafar’s intent was to isolate it and take it out with massive numbers while the rest of the Alliance was engaged, even if it meant leaving their other worlds undefended, for they could clearly see they were getting overrun, and before long they wouldn’t have the fleet strength to take on the Kvash, after which point it’d all be over in space.

The winged Nestafar warships rendezvoused in high orbit over Vreen as the Kvash moved from on battle station to another, wiping them off the map with their indomitable firepower and superior defense shields. The Nestafar commanders wisely waited for some two hours to assemble their reinforcements before they moved out, dropping down into the lower orbits and engaging the Kvash battleships and heavy cruisers midway as they moved out to protect the starbase, hoping to make the Nestafar split their forces.

That didn’t happen, and the Nestafar blew right by the much larger Kvash ships, firing as they passed in a long chain that proved too much for the defender’s shields to handle. All four battleships’ shields fell under a brutal assault of green glowing missiles that were being released from the passing ships, none of whom stayed to slug it out. What damage the Kvash did to the Nestafar as they passed was little, given that they couldn’t target the same ship twice at the speeds they were moving.

In retrospect the Kvash should have kept their ‘smaller’ ships in close to the starbase, which was where the Nestafar fleet slowed down and began slugging it out at close range. Plasma streamers galore shot out from the Kvash supership, coring enemy warships with single shots, along with clouds of ‘blips’ pouring out from the white hull and moving to intercept the thousands of incoming missiles before they could hit the shields.

What followed was a massacre on both sides, for the Nestafar had the numbers to take the starbase down, but in doing so it cost them greatly. Neither the Bsidd nor Hycre were in a position to assist, for they were engaged with other Nestafar fleets across the system, so as the starbase resigned itself to destruction it launched a flotilla of landing craft out down towards the planet below, carrying the massive number of ground troops and equipment that were onboard, hoping that at least some of them would survive.

The Nestafar intercepted a few of the ships as they left, but given the almost kamikaze-like speeds they were accelerating at, most of the Kvash transports got away from the battle and down into the atmosphere, picking a position in between the heavily shielded Nestafar cities to land. All across the planet the Kvash sensors showed energy domes going up, marking the positions that would have to be assaulted from the ground in lieu of a massive orbital bombardment campaign that none of the three Alliance races were outfitted for.

As the Kvash transports began landing on an uninhabited grassy plain and spilling out their prefab construction units, they were able to look back up into the daytime sky and see the blocky star-shaped wedge that was the starbase as an internal explosion sheared off one of the arms and set it slowly adrift, along with a lot of other tiny pinprick explosions across the hull and the gray/black halo of Nestafar warships that surrounded it.

Knowing that help would eventually be on the way and that the Nestafar warships were ill suited for in-atmosphere operations, the Kvash ground team began implementing the battle plan they’d entered the system with. They picked five locations on the grassy plain, with four directional points around a central fifth, and began assembling the prefab structures they brought with them, using the transports to fly the material out to the various locations.

The structures came together quickly, given that all the Kvash had to do was move them into position and ‘click’ them together. As they did that, with the transports doubling as flying cranes to lift various pieces into position, Kvash fighters began to deploy from cargo containers and take to the sky in defensive patrol as swarms of Nestafar fighters began approaching their positions, having come from the nearest cities.

These fighters weren’t Valeries, but rather the Nestafar’s native designs, which the Kvash had battle simmed against numerous times. They were flat and tri-pointed, like a ninja’s throwing star, and moved extremely well on lateral angles, but less so in climbing and diving. They had minimal shields but very good hull armor, taking a cue from their walkers, but it also made them heavy and a touch slow.

The Kvash fighters were also heavy and slow, but that was because of the large amount of tech they’d squeezed into the confined space of their antler-shaped craft. A short pointed nose cone feathered back into four hull segments splaying out to aft, the middle two of which went high, and the outer two went low, offering weapons on all four to have a forward line of sight. The fighter was twice the size of the Nestafar’s Jennsa, but nearly as fast…which was to say slow by Alliance standards, but the Kvash didn’t like using the Valeries as much as some of the other races did, due to their easy ability to be shot down.

Or so the Kvash thought. The Valerie was a well-defended, nimble, fast fighter…but sticking to their rock mentality the Kvash version made the Calavari’s look easy to kill. The Kiach had thick hull armor surrounding the pilot’s pod, which like Star Force mech designs didn’t have a window to the exterior. It was thoroughly encased in multiple layers of protection, making for an ‘egg’ design within the fighter, around which the four hulls of the starfighter radiated. With the forward hull nose cone pointing out in front of it, it was almost impossible to directly target the pilot’s cradle, which allowed many downed Kvash pilots to walk away and fly another day.

But as thick as the armored layers were, the defense shields were extremely robust. From Star Force’s perspective the Kiach was more of a gunship than a fighter, and that’s how the Kvash used them. They didn’t even bother trying to outfly their opponents, preferring instead to arrange situations where they’d trade weaponsfire, with their superior defenses winning out.

That meant the Kiaches taking to the air over Vreen were worth several Nestafar Jennsas each, and the Kvash had packed plenty of them into the transports. The equally white fighters rose up into the sky by the bunches and fanned out, creating a wide perimeter around the construction field as the 5 outposts were beginning construction. That perimeter thickened considerably, then several tendrils of fighters shot off to intercept the incoming Jennsas before they could get over the landing area, inciting  three separate midair battles as Nestafar walkers within the nearby cities and further defense bases began assembling to await transport out to the new warzone.

The fighter combat slewed to the Kvash side, given that the Nestafar didn’t totally overwhelm them with numbers. A few of the Jennsa got through to make strafing runs on the construction crews and transports, but not enough to stop their progress, for there were so many transports on the ground or hovering in the air that the Nestafar had too many targets to choose from, and any damaged equipment was quickly replaced by others.

Eventually the starfighter battle thinned, but it didn’t abate, for the Nestafar continued sending reinforcements over from other cities, ensuring a continuing battle until the Kvash eventually lost to attrition…or so it seemed until the central construction site completed a partial power up and the battle fort began pumping out anti-air plasma blasts at the closest fighters and lachar-like beams at those further off.

That took care of the stragglers getting past the main melee, and soon the central battle fort raised its defense shields, claiming a tiny piece of Vreen for the Kvash and establishing the centerpiece in their strongpoint defense that would soon see four spurs added to it in the coming hours. Each battle fort was equipped with shields and weaponry capable of defending against the Nestafar walkers, including the super dragons, meaning that once the Kvash got set up on a world they were very difficult to remove.

The Nestafar knew this, which was why ground troops and fighters were being assembled from across the planet and shifted over to the landing zone as quickly as possible, hoping to take down some of the Kvash transports that were now taking cover beneath the battle fort’s anti-air defenses as they waited to unload their cargos. The starbase had been so large it held an insane number of troops, and even with the losses they suffered coming down to the planet there were still hundreds of thousands of Kvash sealed up inside waiting to be deployed…but they weren’t going to do so until they got a proper strongpoint established, else they’d risk losing their troops unnecessarily.

By keeping them in the transports they maintained the option of redeploying to another location or running away if this landing zone was overrun. So as more of the 5 battle forts came online, additional transports were ordered to unload their personnel and equipment to man and expand them, for they weren’t just stubby blocks of defenses, but rather Lego-like building segments that could be added to over time.

Take a small battle fort, add fully loaded transports and a healthy dose of time, and they’d see a plant-like growth that would eventually merge the central fort with the four spurs, creating a gigantic fortress whose combined shield power would be equivalent of the bubble shields protecting the Nestafar cities from bombardment.

If the Kvash got that far, then they will have secured a route of resupply from orbit, allowing even more troops to come down had they more ships waiting. They did not, for the other starbases were doing the exact same thing on other worlds. That said, once the Kvash opened the door to the surface the Bsidd’s weaker troops would follow them down, take up residence inside the mega fort, then begin deploying out with the Kvash to assault the surrounding cities.

Against one race the Nestafar could hold their own, but with all three Alliance races working together to overlap their strengths the Nestafar were at an extreme disadvantage in skill, tactics, and technology…but what they did have were numbers, for the system housed more than 8 trillion of the winged vermin, and their millions of cities were well defended, calling into question the Alliance’s ability to take more than one or two worlds.

And after that what would they do, with fleeing Nestafar ships carrying word out to nearby systems that Orica was under assault? They would eventually send reinforcements to oust the invaders, while the nearest Alliance worlds were months away.

At the moment that didn’t matter, for the fight that had been long in the making was finally here, with both sides hammering each other across the Orica System on a scale of warfare that had not been seen in millennia.

3

January 16, 2444

Orica System

Nestarraffa (Nestafar Homeworld)

It was the Bsidd who had been tasked with assaulting the Nestafar homeworld, and after taking several days to clean out its orbital tracks of every ship and station the enemy had built up, they began landing ground teams en mass, as they and the Kvash were doing on numerous other planets and moons across the system. The Hycre fleet, or rather what was left of it, was still moving about from planetoid to planetoid engaging the remains of the mobile Nestafar defenses, keeping their attention away from the Kvash and Bsidd while they focused on ground assaults.

Not every planetoid in the system was under assault, nor could they be given how many there were, but Nestarraffa had been chosen as one of the primary targets, thus it got tagged for the first round of assaults, with the Bsidd devoting more ships and troops towards it than any other location.

Unlike Vreen, Nestarraffa was a world covered in one unending cityscape, making landing troops more difficult, which was why the Bsidd had been chosen to hit it. Their battle plans didn’t call for establishing strongpoints and battle forts like the Kvash did, but rather in pouring an insane number of units down onto the planet and overwhelming the defenders with numbers and superior technology.

Trick of it was, the Nestafar had greater numbers on planet than the Bsidd could hope to counter, meaning they had to pick their targets…which in this case were the primary shield generators.

While the urban landscape covered the entire landlocked planet, the primary shields did not. Instead they covered large swaths of the city, leaving gaps where the Bsidd transports came down and began spilling out their own mutli-legged walkers while a battle for air superiority was taking place over the 184 landing zones.

Immediately upon being dropped by advance transports, the walkers skittered off through the narrow city streets in search of weapons batteries and secondary shield generators to hit, with Bsidd troops staying near the LZs and clearing out the surrounding buildings and establishing a perimeter within which to begin unpacking the larger transports. Out of those would come their flying fortresses, which were the equivalent of hovering battle forts shaped like a horseshoe. Tendrils appeared to grow out of the structure, then wrap around it in a bird nest-like motif that held a vast array of weapons, both for anti-air and against ground targets.

With the walkers leading the way and hitting key infrastructure around the LZs, thousands of the massive flying fortresses, each more than a kilometer wide, took off towards the primary shield generators, being escorted by scores of Bsidd-built Valeries that took on their standard blue/purple coloration. Working in consort, the formations fought their way to the edge of the nearest shield domes and began assaulting specific patches of it with choreographed disruptor strikes, trying to destabilize the shield segment enough to create a temporary opening.

A scattering of Nestafar walkers came out to oppose them, but they were limited by the geography of the city streets and were met with the powerful underside weaponry of the flying fortresses and gunned down easily. As the Nestafar quickly called off the meaningless assaults and began to pool their local defenses underneath the shield for a more sizeable counterattack, the Bsidd pounded the outer edge until a gap formed…then the disruptor fire spread out to the edges, holding the opening while one of the flying fortresses pushed through.

With it came a slew of Valeries that immediately engaged the fighters inside, for the dome itself had a radius of several hundred miles. With over 30 flying fortresses hammering the shield and keeping the breach open, dozens more passed through but the walkers and infantry did not. They could have gone underneath the outer edge where it met the building tops, for the Nestafar designs didn’t allow for it to drop all the way to the ground, but they didn’t, instead holding their position and protecting the flying fortresses as they kept the gap open long enough for the others to get inside.

After that the ones left outside retreated, along with the walkers, and headed back towards the LZ before breaking off and getting a head start towards another distant shield dome, with the walkers skittering rapidly through the streets to get to the target and passing by most of the Nestafar that were in the way.

As they redeployed the flying fortresses inside the first shield dome accelerated towards the generators at the center, letting the Valeries with them handle most of the anti-air duties, as well as flying ahead and scouting out larger defensive weapons that needed to be disabled before they could prove dangerous to the flying fortresses.

With a tempered pace the Bsidd fought their way across the interior, knocking out several large defense cannons that were designed for aerial defense against warships or transports had the Bsidd been stupid enough to fly overhead, and eventually got to the dome’s center where the shield generators themselves were protected by a secondary shield, which they began assaulting en mass.

Once the enemy fighters within the dome had been destroyed the Bsidd Valeries added their small firepower to the attack, flying low on the streets and undershooting the bottom edge of the shield in some cases, but mostly providing support against Nestafar infantry that was deploying in a defensive perimeter. Their scatterguns proved most effective in knocking them down, but killing them had never been the objective.

Eventually the secondary shield succumbed to the firepower of over 100 flying fortresses, allowing the secondary generators to be targeted and destroyed…thus exposing the well-armored primaries. It took longer to knock them out, but down they eventually came, exposing the city beneath to aerial attack.

But the flying fortresses and remaining Valeries didn’t stay, instead they too began to retreat, ignoring the valuable infrastructure below them that now lay open to assault. They didn’t even bother to destroy the scattering of other small secondary shield generators that were now popping up in place of the primary over key buildings. The Bsidd simply turned around and flew off, leaving the cityscape exposed.

They repeated the same process over the coming days, assaulting the shield domes, creating a gap, then sending their flying fortresses and fighters in to destroy the generators, after which they ignored the Nestafar cities, moving about stripping off their defenses one after another. Ironically the Nestafar’s heavy walkers did them little good on the city streets where they were unable to bunch up and concentrate their firepower. They were left scattered and isolated, allowing the Bsidd to pick them off from the air with their heavy weapons on the flying fortresses when they so chose.

The Nestafar did try and gather their strength to assault the LZs, which quickly became rubble fields. When that happened the walkers regained some of their advantage, crawling over the downed buildings in what eventually looked like a large grained sandbox, but they were unable to penetrate to the center of the LZs with the Bsidd walkers, smaller, faster, and in greater number, chewing apart the heavily armored Nestafar versions after the Valeries and flying fortresses busted them up from above.

Once again the Nestafar’s aerial weakness came back to haunt them, for the Bsidd were far more capable on the ground than the Calavari, and they had access to the Valeries that complimented the flying fortresses very well. Not even the anti-air defensive cupolas on the ground were able to do much against the Bsidd, for the Valeries flew in low at building height and popped the turrets beneath their minimum depression range where they could, while going after the others with walkers.

The sheer number of Nestafar on the planet made it a pitched fight, with high casualties on both sides, but the Bsidd clearly had the advantage, merely having to work through every stage of the assault while the Nestafar continually tried and failed to counter them. After several different tactical maneuvers the Nestafar resorted to an all on infantry assault, rousing the native inhabitants to the air on their own wings and rushed the LZs, providing more targets than the Bsidd could fire at.

That desperate and suicidal tactic actually worked, with the Nestafar getting inside the Bsidd’s defensive perimeter and attacking the staging areas and landing craft on ‘foot,’ though in their case it was flying over the debris, using their wings to avoid the rough terrain and bring their handheld weapons in close to the insect-like Bsidd, whose own infantry met them amongst the grounded ships.

What followed was wholesale slaughter on both sides. The Bsidd skittered around on their multiple appendages, firing blue plasma orbs from ‘wrist’ launchers and weathering some of the Nestafar’s own red plasma with thorax shields, both physical and energy…but there was so many Nestafar that they quickly wore down and the casualties began to mount.

The Nestafar got inside every open door they could find, trying to disable or take control of the ships, walkers, and aircraft in the LZ, including some of the flying fortresses that were hovering over the engagement and laying waste to the Nestafar by the hundreds per second as they fired into the clouds of flapping wings with their plasma and disruptors. Body parts rained down on the Bsidd below, making for a landscape of total horror, but neither side so much as blinked, for both were totally committed to the assault…the Nestafar in defense of their homeworld, and the Bsidd out of vengeance for their former ally’s betrayal.

The Bsidd assault wings out taking down the Nestafar shield domes didn’t turn back, allowing whatever happened at the LZs to work itself out while they stayed on mission. Unlike Star Force or the Kvash, the Bsidd operated off a military strategy that allowed for losing massive amounts of troops to achieve victory. They weren’t so casual about the deaths of their own as the lizards were, but the lengths of sacrifice they were willing to go to in order to achieve their most important objectives was both awe inspiring and gut wrenching at the same time.

Partway through the LZ counter assaults, which were happening simultaneously across the planet, a few small Hycre warships came down from orbit and punched their way into the Nestafar infantry clouds, ramming some of them into hot goo while torching others with their plasma cannons at pointblank range…but still the Nestafar didn’t flee, instead they were being continually reinforced as more of the ‘civilian’ population kept flying towards the LZs armed with hand weapons, which in some cases were merely blades.

Up in orbit more Hycre ships were arriving, following on the heels of Nestafar warships that began redeploying from other planets, leaving them undefended in order to come to the aid of their homeworld. The growing fleet in orbit was already engaging the Bsidd and pushing them to the limit, which the Hycre realized and began diverting a scattering of ships their way from other current engagements. That made it harder for the Hycre fleets which were donating some of their ships to win the battles they were already engaged in, but they weren’t going to let the Bsidd over Nestarraffa or any of the other worlds be wiped out, and the same went for the Kvash.

The Hycre had no ground troops in the fight, which made them almost obsessive about protecting the other races’ fleets in space. They were overextending themselves, they knew, which would result in them losing even more ships, but for them it was a matter of honor, and they countered every unexpected Nestafar naval tactic by pulling the burden upon their own fleets, leaving their allies with the same basic battle plan as they’d discussed prior to the invasion.

Them sending ships down to the surface was an act of desperation and ego, for while they were a naval power only, that power did extend down through the atmosphere if and when they chose, so when it appeared that the Bsidd might be losing their LZs to the unexpected mass infantry assault the Hycre put it on themselves again to change the course of battle.

They couldn’t respond quickly, given that they were bringing ships in from other planets, but the LZ assaults weren’t exactly surprise attacks either. They were a Starship Troopers affair, with the Bsidd holding out as long as they could against an unending stream of Nestafar over the span of hours that then stretched into days.

Rather than sit and watch while their homeworld was being invaded, the native Nestafar from around the planet were being called out to fight and were responding in huge numbers that only a flying race could muster, for as they rose up out of their dwellings they bunched together like a swarm of insects that grew continually larger, then began travelling across hundreds of kilometers, picking up more numbers as they went, turning the skies over the planet into living rivers all emptying out on the Bsidd LZs.

It got so bad that on the third day one of the Kvash starbases repositioned itself into orbit and began dropping reinforcements down to the planet. Their fighters replaced the Bsidd ones who had run out of fuel and crashed, for they couldn’t access the facilities at the LZs for resupply and they didn’t attempt a run up to orbit because they were so overwhelmed with easy targets all they could think of was point and shoot…and shoot…and shoot.

The flying fortresses were another matter, with ample fuel to stay aloft for as long as the Nestafar had suicidal troops to throw at them. With the debris-strewn ground now covered with an ever thickening layer of bodies, the Kvash had to land well away from the LZ in order to find clear space in which to deploy their own infantry…each of which was a battle pod slightly larger than a Nestafar protomech.

Star Force had nicknamed them ‘metroids’ after the power suit Samus Aran wore in the video games, for they had a ‘ball’ mode and a mech configuration. When in ball mode they floated above the surface, acting like a low level aircraft that kept to within 100 meters of the ground. When in mech mode the metroid would sprout a head, arms, and legs that loosely mimicked their pilot’s physiology.

All Kvash infantry were metroids, making them the most robust in all of the Alliance, even more so than the Archons…though some of the trailblazers would dispute that, given their psionic abilities that could cripple the metroid’s pilot. When they began spilling out of their own landing zone they immediately deployed into ball mode and shot off across the cityscape towards the ongoing battle, diving into the Nestafar flows and shooting them down with the single weapon that ball mode afforded them.

When they got to the body mounds that were now the Bsidd LZ they dropped to the ground into mech mode, finding the scattering of clean areas where the few remaining Bsidd troops were holding out. They’d been excavating the body parts like dirt and forming them into barricade mounds, using equipment onboard the transports or even the transports themselves to mash aside the piles.

When the first of the metroids arrived they set their legs down on charred rubble and began firing up into the clouds and drawing the Nestafar’s attention away from the cowering Bsidd. The metroids’ shields absorbed a torrent of plasma all the while the armored infantry shot down many more of their pathetic Nestafar counterparts, taking cover underneath the several horseshoes hovering above whom were all but impervious to the enemy’s infantry weapons.

From there on out the battles continued, with the Kvash only able to reinforce some of the LZs. Those that they did held out, somehow, while the others were eventually overrun. Some of the transports managed to flee, but others were boarded or damaged during the fighting, with a small percentage of the Nestafar infantry coming to the fight carrying explosives or rocket launchers, though it was nearly impossible to tell who had what in such a massive swarm.

The LZs that held eventually thinned out the opposition, then pushed back the engagement zone to a perimeter that allowed reinforcements to start coming down again, not in the form of troops but of supplies, in particular ammo replacements, for plasma didn’t manifest itself without a matter component, and those reserves on the flying fortresses had to be refilled occasionally as they continued to puncture shield dome after shield dome while ignoring most of the attacks being thrown at them by the infantry in those areas.

The battles across the planet lasted for well over a month before the Bsidd had all the shield generators knocked down, after which they began recalling their troops to the LZs that were still under assault by the infantry flowing in from far reaching corners of the planet. The Kvash with occasional Hycre support from low flying warships held the handful of LZs that remained long enough for the Bsidd to pull out their flying fortresses and Valeries that remained, after which the Kvash also removed their troops, seeming to flee the planet.

Fleeing yes, but not conceding. Once all Alliance personnel was cleared off the surface, numerous Bsidd jumpships moved into low orbit and began launching spherical objects down to the surface by the thousands. Each one of which was a tactical warhead pinpointing a specific surface grid. In horrifying mathematical precision, rows of impact points blossomed on the surface, destroying the tiny buildings in massive concussion waves, along with the Nestafar population still inside.

When one row of a sector was completed the orbs began stitching the adjacent rows, one after another, methodically carpeting the entire surface of the Nestafar homeworld with impact craters. The Alliance didn’t intend to capture the planet, nor did they invite a surrender. They were here for one purpose and one purpose only…to wipe out the Nestafar as they had been attempting to wipe out the Calavari.

And what was occurring on Nestarraffa wasn’t an isolated occurrence, for the Bsidd repeated the orbital bombardment on every other planet the Alliance was fighting on once their ground troops succeeded in stripping the Nestafar of their defense shields. When the primary worlds were hit and destroyed, the remaining Alliance troops took to the secondary targets, all the while the Hycre fleet fought off the incoming Nestafar reinforcements from other systems as they dribbled in.

The massacre of the Orica system did not occur quickly, taking more than a year to run its course, and the Alliance fleet that finally left the now dead system was a tiny fraction of what it had been at the outset, but it had accomplished its purpose and the survivors left victorious on their long trip back to Calavari territory, where they split up and began their equally long trips back to their respective territories…all the while the war between the Nestafar and Calavari continued on oblivious in most systems, for that was the nature of interstellar warfare. One system didn’t know what was happening in another as it was occurring, but word of what happened would slowly spread from ship to ship and race to race.

The name Orica would become synonymous with ‘betrayal,’ ‘vengeance,’ and ‘annihilation,’ but to the Archons it would come to mean something altogether different…putting the final nail in the Alliance coffin, as far as the Humans were concerned.

4

March 19, 2446

Nevarsor System

Namek

Paul sat staring at the hologram of the Bsidd jumpships bombarding Nestarraffa and annihilating the population with his jaw clenching in anger. He’d been reviewing the battle data that the Alliance had transmitted to them via the relay network for the past 3 days, massive as it was, and only now had he gotten to the crux of their strategy. They hadn’t gone to Orica to cripple the Nestafar’s shipyards or to destroy their warfleet or to hinder their economy…they’d gone to outright slaughter the enemy.

That didn’t sit well with Paul, and a message from Jason that had come along with the data packet through their own interstellar relay link out to Namek had suggested as much. He’d told Paul what he thought of the assault, in exquisite detail, as had several other trailblazers in forwarded comments, but rather than skip ahead Paul had decided to work through the year-long invasion chronologically and was only now coming to the civilian slaughter.

The Bsidd’s battle tactics were bad enough, wasting personnel when they had the technology to adopt either the Kvash’s or Star Force’s approach, but laying waste to the Nestafar homeworld was going too far. The Alliance hadn’t been fighting to defend themselves or to neutralize the enemy, they’d gone there to kill them. And while Paul was pleased to see the Nestafar get kicked in the proverbial nuts, this was not a battle plan that he ever would have signed onto, and he was disappointed and disturbed that the Hycre had.

The Kvash had also participated in the bombardment, not of Nestarraffa, but of the other worlds…though Paul hadn’t gotten that far yet. Jason’s notes had indicated they were just as methodical about wiping out the Nestafar as the Bsidd were, showing their true colors as well. From the beginning Star Force had known little about most of the races in the Alliance, but from reading their available histories something had always been amiss with those two, and now it was clear that neither race could be trusted.

Star Force had little contact with either of them, given their territories were on the other side of the Alliance, with both the Hycre and Calavari between them…and it was going to stay that way, for the unanimous assessment amongst the trailblazers that had chimed in on the data packet and the subsequent message updates coming through the relay grid about it, which Paul would be adding to shortly, was that the Bsidd and Kvash were now on their own against the lizards. Star Force wasn’t going to come to the aid of such a dishonorable race, so while in appearance they were both part of the Alliance, the trailblazers were no longer considering them to be allies.

If the Kvash and Bsidd could do what they did to the Nestafar, then they could do it to anyone else they considered an enemy, for they had no honor. Killing the enemy because you had no choice was altogether different from having their lives in the palm of your hand and choosing to crush them when you were in full control. There was a great difference between defeating a civilization and annihilating one, and what the Alliance had just done had been the latter.

Paul unclenched his jaw and sat back, watching the bombs fall from orbit and obliterate swaths of the holographic planet’s surface on a scale that no nuke could ever touch. Not even Star Force could make warheads of that caliber, and even as Paul watched the horror of it all he wondered if the Bsidd had a tactical missile version that could be used against, say, a Kvash starbase if they wished. He mentally cataloged the possibility, in case Star Force and the Bsidd ever found themselves at odds, but given the distances between their respective territories he doubted that would ever happen.

The lizards would probably wipe them out first.

Paul watched through the conclusion of the bombardment of the Nestafar homeworld, then left the room to get some air. He eventually ended up down on Balboa Lane with a handful of other Archons and summoned up a punching bag target off to the side in the huge chamber so as not to interfere with those running obstacle courses.

He proceeded to lightly pound the target with punches and kicks, slowly escalating up to more powerful hits as he bled off his anger, allowing his mind to process more smoothly. This wasn’t the Alliance he’d thought they’d joined, nor was it an Alliance they were going to remain part of, for they certainly weren’t going to participate or condone any such barbarism, but it made him wonder just how many of the other races would.

He doubted the Calavari would, but the fact that the Hycre had sat by and watched as the Bsidd and Kvash obliterated non-military targets now had him questioning all of their allies, some of which they’d gained considerable influence with. At last count there were 32 races that made up the Alliance, with all of the Nestafar’s allies having been abandoned by their betrayal and staying with the overall group, such as the Protovic. A few new races had been added since the summit where the Alliance had officially been forged, but the main players were still the same…the Calavari, Kvash, Hycre, and Bsidd.

Star Force’s stature had grown, but they still weren’t first tier within the Alliance. Paul knew that many races would now follow the Bsidd’s and Kvash’s lead, emulating their slaughter. Even the more sensible races, put under the strains of war, could cave to the barbarism being displayed unless there remained a beacon of honor present to show them that there was another way. The Calavari had held that position within the Alliance, but now as their civilization was shrinking and their military might weakening they clearly didn’t hold the influence they once had, otherwise the Bsidd, Kvash, and Hycre would have included them in the assault on Orica…even if it was just on a symbolic level.

The Alliance was already fracturing, and Paul feared it would devolve into a barbaric fight for survival rather than stand as a united front against barbarism. Most people, he knew, would trade their principles for survival, and Humans right up there among the other races. Star Force wouldn’t, because the Archons and Davis wouldn’t…or at least the trailblazers wouldn’t, and now that Paul thought about it he couldn’t say the same for all the Archons, especially the younger ones. They mimicked those that had come ahead of them, following their lead just as he feared the other races would follow the Bsidd and Kvash’s example.

Take the trailblazers and the other experienced Archons out of the equation and what would Star Force be? Take Davis out and what would it become? Paul knew that he’d never turn to barbarism in order to survive, and trusted the other trailblazers were the same. He knew they were the same, but they were only 100 out of trillions of individuals across Alliance territory. Unfortunately most people’s true colors were not golden. They were either blank slates that could go either way based on those around them or they were selfish, greedy, unscrupulous bastards just waiting for an opportunity to stab you in the back to advance themselves.

Then again, he wondered how many more individuals out there were like him. His true colors had always been golden, but before he’d joined Star Force he didn’t understand much of anything. It was only after learning and growing did his true colors fully manifest themselves, before which he’d been in sort of a protective cocoon, going along with the flow of society until he figured out who he really was and began customizing his own life accordingly.

If there wasn’t a beacon of hope, a shining light for other younglings out there to see, how many good people would stay in their cocoons, prisoners of their own societies for the simple, inescapable reason that they’d never seen anything different on which to pattern themselves on…or those like Paul that had just needed a wakeup call to ignite his own core nature. He’d seen firsthand how Earth had changed due to Star Force over the past 400 years, and while there were still bad elements there, the masses had shifted to a more enlightened state…but take away Star Force and he knew it wouldn’t sustain. It’d devolve back towards barbarism and tyranny.

Which was why he couldn’t let this pass.

Paul spent the next four hours in Balboa Lane, punching and kicking his way to a conclusion…along with scuffed knuckles. When he sent the target back into its wall niche he left the sanctum and boarded a dropship, taking him up to orbit where he commandeered one of the warships and jumped out of the system a few hours later enroute to the nearest Hycre colony in the expansion zone.

Three weeks later…

When the Star Force warship decelerated against the yellow/orange star of the Cadathi System it entered a system that contained only two planets, both of them gas giants that had a total of 56 moons between them. All were rocky with little to no atmosphere, but they did make plotting jumps more hazardous. Fortunately Star Force had already been to this system and updated their ever growing galactic map, so that they knew the orbital placements of each of the gravity wells before making their microjump out to the larger of the two gas giants…after using their gravity drives’ acquisition programing to verify that there was gravity pulling from where it was supposed to.

Without any navigational hiccups the warship jumped into high orbit around the gas giant, which was so massive it would have become a star were it not for the fact that it didn’t contain much hydrogen. The core of the planet was solid, in fact, probably a collection of a few moons that had fallen into the nitrogen/sulfur dioxide sphere. Around it was a hardened layer of the ‘gas’ itself, having been compressed into solid form. Further out from it was a liquid ocean, also due to the pressures involved, but beyond that tiny core the rest of the massive planet was gas…very, very hot gas.

Which was how the Hycre liked it. Paul knew they had habitats down inside the planet’s faded yellow clouds, but the ship’s telaris sensors could only detect the uppermost few. Bright white bands of clouds stretched across the upper atmosphere like claw marks on the otherwise monotone planet that was entirely unsuitable for Humans, but was a garden spot for the Hycre who didn’t even need environmental suits to move about in the atmosphere.

To do that the winds needed to be low, which they were according to the planetary data he had available, but only at certain altitudes. The white streaks were evidence of higher velocities and currents, making the gaseous planet a geographical maze in that it had to be viewed in 3D as opposed to a flat map.

That didn’t matter to Paul, for there was nowhere down in the clouds for him or the warship to go. The sulfuric acid alone would eat the paint off the hull if the shields weren’t raised, and Paul found it odd that the Hycre’s bloated bodies didn’t respond to it in a negative fashion. To them it was no more harmful than a cloud of fog or a rain shower, making the world below Paul’s warship truly an alien environment.

The Hycre were also a truly alien race, but they’d found common ground with the Humans in several areas of commerce and warfare, all starting with the navally dominant race coming to Star Force’s aid on Corneria centuries ago. Their willingness to help an unknown neighbor had spoken well about them and their intentions, but now Paul was wondering if he’d misread their alien nature and truly wished he could get within a few meters of one so he could poke around inside its head, but given their varied life support necessities that wasn’t going to happen here.

So he was going to have to get his answers the old fashioned way, using guile, intelligence, and diplomacy…the first step of which was not to make immediate contact upon arrival. Instead he had the warship maneuver down into low orbit, beneath the myriad of moons into a clean orbital track that gave them a good sensor view of the spacebound Hycre infrastructure.

There were a dozen different stations in planetary orbit, plus many more circling individual moons. The rocky planetoids were being mined by the Hycre in their awkward fashion, though Paul noted that two of the mining colonies were using Star Force equipment. He recognized the largely automated drilling machines from the catalog of products that the megacorporation offered to buyers from other races, but this was the first such use he’d seen the Hycre make of them and wondered just how much better they were performing than the other sites.

Amongst the stations and mining colonies there were 100 or so ships moving about planetary orbit, and he guessed there was at least half again that amount around the other gas giant. Both planets were habitable by Hycre standards, but the one below him now was the more desirable one and had been the first to be colonized some 120 years ago, which is why Paul had chosen to come here.

He let his warship sit in orbit, watching as two Hycre cruisers and a scattering of corvettes traced their lazy orbits around the planet at various locations, none of which moved to intercept the Human ship. They were longtime allies and friends, with a level of comfortability between the races given the fact that they shared a few star systems, and even though this wasn’t one of them there was no animosity on either side resulting from their arrival.

Paul held position in orbit for several hours before the Hycre finally made contact with them, asking their purpose here and offering any assistance should they require it. In response Paul politely demanded that he speak with the senior-most Hycre in the system, of which contained some 3 billion of them, though Star Force had never been able to confirm those numbers. When his comm channel got switched over to a mid-level administrator he refused to discuss anything with them, holding out with his original demand.

It wasn’t until he identified himself as the Star Force naval Supreme Commander did he get the response he wanted, though that title was more for their benefit. The Hycre had never quite understood the Humans’ lack of hierarchy within their military, so Paul had found it best at times to translate his standing into terms they could understand…though Roger and Liam would have raised an eyebrow at that particular title.

Shortly thereafter a holographic transmission came through, as opposed to the standard audial comm that had to be computer translated into English. As Paul stood up from his command chair on the bridge a large hologram of the mohawked gas bag appeared before him in actual size, which was akin to a small car.

SPEAK SUPREME COMMANDER.

Paul stared back at the eyeless creature, knowing that it perceived the world around it through its skin, including some level of visual information, giving it its own spherical sight.

“Tell me what you know of what transpired in the Orica System.”

5

“Unacceptable,” Paul said firmly, though that firmness was probably lost in the translation program so he focused solely on the words he was using. “If we are fighting the Cajdital because they are barbaric and unable to be negotiated with, then we cannot be the same.”

THEY BEGAN THIS WAR. SO DID THE NESTAFAR. WE ARE NOT THE SAME.

“We are if we do not have a code of conduct.”

SUCH A CODE IS A LUXURY IN WAR. SOMETIMES IT MUST BE ABANDONED TO DO WHAT IS NECESSARY FOR SURVIVAL. WE ARE NOT ALONE IN THIS. YOU ALSO PURGE THE CAJDITAL.

“We have taken both Cajdital and Nestafar prisoner. The Cajdital kill themselves when they are taken captive and cannot find a way to further harm us. The Nestafar do not. Despite this fact we still offer the option of surrender to the Cajdital. The Alliance never made an offer in Orica, not even once, on one world. What you, the Bsidd, and the Kvash did was outright slaughter them. That is not something Star Force can condone.”

WHAT IS DONE IS ALREADY DONE. YOUR APPROVAL IS NOT REQUIRED.

“True,” Paul admitted. “The events at Orica are fixed, but Star Force’s future relations with the Alliance and the Hycre are not.”

WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU ASKING OF US?

“We cannot let ourselves become butchers, no matter what the circumstances. That goes for Human, Hycre, and every other race in the Alliance.”

BUT THAT IS PRECISELY WHAT YOU HAVE BECOME WITH THE CAJDITAL. THEY GIVE YOU NO CHOICE BUT TO SLAUGHTER THEM, AND WISELY YOU DO.

“There is a difference between neutralizing threats and killing those who cannot fight back. Every lizard settlement we’ve razed from orbit had the capability to grow to the point where it could produce warships and weapons that could be turned against us. If we left it alone it would come back to hurt us later. The Cajdital have no civilians. They have no children. They are genetically engineered and grown on demand with inborn knowledge of who and what they are expected to be. Their individuality has been suppressed to the point they’re practically zom…they’re living weapons.”

“We have been trying to find a way to negotiate with them, but with very little success. Every individual we’ve encountered has been fully committed to their race’s goals and our destruction, but we haven’t let that change us and the way we fight. We kill them when we have to, but their overall destruction is not one of our goals. Neutralizing the threat they pose is.”

BY YOUR OWN ADMISSION NEUTRALIZING THE THREAT WILL REQUIRE WIDESPREAD SLAUGHTER BECAUSE THEY WILL NOT ALLOW ANOTHER OPTION.

“Possibly, but we haven’t given up looking for alternatives…and I didn’t come here because of your battles with the Cajdital. The Nestafar are the matter at hand. You had options with them, and you chose slaughter. That is the problem.”

IF YOU HAVE SEEN THE BATTLE DATA THEN YOU KNOW THE ORBITAL BOMBARDMENT WAS NOT UNDERTAKEN BY THE HYCRE.

“No it wasn’t, but you had to know the battle plan before the invasion began, which meant you were ok with it.”

NEITHER I NOR ANY OTHER IN THIS SYSTEM WAS PRIVY TO THOSE PLANS. WE CANNOT ANSWER THAT QUESTION FOR YOU.

“I didn’t think you could, but you’re the closest Hycre I have to talk to.”

WHAT DO YOU PLAN TO ACHIEVE WITH THIS CONVERSATION?

“An understanding,” Paul stated flatly. “Star Force holds to a code of conduct, and we expect our allies to do the same, otherwise they’re not worth being allies. To date I’ve not been disappointed by the Hycre, but now I am and I’ve begun to wonder if this was an isolated incident or a part of Hycre methodology that I was previously unaware of. You should be able to address that.”

YOU SEEK COMMON GROUND NOW WHERE YOU HAD PREVIOUSLY ASSUMED THERE TO BE?

“Yes. I seek confirmation or clarification.”

A REASONABLE REQUEST. ASK YOUR QUESTIONS.

“Do the Hycre seek to eradicate the Nestafar for their betrayal of the Alliance?”

WE SEEK PUNISHMENT, NOT ERADICATION.

“What is your idea of punishment?”

THERE ARE MANY OPTIONS. FORFEITURE OF TERRITORY AND TECHNOLOGY IS STANDARD.

“Define technology.”

SHIPS AND WEAPONS.

“Have the Hycre ever eradicated a planetary population?”

TWICE.

“Explain the circumstances.”

INTERNAL CONFLICTS.

Paul frowned. “They were Hycre?”

YES.

That was disturbing…and yet it made sense, given that the Hycre didn’t have ground troops to assault worlds with, nor an ability to bombard a planet from orbit. That’s why they’d coopted Star Force for several assaults on the lizards.

The disturbing part was that they were capable of doing so, especially to their own people. That told Paul that given the right circumstances they could do it again if they weren’t opposed to the tactic itself.

“Why were your people killed rather than punished?”

SOME DIFFERENCES ARE TOO GREAT TO ACCOMMODATE.

“I need further explanation on that point.”

THEY WERE TRAITORS. WE MAY PUNISH OTHER RACES FOR THEIR ACTIONS, BUT WE HOLD OUR OWN PEOPLE TO HIGHER STANDARDS. THEY SOUGHT REBELLION AND HAD TO BE EXTERMINATED.

That was not what Paul wanted to hear, but it was important information none the less.

“We are not in a position to punish the Bsidd or Kvash for what they did, but we consider what happened at Orica worthy of punishment. As you pointed out, the Hycre did not participate in the bombardment itself, but the fact that you aided in the assault that set up the bombardment, and the fact that you didn’t stop it when it occurred, puts your honor into question.”

“The Bsidd and Kvash are far from here, but Star Force and the Hycre share territory, and this system is largely protected by us as we hold the Cajdital in this area at bay. Ever since our two races met when you came to our aid we have trusted you, but Orica has shaken that trust. Should the Hycre attempt to do the same again, with a Star Force fleet in the same system, our ships will intervene to stop you…so it’s very important that we come to terms now before such a situation can occur.”

YOUR WORDS BORDER ON THREAT AND WARNING, BUT I SEE THE WISDOM IN THEM. OUR RACES DO SHARE BURDENS, AND AS SUCH WE NEED TO UNDERSTAND ONE ANOTHER. I WILL OFFER WHAT EXPLANATIONS I CAN, BUT I CANNOT SPEAK FOR THOSE OUTSIDE THIS SYSTEM. IF YOU SEEK TREATY TERMS I CANNOT SIGN THEM.

“But can you negotiate them in principle?”

SO LONG AS THEY ARE UNBINDING.

“Only unbinding terms would be acceptable, given that we are not aware of each other’s actions the majority of the time.”

YOU DO NOT SEEK REPERCUSSIONS FOR FUTURE ACTIONS THEN?

“I seek an understanding between us, so that if one day Star Force must sever ties with the Hycre it will not be a surprise to either side.”

YOU RELY ON US MORE THAN WE RELY ON YOU. SUCH A SEVERING WOULD BE TO YOUR DISADVANTAGE.

Paul smiled. “That is exactly what I am referring to. You are assuming that our primary motivation is to seek out advantage. It is not. Our first priority is to the truth and to honor…not honor in the form of reputation or status, but in morality.”

YOU SAY YOUR PRIMARY, THEN YOU NAME TWO ITEMS. A PRIMARY MUST ONLY BE ONE.

“Honor is linked to the truth, and cannot be attained through a lie. The truth is rarely acknowledged by those without honor, for they lie to attain their own advantages. In this way the two concepts are intrinsically linked, yet they are separate words for us.”

WHILE TRANSLATIONAL DIFFICULTIES COULD BE AT FAULT, YOUR WORDS MIMIC THOSE OF THE CALAVARI. THEY TOO SPEAK OFTEN OF HONOR AND LINK IT TO STRENGTH. WE ARE NOT IN DISAGREEMENT WITH THEM. WE ARE NOT IN DISAGREEMENT WITH YOU. BUT WE PUT THE NEEDS OF OUR OWN PEOPLE ABOVE THOSE OF OTHERS. WE HAVE NOT ENCOUNTERED A RACE THAT HAS DONE OTHERWISE.

“To me, every race is my people. You are my brothers, same with the Calavari, the Nestafar, the Cajdital, the Kiritas, and others. Even the primitive races that we cannot communicate with are our brothers, right down to the insects that we accidentally step on…” Paul hesitated, remembering that the Hycre don’t ‘step’ on anything. “Even the small, seemingly insignificant lifeforms that most races see as beneath them or as their property. All are living, and therefore my brothers. I can communicate more easily with my own race, given our similarities, as I can communicate more easily with warriors than I can pacifists.”

“And just as I can communicate with you in naval terms better than any other race. Similarities enhance communication, differences hinder it, but all are my brothers, all are my people, and all are my concern…including the Nestafar in Orica who the Alliance slaughtered.”

“That is why I will side with those who are in the right, above and beyond my own race. Doing what is right is the definition of honor. If Humans are in the wrong I will side against them, even if it means my race’s destruction. My ‘people’ are those who hold honor as the highest priority and those that speak the truth, regardless of their race, and it is with them that I will side…always.”

THIS IS WHY YOU ARE NOT CARNIVORS?

“Yes.”

THE CALAVARI DO NOT HOLD HONOR AS YOU DO. THEY CONSUME THE FLESH OF OTHERS.

“In a small amount, yes, and they are in the wrong for it. Not for the consumption, but for the killing. But even they have nearly abandoned the practice because of the logistics. Large civilizations cannot rely on a food source that in itself consumes food, particularly not where land space is limited. Honorable foodstuff production is more efficient and reliable.”

WE CONCUR.

“I am curious,” Paul said, going slightly off topic, “are there other lifeforms in the planets you inhabit, or is it just the Hycre that are present?”

MOST OF OUR WORLDS ARE SOLELY OURS, BUT THERE ARE A FEW WITH INDIGENOUS LIFEFORMS. WE DO NOT CONSUME THEM. WE DO NOT COMMUNICATE WITH THEM. THEY ARE IRRELEVANT AND WE IGNORE THEM.

“There are many on our worlds, and we ignore most of them…but we also take care not to harm them, save for when the harming is unavoidable. We don’t like it when it occurs, and we usually find ways around it, but in clogged ecosystems it is almost impossible to fly through the atmosphere without running into something. We don’t intentionally do it, but when you can’t communicate with the insects in the air, you can’t tell them where to stay away from.”

“The more advanced the race the more options one has, but the inescapable fact is that the universe is chaos. We can either participate in it or rebuff it. The honorable rebuff it, which is what I am doing now. Rebuffing the chaos in Orica and everywhere else in the war zones where it might also be occurring.”

YOUR POINT IS TAKEN.

“Is it? I want you to understand clearly that not only do we not condone such action, but that we will fight against those that take it. We can’t stop what happened in Orica, but if the Alliance does it in the presence of a Star Force fleet we’re not just going to stand by and watch like you did. We’re going to take action, even if it means fighting our own allies, for we will stand against the chaos.”

“To date we’ve haven’t had a problem with the Hycre, but our good relationship won’t stop us from doing what’s right if you should choose to go down that path. Do you understand the implications of what I’m saying?”

YOUR MEANING IS CLEAR, BUT YOUR ACTIONS ARE CONTRADICTORY. EXPLAIN YOUR HONOR REGARDING THE CAJDITAL, FOR IT SEEMS YOU HAVE ABANDONED IT IN THE NAME OF NECESSITY.

Paul suppressed a frown, knowing ahead of time that this was going to be a sticking point. He didn’t like the way they were dealing with the lizards, but so far the enemy hadn’t given them much choice, and until he or one of the other trailblazers figured out a better way to deal with them they were going to have to keep killing them by the droves or see their territory encroach on theirs…at which point numerous worlds would be put at greater risk.

“We have no problem with killing,” Paul began. “We know that most people in the universe are not honorable. If they were we wouldn’t have chaos, or we wouldn’t have it for long, for we’d figure out solutions to minimize or negate it entirely. Those of us who are honorable know that we are few, and that we will live most of our lives alone.”

“Most Humans are not honorable, but what Star Force has done is create a haven for those that are to gather and combine our skills. We have active enemies within the Human population, and I expect we always will. Fighting is to be expected, and while not all fights are to the death, some are, and we don’t shy away from them. If someone needs to be killed we kill them, no hesitation. But those people are threats in some way, and they’re a threat because they chose to be one.”

“We do not kill because an individual belongs to a certain race, we kill because of the actions they take. No one chooses what race they are born into, or on what planet…therefore we will not penalize them for such things. There were probably Nestafar in Orica that had nothing to do with the war against the Calavari and in fact were opposed to it…but the Alliance killed them along with the rest, not because of a choice they’d made, but because of the race they were.”

“The Cajdital don’t choose to be born, but they do choose to try and kill us…so we try and kill them back. Not always, because sometimes we can defeat them without killing them, and we have taken some of them prisoner. When we held them together they killed each other, with the last one standing using its claws to tear out its own throat, for they will not accept imprisonment.”

“Now, we don’t presume all Cajdital will be the same, but so far we haven’t encountered one with a different mindset. We offer surrender before killing their colonies from orbit, and if they would take it we’d make accommodations, but none have as of yet. We’ve stopped taking prisoners by force, for the most part, because it is inconvenient for us to do so and they end up killing themselves anyway. We’ll only go so far, in risking our own people, to keep our enemies alive…but we will try to do so because we are honorable, when we have the advantage.”

“After we learned of the Cajdital’s suicidal tendencies we created wrist cuffs that covered their claws so they couldn’t use them to cut their own throats…and we also started keeping the prisoners separate from one another, so they couldn’t kill each other. When we did, they tried to starve themselves to death. We fed them through forcible means, putting nutrients directly into their blood stream. To do this we had to restrain them, making them little more than objects kept in storage.”

“We didn’t let that continue for long, and eventually we returned them to a Cajdital world, figuring it would be better for them to die in combat than live restrained and stagnant. We flew through enemy fleets to execute a low orbit drop to return the Cajdital to their people, and not because it was to our advantage to do so. Some of our ships took damage in the return, and we expended resources to build the drop pods…or in some cases returned one of their captured ships to them.”

“We returned them because, wayward as they are, they are our brothers, and if they are going to die let it be in battle where they are free to choose their own fate. As dishonorable as the Cajdital are, they are skilled in warfare, and in that small area at least they have our respect. We fight them because they are in the wrong and because they are trying to kill us, and sometimes that means we have to kill them en mass, but we never actually slaughter them.”

“That word, slaughter, has several meanings for us. One is simply a lot of killing, and is not dishonorable. Another is killing when combat has ceased, which is what happened on Orica. The Cajdital never stop fighting. They keep building more weapons and troops constantly, so there is never a moment when you can say it’s over. You either kill them when you can or they build up their numbers and come back at you again. It’s never over with them, which is probably why none of them accept surrender.”

“It is forever war with them, and will continue to be so until they have wiped us our or they are wiped out…or until we can find another alternative, which we’re continuously searching for. That’s the difference between the Cajdital and others. So long as the fight continues they are a threat, and they will not stop until they’ve won. So either we destroy them or we take away their ability to fight.”

Paul left it at that, though he could have gone on further, but he didn’t want to muddy the intellectual waters any more. The Hycre he was speaking to, whose name he hadn’t even gotten, didn’t respond immediately, but took a few seconds to either think through what Paul had said or to consider its response.

I STAND CORRECTED. YOU ARE NOT HYPOCRITICAL, THOUGH IT IS A NARROW LINE BETWEEN THE TWO POINTS.

“Details matter.”

DETAILS ARE ALSO IMPORTANT TO AVOID MISUNDERSTANDING. I THINK IT IS VALUABLE FOR BOTH RACES TO DETAIL OUR PHILOSOPHIES. THERE MAY BE CONFLICTS, BUT YOU ARE RIGHT TO WANT TO AVOID UNNECESSARY ONES. MAKE A LIST OF PRINCIPLES BY WHICH YOU OPERATE AND WE SHALL DO THE SAME. THEN WE WILL SEE HOW MUCH WE HAVE IN COMMON FOR A DECLARATION OF WHAT YOU WOULD CALL HONORABLE CONDUCT.

“Acceptable,” Paul said, with the Hycre’s hologram winking out a moment later.

The warship’s Captain stepped over to Paul and lowered his voice. “I didn’t realize we were taking lizards prisoner.”

“A few here and there,” Paul said, rubbing his eyebrow distractedly as he thought. “Looks like I’ve got some writing to do. So long as we’re going to be here a while, unpack a couple of the corvettes and have them take up flanking positions. If our luck gets really bad and the lizards or other bad guys happen to show up I want some quick response assets in place.”

“You think that’s a possibility?”

“I don’t plan for what I think will happen, but what’s physically capable of happening. I also have a long history with the bad luck monkey, and you never know when he’ll jump on your back.”

“Are you worried about the Hycre?” the Captain whispered.

Paul shook his head. “No, I’m not. I just want some flankers.”

“I’ll make it so,” the Captain joked, leaving Paul to sit down and pull up a writing prompt on his command chair.

6

June 10, 2449

Ghanis System (Beta Region)

Ettiana

Captain Erica Sorvela stood on the observation deck of her jumpship’s 32nd cargo bay, monitoring the incoming dropship traffic as she always did. The large artificial plain stretching out before her carried its own subtle wind currents, tussling a few strands of her blonde bangs hanging out from the tight up-do she usually sported, as over 100 Dragon-class dropships were offloading grain cubes directly into the chamber.

Off to her left, the wall stretched into the outer hull of the jumpship, along which were 4 entry points…short tunnels with multiple atmospheric shields to keep the air in and the cold of space out. Off to her right were the cargo crate stacks, being organized and added to by a myriad of cranes reaching down from the ceiling above her. Normally a hangar bay and a cargo bay were two separate facilities, but this jumpship was Harvest-class and designed specifically to carry produce from the Kiritak colonies back to other Star Force worlds, meaning a very limited and specific inventory list.

Knowing ahead of time what the ship would be carrying, the designers decided to maximize internal hull space and combine the landing and storage areas into one multi-tasking facility…or rather 44 such facilities that ran the spine of the jumpship in rows of 11. Each bay had its own external ports, the only ‘windows’ on the ship, but they also had armored hatches that could and would close during travel to make sure the odd bit of space debris didn’t shoot inside one of the gaps and bypass the hull armor.

Bays 1-31 were already loaded, and ‘loaded’ to Sorvela meant full to the point where only 1 dropship could enter. That would make offloading take longer, for the dropships on location would have to ‘eat’ their way into the crate stacks, but it maximized the amount of cargo her ship could carry, and the less jumpship flights necessary the better, for the Kiritak were pouring out the resources now that their colonies had gotten firmly established and were seeing ridiculous growth.

Her jumpship, the H132, had been built in a Kiritak yard with a mix of alien and Human crews in just under 10 months’ time. Star Force had gotten so good at building the massive ships that, coupled with the Kiritak’s insane numbers and work rate, they were pumping them off the line unbelievably fast…limited only in how many resources they had available, now that the Kiritak training programs had caught up with the demand for workers.

It was those resources that Sorvela’s ship was meant to carry, and she knew well how critical they were to the war effort. Sometimes it was foodstuffs, sometimes it was metals…then there would be fabricated components or finished products, many of which were coming out to the Kiritak from factories back in the core region. But what still awed the Captain was the fact that after 6 years on the job, her jumpship had never seen a split cargo. It was always all of the same product, underscoring just how much the Kiritak were producing…and requiring in return.

This current cargo was destined for the Sirius System, all the way back in the core and just a handful of lightyears away from Earth. There it would be split up and sent off to a number of locations, though she knew a great deal of it was being sent to HTC, the new Calavari world, along with a number of other colonies in Alpha Region, which was why Sirius was being used as a way station. The system had several inhabited planets, with Orion as the major population center and distribution hub for the Kiritak supply chain.

And that’s where her farthest supply runs went. Sorvela’s missions didn’t always take her that far, most kept her inside Beta Region, but as the number of Kiritak-created jumpships increased the more veteran Captains were being given the longer routes, leaving the newly minted ones handling the short hops, some of which were only insystem.

Some people would have thought that driving a huge jumpship from point to point was a mundane and simple task…which it was, until something went wrong. The cargos that the massive ships were carrying, such as this foodstuff load that was still being brought up from the planet’s surface after 18 days of continuous dropship ferrying, were so important that Star Force wasn’t going to play games with their fleet and assign lower level personnel to their care. In fact, it had taken Sorvela over 40 years of service aboard other vessels to finally rate a Captain’s slot, and had it not been for the aggressive fleet expansion being forced for the Kiritak annexation, it would have been unlikely for her to have gotten the post in the coming decades.

The amount of foodstuffs her ship was loading up was sufficient to feed a population of 5 billion Humans for a full year if stretched, though they weren’t yet processed. Each of the cargo cubes being brought aboard contained pure grain, most of which had been crushed in order to diminish the wasted airspace between kernels. The inventory for this shipment had 37 different types of grain, with the bulk being wheat, corn, and kepper…the latter of which was a Star Force favorite that didn’t originate on Earth.

Where exactly her shipment would end up Sorvela didn’t know, but she did know that Star Force fed more than just Humans, Calavari, and Kiritas. Before she’d joined the naval division, Erica had worked as a ‘herder’ on one of Star Force’s biological preserves, which they referred to as a ‘sanctuary.’ They weren’t accessible to the public, and because of that most people didn’t know they existed, but Star Force had thousands of them spread across its territory, most of which were in Sol.

Each sanctuary was a location where less intelligent races were contained and cared for, given that Star Force didn’t allow for individual ownership of ‘pets.’ There were sanctuaries for dogs, cats, horses, cows, birds, squirrels, and almost every other ‘animal’ that used to either be owned as pets, used as food, or lived in the wild. Star Force principle held that you didn’t stomp out one race in favor of another, nor did you let one starve to death. Survival of the fittest was not a philosophy Star Force looked kindly on, so they’d established the sanctuaries as places they could send ‘refugees’ whenever they encountered them.

Those refugees required foodstuffs as well, but fortunately Star force was smart about how many mouths they had to feed. Population control was in effect in the sanctuaries, but not in any surgical or damaging way…they simply kept the males separate from the females, and in doing so could control how many offspring were produced, more or less. The purpose of the sanctuaries was to preserve, learn about, and uplift the lesser races…which Sorvela had been involved heavily with on the communication front.

She’d been a dog person from the get go, having grown up in the United States were pets were still permissible. When she learned that Star Force accepted, and in fact wanted, any strays picked up or dogs that people had abandoned for whatever reason, she’d sought out employment with them…only to learn that the dogs in the sanctuaries were not like the ones she’d owned as a child. These could actually speak.

Not English, but Star Force had created a rudimentary language to use with them that had a decent sized vocabulary. Even the refugee dogs being brought in picked up some of it, just by being around the others that had been born and trained in the sanctuary. And when she said training she meant Star Force training, meaning the dogs were going through daily workouts and drills as if they were people.

In the beginning she thought Star Force was overdoing it, giving them more credibility than they deserved…until one day when one of the dogs she was working with grabbed the cuff of her pants in its teeth and pulled her back from a tree as she started to sit down next to it. The dog had pulled so hard she fell down, then it let go, walked around her and looked her in the eye…then spoke the dog word for ‘danger’ and pointed with its paw down into the grass.

When she looked she saw some sharp bits of splintered wood in the grass. That had been her moment of epiphany, with it finally clicking in her mind what Star Force had been telling the public for ages. Different races were at different levels of ability, but all were people. It was then that she’d been able to look the dog in the eyes and see a person there…not a Human, but a person, after which her outlook on society changed drastically.

The ‘animals’ she’d once thought were property and, to be honest, expendable, were people like her who needed things…and the idea of just turning them loose in the wild suddenly didn’t seem so fitting when she imagined it being done to her. How long would she last in the wilderness if she had to fend for herself? What would she eat? What would she wear? Where would she live?

The natural wilderness that had seemed so tranquil and pristine before now looked to her like a nightmare, and she suddenly understood why Star Force had created the sanctuaries. It was to defy the chaos of nature and utterly destroy the concept of the food chain, for all the foodstuffs that both the Humans and the other races ate came from plants and chemical synthesis. No meat was required, for it meant that you had to kill one person to feed another, and that was totally reprehensible within Star Force philosophy.

Realizing just how much her dog herds, and by extension her Human herds, relied on foodstuffs being produced by Star Force, she eventually changed vocations and ventured into the supply chain, ultimately landing in naval cargo transfer. To rise to the rank of Captain she had to branch out into military applications, because Star Force knew, as she now did, that the cargo must flow and continue to flow else billions would suffer and/or die.

Because of that simply fact Sorvela’s mundane cargo transfer responsibilities were among the most important within Star Force. It might be a simple thing to move cargo from one place to another, but it had to happen else tragedy would ensue. Her job was to make sure it didn’t, and it was a duty that she never took lightly, as well as being one that she took great pride and care in.

Which was why she personally observed all of the loading, being directly on hand should a problem arise.

“Captain,” a non-Human voice said from behind her.

Sorvela turned around from the railing and looked down at the Kiritak staring up at her.

“Yes.”

“From Gerardi,” it said, holding up a datapad for her.

“Thank you,” Erica said, taking the device. Only a third of her crew were Human, with the rest being made up of Kiritak, given how many jumpships were being pressed into service. Archon Randy had wanted Beta Region to be as self-sufficient as possible, and to avoid a major personnel drain on the rest of Star Force he had Kiritak manning as many posts related to their resource production colonies as possible, including the cargo transfer to and from.

Fortunately the little buggers were loyal and hardworking, if a bit naïve…though that was probably due to their youth, for most of their race had yet to achieve self-sufficiency despite Star Force’s efforts to provide them with their own version of ambrosia as a boost. Still, every year that passed her Kiritak crewers grew more capable, and she figured she’d just gotten used to having experienced personnel around her, given that none of the young Humans just joining Star Force would be assigned to a starship, no matter what its class.

The days of 20 years olds ruling the world was gone. Now if you weren’t at least 100 you were still considered to be ‘green’ unless your skill level merited otherwise.

The Kiritak crewer hopped off while Erica opened the file on the datapad and saw the inventory list that her Chief Mechanic had compiled upon her request. It wasn’t overly long, but contained 48 types of items and the quantity of which he needed to fully restock the ship’s spare parts stores. Sorvela wanted to get that taken care of before they left the planet, and had put Gerardi through a hurry up assessment of all ship’s systems and replacing worn, if not yet broken, components.

She ran an eye down through the list, seeing most of it was standard equipment with a few exceptions…but nothing that the Kiritak colony depot wouldn’t have on hand. Her jumpship didn’t carry a fleet of its own dropships in order to maximize hangar/cargo space, relying on the local planetary fleets to handle all loading/offloading, but there was one small bay reserved specifically for transit use that contained several ships that belonged to the jumpship. Guessing they would be sufficient to handle the supplies she needed, Sorvela activated her comm earpiece and got her crew moving, arranging for the pilots to head down to the planet in three Falcon-class dropships while she directly contacted the Kiritak colony, all while continuing to oversee the grain loading.

It took another 7 days before the jumpship was full up, during which Sorvela got the spare parts she needed aboard, cataloged, and stocked in the appropriate places. With all final checks made on the cargo she ordered the bay doors shut and hard locked, then the very heavy jumpship eased up out of planetary orbit on its gravity drives, bypassing the hundreds of orbital facilities, many of which were still under construction, and getting to a clear jumpline out to the star, from which Sorvela ordered a microjump starting them on the first leg of their trip all the way back to the Core Systems.

When the jumpship decelerated against the star, it had to reposition around the perimeter to find the exiting jumpline, and while working through that navigational delay the ship’s sensors picked up a fleet coming in on a different jumpline. That wasn’t uncommon, for a lot of jumpships operated in convoys, but as she observed the system map update as the newcomers slowed to speeds where the system tracking network could identify them, she noted with a bit of apprehension that they weren’t Human nor Kiritas ships…nor were they from the Alliance.

“Who are they?” she asked her bridge crew, staring at the holographic map and wondering if she wasn’t going to have to order an emergency microjump elsewhere in the system, but she didn’t let her crew in on those thoughts.

It took a few moments for the crew to pull up a match from the ship’s database, due in part to the fact that only a few of the incoming ships matched a profile they had on file, but eventually they found her their answer.

“Mssot,” one of the crew relayed to her along with the racial profile, which was sent to her command chair’s built-in screen.

Sorvela chewed on the inside of her lip as she watched more ships coming into the system on a wide stagger, with 7 already present and descending closer to the star to make way for the others in order to avoid a collision.

“Are they in our way?”

The navigation officer shook his head in the negative.

“Remain on course,” she ordered, thumbing through their file. They were a race that had little contact with Star Force, but were an associate of the Calavari with their territory sitting within the larger empire, though with the 3D placement of star systems and the immense voids between them, ‘within’ was really a misnomer. Even Star Force had other races ‘within’ its territory in Beta Region, given the cherry-picking of worlds that had taken place.

The diplomatic file read that the Mssot had 3 systems under their control, but they were located multiple jumps away, near to the Nestafar ‘border,’ which meant their presence all the way out in Beta Region was as unusual as Sorvela had though it to be.

She wanted to open a comm channel and ask what they were doing here, though it wasn’t uncommon to have ships passing through Star Force territory enroute to other locations, but she knew others would be handling the inquiry and it wouldn’t do much good to have multiple Star Force personnel contacting the Mssot all at once.

No warning flags arose from system command as her jumpship reached its jumpline, nor was there any news about the Mssot, whose total fleet count rounded out at 22, so despite her curiosity Erica left it alone and ordered the system exit jump after she confirmed with navigation that there were no incoming ship pings on that line.

In the blink of an eye the grain hauler accelerated its extreme mass, red-shifting the camera views behind until they went totally black, as did the aft sensors. Relying on memory coupled with gravitational effects, the system map updated as the jumpship accelerated through the inner, middle, and high zones, eventually cutting its drives somewhere in the outer zone on the edge of the system as the gravity from the star was waned. From there it coasted on its hundreds time lightspeed momentum, nudging aside from the jumpline using conventional thrust engines to ensure no mid jump collisions occurred, while broadcasting a signal ahead to warn others of their approach and position relative to the jumpline.

Sorvela breathed a sigh of relief, now safely underway, and wondered if the Mssot were just passing through or if they had business to conduct with the Kiritak colony.

7

July 21, 2449

Ghanis System

Ettiana

“Anything new?” Randy asked as Eric-9377 met him at the foot of the dropship. The trailblazer had just pulled a quick trip out from Kirit after getting the Archon’s message about the Mssot convoy showing up and asking for help and/or trade, given that they’d just fled the invasion of their territory by the Nestafar.

“I’ve ordered a steady stream of foodstuffs and a touch of fuel distributed to them until you arrived. Their supplies are running low,” the lead Archon in charge of the Kiritak colony on Ettiana noted as the pair started walking out of the spaceport hangar and into the city, enroute to where the Mssot representative for their refugee fleet had been waiting for Randy’s arrival.

“Good call.”

“Yeah, well, I figured you didn’t want them to starve to death before you had a chance to talk with them. They’re not the easiest to understand, but they do speak the trade language. They do not know what happened to the world they fled, but they’re not expecting any survivors. They’re just glad to have gotten out when they did…now they’re nearly out of fuel and supplies after having been turned down by others. I almost granted them sanctuary on the spot, but figured you might get huffy if I went over your head.”

“Only if you made a bad decision,” Randy said as they stepped out of the hangar and into a nearby elevator cab that descended them into the subsurface levels where they eventually would come to a tram station. “Have any more ships arrived?”

“No, and they’re not expecting any more.”

“Any battle recordings?”

“The data is sketchy, but shows a small Nestafar fleet kicking the crap out of their defenses while the convoy ran. It looks like less than 10% of them made it out. The Nestafar were gunning the others down like it was target practice. The Mssot’s tech is low grade with add-ons they’ve purchased from other races, including their gravity drives. A good chunk of that is Calavari tech.”

“Anything more on the relationship there?”

“The Mssot operated their own defense fleet, but were augmented by a treaty with the Calavari. As busted up as they are now, the Mssot were left without support and the Nestafar pounced on them…and others, as far as rumors go. They think they were targeted specifically because of their link to the Calavari, though they admit to never having good relations with the buggers in the first place.”

“What rumors?”

“A lot of nastiness happening in the territories adjacent to the Nestafar/Calavari border. Extremely lawless, now that the two major players are fully occupied elsewhere. We’ve got no verifiable intel on file, but they say more than just the Nestafar are on the prowl, and given how few ships they hit the Mssot with I’m inclined to agree that they’re not the only culprits. My gut says Skarrons.”

Randy cringed. “That’s what I was afraid of. Who else are the Mssot saying were hit?”

“About 20 or so smaller races than them, most of which are one system civilizations that either had ties with the Nestafar or Calavari. The Mssot didn’t encounter any hostiles directly, but on their exodus out here they stopped in at a number of high population systems seeking aid and crossed paths with other refugees from the fighting, which is where the majority of the rumors are coming from. I’d guess that we’re going to have more coming knocking on the door before too long.”

“Did you find out why they came here?” Randy asked as they claimed a tram car for themselves ahead of the Humans and Kiritak waiting in line and sped off through the city’s understructure.

“Closest Star Force system they were aware of. The Critel advised them to come to us after they turned them down.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Randy muttered. The Critel were a friendly, low military, high econ race with territory set below the Hycre and Calavari on the galactic plane, with their systems stretched widely apart from one another. One tendril of the lizard advance was headed in their general direction, but the Hycre had been battling it, and in doing so protecting a region that contained many races that were pinched between the Nestafar and lizards. The only ‘open’ area was Beta Region and further down on the galactic plane that eventually ended with the galactic barrier…a region Star Force had not yet been able to venture to, given its distance.

The Critel were close to the lizards, close to the Nestafar, and were intermixed within the general area the Hycre marked as their territory, but they hadn’t been drawn into the fighting as of yet. They were regular customers at the Star Force interstellar exchanges, both buying and selling goods, as well as diplomatically hob knobbing around and boosting their rep as deal makers and information brokers.

More often than not they’d referred new races to Star Force, most of which turned into advantageous business transactions, but from which the Critel gained influence for the introduction while Star Force did all the leg work. For that they were savvy diplomats, but Randy had gotten tired of them being eager to suggest solutions and extremely reluctant to take part in them, and he wasn’t surprised in the least to hear they’d denied the Mssot help then sent them Star Force’s way.

“I’m surprised they came here,” Eric added. “Rotunna and Brenns are considerably closer.”

Randy shook his head. “They’re newer, so the Critel might not have added them to their maps yet. Ettiana is well established, and with all the visitors you get coming to take a look at what we’re doing here it makes sense.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“I’ve been working on that on the way out here, and we’re got a few options. Depends on what they have to say.”

“Indentured servitude is off the table I assume,” Eric said, referencing one of the offers made by the Mssot, who were desperate to secure some sort of arrangement that would allow them to survive.

“I don’t want Star Force to get a Santa Claus reputation, but we’re not making demands solely for our benefit here. Putting them to work in some fashion would seem better than just having them sitting around getting fat off our generosity.”

“If these are the first of many to come knocking on our door, are we going to have a refugee protocol or program established?”

Randy smiled. “You read my mind.”

“No, my Ikrid hasn’t progressed that far,” the acolyte joked. “I’m just wondering if Star Force is going to turn into the galactic lifeboat when the lizards start rolling over the Alliance and everyone else in the way.”

Randy’s expression blanked. “It could very well go that way.”

“Operation Conduit is still under wraps, I assume?”

“As much as we can control, yes.”

“How long do you think that will last?”

“You mean once they hear we’re harboring the Calavari others will start running to us?”

“Apparently they already are,” Eric pointed out. “The Mssot also referenced the Kiritas and how we absorbed them, asking if that was an option. If an empire as large as the Calavari joins us…”

“I know,” Randy said, already having thought down this road many times. “I know.”

When the pair of Archons got to the part of the city that held an open air park, one that was actually open to the planet’s atmosphere, it was lit up with a splendor of lights hidden amongst the greenery. A scattering of Kiritak milled about with the occasional Human passing through, but otherwise it was empty, and the pair made their way to a pavilion that contained four Human security guards and one cloaked figure that stood a few inches taller than them.

Randy stretched out his Ikrid link and connected to its mind, getting an altogether new feel. The complexity wasn’t as high as some of the other races he’d come into contact with, but this one felt more alien than the rest. At first he had trouble making anything out of the incoherent mess, but as he’d done before he held the link and tried to match up pieces of what he knew and what the newcomer was familiar with.

The Nestafar were the common ground that allowed him to break through, after which he had an easier time of sorting out its mental ‘language,’ though he did gently land a hand on Eric’s shoulder to slow their pace, giving him more time to poke around in its head before they got to the pavilion.

When they did the cloaked figure turned to face them underneath a series of dull lights that provided ample illumination from the underside of the pavilion roof without glaring. Randy saw the oily black skin scales referenced in the racial file Star Force had, but they were even more intimidating in person, bracketing its single red eye in the center of its head, underneath which was a mouth slit, but no nose. Beyond that he could see nothing, for the cloak hid the rest.

That was until Randy flicked on his Pefbar, expanding his psionic energy field out to penetrate the cloth and the alien. Underneath the robes that gave the appearance of a humanoid figure was a hunched over mass of collapsed limbs tucked inside to conceal its true size and shape.

“Hello again, Mssot,” Eric said in greeting, using their race’s name in lieu of a personal one that their representative had never given.

“Greetings and thanks,” the alien offered back in the trade language, its robes swaying in the air a couple inches short of touching the ground.

“This is our leader,” the Archon said, gesturing with his hand towards Randy as the acolyte walked aside and took a seat on the railing that encircled the small pavilion, extricating himself from the conversation.

“Speak your request,” Randy said bluntly, which surprised Eric a bit by the abruptness of his opening words.

“I represent the few remaining survivors of our race, who are now living in orbit amongst a small fleet of cargo ships. We are short on supplies and have no worlds to return to. We seek any aid you can provide, and thank you for that which you have already given us. We also seek trade, if we have anything you wish to possess, including our services in any form you shall name. We seek sanctuary if you are willing to offer it, or a business arrangement. Our future is bleak with few options for survival, so we offer you many in the hope that we can be of value to you, and in that value we survive and preserve our race.”

“So I have heard,” Randy said, throwing a glance towards Eric. “First, tell me why you are concealing yourself.”

The Mssot did not speak, but stared back at Randy for several seconds.

“Most races’ structures are not built for us. We find it best to interact with others in this form. Have you met other Mssot?”

“No, but I know how constricted you are right now. Feel free to assume your normal form here.”

“I cannot. My clothing is not of the proper shape.”

“Tell me of the atmosphere you breathe,” Randy said, pressing on and again startling the alien with the question.

“You know much of us. How is this possible?”

“I know little about you,” Randy countered, “which is why I am asking. You do not respire through your mouth as we do.”

“We do not,” the Mssot confirmed. “Your atmosphere is poison to us. The oxygen you breathe would be the death of us with only a few breaths.”

“What do you breathe then?”

“Nitrogen.”

“Are you wearing a filter or a contained supply?”

“It is both. We can exist in your atmosphere indefinitely without resupply.”

“What skills do you have that we might find valuable?” Randy asked, mentally probing the alien simultaneously, with Eric doing the same. The trailblazer could just barely detect the other’s Ikrid connection to the Mssot, but figured the same wasn’t true in reverse.

“We are few in number, but large in knowledge. The Calavari engaged us for our biological analysis.”

“Analysis of what?”

“Detections of genetic anomalies, corrections, and enhancements of themselves, their biotech, and their foodstuff production.”

“They had a disease that you cured for them?” Randy asked, pulling the memory from the other’s mind.

“I mean no offense, but I cannot answer that question.”

“You’ve made modifications to your own genetics, I assume?”

“We have.”

“And created bioweapons?”

“Yes, and we can do the same for you if you wish. Our knowledge of the code of life is extensive and applicable to most races we have encountered in some form or another.”

Randy pulled up a lot of memories when the Mssot referenced the bioweapon research, and while it was a mess of alien thoughts, he was able to pull several key pieces out of what was coming together to be an interesting puzzle.

“The Nestafar have a grudge with you because you helped the Calavari thwart the bioweapon they employed against them, and now that the military protection they offered in return isn’t available, the Nestafar have exacted their revenge.”

“You know far more than you should. How?”

“The Calavari are our allies, and we are engaging the Nestafar on their behalf in several systems. You will betray no trust by answering my questions, and I need honest answers if I am going to be able to offer your race any…options.”

The Mssot bristled, though Randy only noticed through the mental link, because its body didn’t so much as twitch. It didn’t want to break its race’s word to the Calavari, but was heavily conflicted with preserving the lives of those it was entrusted to negotiate for.

“What do you wish to know that you have not already learned from the Calavari?”

“What restrictions did they place on you in the terms of your defense pact?”

“That we only engage in defensive alterations. They believed offensive assaults on a biological front were an unacceptable battlefield practice. We did not concur, but obliged their philosophy, as we will for you on whatever terms you see fit.”

Randy knew what that meant, even without the psionics…but the images that came with the offer thoroughly disgusted him. Images of past projects and ‘research.’

“Star Force concurs with the Calavari. We have no use for your bioweapons, but your genetic knowledge may be of some limited use if it is greater than our own. What other value can the Mssot provide?”

“We will aid you in whatever way you deem necessary, so I shall ask you, humbly, what is it that you require?”

“Honesty,” Randy said with considerably more iron in his voice. “You are unscrupulous bastards who tried to play one power off against another and got burned for it. Most of your biotech is unethical, as is your civilization…which is now almost entirely destroyed, or so you fear. You ran away from the fight before you could see its conclusion.”

“You’ve tried to bargain,” Randy continued, “and cajole your former associates for mercy now that you’re on the edge of destruction, and knowing your reputation they refused. Others weren’t in a position to help, while most simply chose not to do so, seeing that you had little to offer them in return other than weapons that obviously didn’t save you from the Nestafar.”

“So what you’ve really come to me for is a last chance, banking on our good will to save your despicable race so you can regrow and one day take back the worlds you’ve just lost or start over on a new one…where you will pick right up on your bad habits that you’re willing to suppress for now in order to ingratiate yourselves with whomever you need in order to survive.”

“I will not facilitate your request,” Randy said before the Mssot could speak in protest, for he could feel the diplomatic cunning of the alien working in overdrive to try and stay on top of the conversation by anticipating where Randy was going and attempting to steer him towards an area of need or greed that they could exploit. “But I will offer you sanctuary…at a price.”

The Mssot completely ignored the insults, considering them to be the Human’s version of a negotiation tactic. “What is it that you want?”

“Your younglings.”

8

The Mssot visibly shifted, suddenly growing a few inches in height beneath its robe, and Randy could sense the first strains of anger from the alien, mixed with cold calculation.

“Explain.”

“I’ll make it very simple. If you want to continue living, you will do so as our slaves.”

Eric turned his head and threw Randy a confused glance, but he didn’t say anything, vocally or telepathically, waiting to see where the trailblazer was going with this.

“What do you require of your slaves?” the Mssot asked, making it clear that such an option was on the table.

“Your people will be sustained and confined to a single location where you will live out the rest of your lives away from harm and without the ability to harm anyone else. You will survive, but your civilization will not. You will be absorbed into our empire and assist us with projects of our choosing, while operating none of your own. Your freedom will be gone, but your lives will continue…and your offspring will be delivered to us to do with as we please.”

“Your numbers will dwindle over time,” Randy continued, and Eric was surprised by the cold honesty in his words, “and your civilization will die even as you continue to produce more offspring for us. That is the bargain we offer. You can choose to live as slaves or leave this system and take your chances elsewhere, which you know will lead to your imminent deaths.”

“You ask much of us,” the Mssot said slowly, with the anger that had been spilling out before now thoroughly clamped down, “but your terms are not wholly unacceptable, though they will require clarification on some points.”

“Ask,” Randy prompted, his demeanor still icy.

“Where will we be situated?”

“In a single facility,” the trailblazer said, picking up on some of the Mssot’s unspoken questions, “that will be inhabited exclusively by you. You will be confined to it and supplied with resources by us. You will be our permanent guests, and you will own nothing of your own.”

“Our ships?”

“Once you arrive at the location you will abandon them and all possessions. You will have no autonomy. You will be a subsection of our empire.”

“We will not be of use to you without our technology,” the Mssot warned.

“We’ll determine that, and give you what is required. You’ve done a lot of unethical research in the past and that will not be permitted with us. All projects will require approval by us, and you will not be cleared for any work of your own. You will be our slaves with no autonomy whatsoever,” the Archon reiterated.

“And our offspring?”

“You will clear their genomes of any genetic memories and turn them over to us. We will move them to a separate facility and that will be the last you ever see of them. What we plan to do with them is our own concern. You will have no further contact with them after handover, and handover will occur immediately after they are developed enough to travel.”

“What numbers do you require?”

“Nothing unreasonable, but a steady supply. How does your race reproduce?”

“Asexual external egg production, one per cycle.”

“Then we will require the eggs before they hatch. You will not be allowed to keep any, all must go to us.”

“Do you wish the young for a specific purpose, or simply to deny us a future?”

Randy’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he could sense just a hint of the anger returning in the Mssot. “You don’t know if any more of your race survived the Nestafar attack, so it’s possible that you are the last. Had we met under different circumstances it probably would have resulted in us killing you for your misdeeds…but you come to us as refugees, and despite your past history we choose not to turn you away, but we will not allow that history to continue. We will preserve your race in our own fashion, but your dishonorable culture must die, and I do not trust you or those with you to change your ways, thus you will be restricted and unable to repeat the past.”

“So you seek to teach our offspring what you think we cannot be taught?”

“Yes…which is why all genetic memory you’ve added has to be undone, so they don’t carry with them the taint of your civilization.”

“Our gain in this proposal is obvious, but yours is dubious. If you do not wish us to use our knowledge to create weapons, then what projects of value do you seek from us in compensation?”

“Our own biologists are quite advanced, but you have knowledge that is different from ours. You will teach us what you know and we will add it to our own. You will also provide information on every race you’ve encountered, a list of historical events you’ve been part of or witnessed, and be used as analysts when we encounter bioweapons or other types of interesting little puzzles created by others. You will do our bidding, in seclusion, for the remainder of your lives.”

The Mssot’s single eye closed its black lid and held it shut for a moment, and Randy could sense it coming to a decision. When it opened again the level of deviousness surged forth and the trailblazer could tell it had other plans than meekly fading away from galactic events.

“Your terms are plausible, but I must confer with others before official supplication can be enacted.”

“Take your time,” Randy offered. “We’re in no rush.”

“As you know we are. With permission I would like to return to orbit as soon as possible. Matters of this importance must be negotiated in person.”

The Archon looked to one of the nearby guards. “Take him back to the spaceport, directly, and allow him to board his dropship. He goes nowhere else.”

The Human security guard nodded and gestured to the Mssot who walked off with the four guards, leaving the two Archons behind in the park as a gentle wind began to drift down over the barrier walls and filter its way in through the tree leaves.

What was that about? Eric asked telepathically as Randy sat down on the railing beside him as they watched the cloaked Mssot and guards walk off.

A bit of theatrical negotiation.

I thought we weren’t in the slave owning business.

Usually no, but these guys are as slippery and amoral as they come. Can you think of a better way to keep them contained?

Mind letting me in on what you know. I wasn’t able to pull any memories from him, just emotions.

They’re bad guys, Randy summed up pithily.

So…we just shoot them, right?

It’s not your fault. These guys appear benign enough, and it’s part of their cover, but I’ve had enough experience reading non-Human minds to pick this one apart. Their civilization is pretty much a mad scientist’s dream. Lots of biotech wrapped up in their ships, which are partially sentient. We’ll have a look, but I’m not sure even the V’kit’no’sat could undo their machinations. If the Mssot refuse our offer and go on their merry way we’re taking them captive and putting an end to their misery. I didn’t get a lot of information, but what they’ve got going is akin to Captain Keyes as a Flood bulkhead.

Eric swallowed hard, his ire rising. Now I’m really glad I called you in. What’s the angle with the younglings?

Exactly what I told our friend…we’re destroying their civilization while preserving their race.

Why?

What would you suggest?

Well, aside from shooting them, keep them locked up and unable to creep about like you said. I just don’t get the ‘rebuild the bad guys’ civilization.’

Randy sighed. Something the trailblazers have been discussing for a long time now. We kind of have a pet peeve about writing off an entire race. It’d be like the Calavari killing us because of what The Word has done.

Still not seeing it. We’re not killing the Mssot, just locking them away in a resort somewhere…by the way, where were you thinking?

You said there were about 4 million of them?

Yes.

We’ll build a station in orbit of Bolo, Randy said, referencing a world in Beta Region that Star Force was beginning construction on as an inter-racial commerce world that would be populated by entrepreneurs and settlers from other races, but that would have no connection with their governments.

I thought you wanted them isolated?

They will be. There aren’t any windows for them to wave out of.

A comfortable prison in plain sight?

Not a prison, a residential habitat. They’ll have contact with each other, no isolation protocols for the individuals.

I guess if we have security nearby already that’s not hard to pull off, Eric conceded. What’s the up side for us…other than getting them off the galactic streets?

Not much.

Side project?

Randy turned to look at his fellow Archon. We don’t like having to kill the lizards…not all of them, anyway.

That’s why you threw out the comment about the Mssot removing the genetic memory?

No, I said that because he was thinking about using that as a tactic to circumvent our control.

Oh…how long does it take to get to Professor Xavier level anyway?

I’m not there yet, but the more practice you have the better, and you can’t train for this by going to a sanctum. It has to be field work for the most part, and I’ve been dealing with the Kiritas up close for a long time.

So this is a lizard prototype reeducation project?

No, the lizards are born with full genetic memory. We can’t take their young and turn them to the lightside, unfortunately.

So then why are we doing this?

Because we’re the good guys…and amongst our many enemies are compromising situations. One being us having to kill every single individual to defeat an opponent. In the middle of a firefight fine, but when we have time to think and plan we want options, and when we’re faced with the lizards and not being able to find any it’s…unacceptable. Here we’ve got Mssot that are just as bad, but we’ve got a chance to wipe them out without wiping them out.

You did the same thing with the Kiritas.

Randy tipped his head and frowned uncommitally. In a way, yes.

I know we’re rescuing the Calavari and integrating them into Star Force, and have already absorbed the Kiritas, but this doesn’t fit the mold.

No, it’s not the same. This is going to be a lot of work with little gain, but we’re still going through with it. One thing I hate above all else is having the situation force someone into becoming a bad guy. Corruption through environment. It’s real, but a lie at the same time. If you have a switch you have to hold open to keep a lethal injection from going into a person, you stay put and keep your hand on the switch. But what if there’s a countdown clock on the other side of the room next to another switch, and if you don’t flip it 5 people will be ejected into space when the countdown expires. What do you do?

Eric’s mind flipped through the scenario in a few tenths of a second before he found a solution.

Tie the switch open and go flip the other one.

That’s what we do…we find other options. But what if we can’t find one in time? Do you kill the one to save the five, or do you protect the one you’re entrusted with and pass up the opportunity to save the others?

Neither is acceptable.

Let’s change it a bit…take out the second switch and the five people and put in a table with food and water. How long do you stay on the switch?

Meaning that if you don’t move you’ll eventually die of starvation or dehydration?

Exactly.

Eric blew out a breath, thinking. I guess you’d buy what time you could, but if you let yourself die your hand will come off the switch and both of you will end up dead…so you’d have to let go at some point before that.

And always wonder what would have happened if you had just held on a few minutes longer.

Bad situation, but it wouldn’t corrupt me.

But it does take away your choices. You’ve got someone else pulling your strings and forcing you into a choice not of your own making. As Archons we don’t like to believe in a no-win scenario where we’d have to turn to the darkside…because there isn’t one. You can’t force someone to turn evil, but you can really screw with their head and heart.

Eric considered that, even if the concept wasn’t entirely new to him.

You want us to be the guy that comes in and flips the second switch, taking away the bad vs. bad choice?

Not all enemies are people. Some are ideas, some are circumstances. All need to be fought.

So saving the Mssot younglings is you sticking it to the darkside?

Taking a corrupt race and showing that it can be saved is the point. The enemy is the culture, not the individuals…at least not until they buy into it, and even then some of them can have their eyes opened.

And where do the Mssot land?

Randy frowned heavily. While it’s theoretically possible that they could change their ways, I’m not betting any credits on it. That one was evil, and I’m guessing the others are too, but on the off chance that one of them up on those ships isn’t, he’ll still be alive since we’re not just blowing them out of orbit…which I do have an urge to do, by the way.

So how long do I have to keep them in orbit?

Good question…I’ll have to get back to you on that one.

And if any more wayward refugees show up, what’s my response supposed to be?

Randy smirked. I don’t think you’ll be bothered with this on a regular basis, but we are working on a long term plan.

We being the trailblazers?

Yep.

Where does Davis stand on all this?

He’s onboard, but he really lets us handle all inter-racial relations, given that it’s military based. He’s got his hands full with Human-only worlds.

Did you even ask him about Operation Conduit?

It was run by him before we implemented it, why?

Just not entirely clear where his influence ends. Annexing other races seems more than a military thing.

We’re a team that are used to working with each other, Randy explained. Same way you’re familiar with the other Star Fox Archons. Work far enough down the chain and you’ll run into adepts who’ll ask the same question of you regarding how the Clan functions and who’s really in charge after me. What would you say?

That you’re a tyrannical jerk who controls everything, Eric joked. I get your point. Too bad I wasn’t born a few years earlier.

You think that’s all of it?

Meaning what?

You think being a trailblazer is just about being the first class? I should punish myself for not schooling you foxes better.

You really think all 100 of you are the strongest by sheer luck?

Because we’re better.

But what are the odds that the best Archons would all be the first ones?

Never really thought about that, we just are.

And maybe if I’d been there I would have picked up a few things from training alongside you guys. That’s what I’m saying.

Sounds like whining to me…and besides, it’s 101 now.

“What?” Eric asked out loud.

“You heard me. There’s 101 of us.”

“How is that possible…unless you’re counting Vermaire or Davis or someone?”

“They’re not Archons.”

“Who’s the new guy then?”

“Someone who can kick my ass.”

Eric thought for a moment, knowing that only the other trailblazers were high enough ranking rangers to best him…save for one.

“The Queen of Diamonds?” Eric asked, using Kara’s nickname.

“Yep.”

“But she cheated,” he complained.

“One thing you need to know about us is that we value results, not excuses.”

“Shut up and train…got it.”

“You read my mind,” Randy said, hopping off the railing with Eric following suit. “Need something?”

Eric thought he was talking to him, but then followed his eye line to a Kiritak that was standing on the other side of the bushes beyond the railing they’d just been sitting on.

“Are you the Randy?” it asked, shuffling its feet.

“I am.”

The shorter alien smiled widely. “I apologize for interrupting, I was merely curious.”

“Not a problem,” Randy said, clapping Eric on the elbow to get him to walk beside him as he left the pavilion.

Rock stars too, Eric added.

Like you aren’t? Everyone on the planet knows who you are.

I don’t get reactions like that.

You’re not the savior of their race.

Exactly my point.

They know you better than the other trailblazers, Randy pointed out.

Damn…you got me there.

Usually do, the Clan Star Fox leader reminded him as they crossed onto a park path that would lead to the exit into the city. Randy would stay groundside for the next few days, with the Mssot returning after 3 with their answer…a desperate and categorical yes.

9

January 1, 2450

Solar System

Pluto

Sander Rennold had just woken up from a good night’s sleep and hopped over to the nearby track for a ‘wake up’ mile before showering and pulling on his red Star Force logistics division uniform, then sitting down for a bowl of cereal in his quarters while he watched the news feeds. He opened a small container of supplement that had been designed to simulate milk and poured the vitamin rich white liquid onto his crunchy cereal, starting a mental countdown for how long he had to eat it before it got soggy.

As was per his year-old routine, Sander would have some 35 minutes to eat and catch up with what was happening across Star Force’s interstellar empire before he reported for work and got caught up on what was happening on Pluto, as far as commerce and cargo shipments were concerned. He’d been working as a senior logistics administrator on the planet for a year now, with their collective responsibility being to ensure that all Star Force colonies on the planet had what they needed in order to survive.

The Clan holdings were outside his domain, but it was up to him to keep tabs on the three national territories on the planet and to make sure they didn’t accidentally starve to death. The Aussies took care of their affairs well, but the smaller Terran Hegemony and Ipexion nations, both founded off Earth, were always operating on the edge of sufficiency. They relied on some 72% of their resources from imports, while Star Force colonies on Pluto operated on an average of 3%, with stockpiles to sustain them for a considerable amount of time should commerce break down.

The goal of any logistical operation was to get that number down to 0%, making a colony truly self-sufficient. That didn’t include luxuries, just the basics. Things like entertainment and décor weren’t a logistical concern, though the division did facilitate their transfer. Most of those items were sold in stores not of Star Force ownership, but they still had to transfer through the transit network and enter through the same spaceports, making them an unimportant, but ever-present piece of commerce to track.

Sander’s main concern were things like oxygen supply, foodstuffs, water, power supply, construction materials, and ensuring that the factories kept running smoothly, producing all the parts and products that Star Force required, most of which were built out of raw materials harvested locally…which usually meant mining or recycling efforts.

There were some things that Pluto didn’t have, like Corovon, that had to be imported, but through stockpiles and recycling efforts the planet’s need for regular shipments was minimal…so far as maintaining the status quo was concerned. Securing the materials to expand a colony was another matter entirely, and with Star Force constantly growing there was a lot of resources being shipped in, along with several locally produced specialties being shipped out.

Most people considered such concerns as background work and cited it as boring, but Sander knew that it was the lifeblood of any civilization and one that Star Force heavily emphasized. It had taken him some 42 years of hard work to rise this far up the ranks, but he had only just now reached tier 6 within the corporation, which oddly enough meant that he no longer received any pay. That he actually took as a good sign, indicating that he was now part of the Star Force ‘family’ rather than just being an employee who would one day leave to pursue other work or retirement.

And therein lay the problem. Being a level 6 now granted him greater autonomy within the corporation, and with it came questions that he hadn’t been in a position to face before. Up until now his duties had been straightforward and he didn’t have to think about doing anything other than what he was told, but now that wasn’t the case.

As Sander crunched another spoonful of cereal he watched a news vid about a Word rally on Mars, in one of the Brazilian cities, that was espousing their belief that Star Force’s code of conduct was interfering with their natural rights as Humans. He knew it wasn’t really The Word, but their overt civilian followers. The actual organization was secretive, but the societal push that was going on had seemed to take on a life of its own.

No such rallies occurred in Star Force colonies, for the simple reason that public demonstrations weren’t permitted. Public expression was accomplished through media, not by blocking transit ways and disrupting passersby. And with media, if you didn’t want to hear what someone had to say it was your choice, for you could just change to another channel or watch a different vid. The ‘in your face’ public  pressure that nations like Brazil still allowed was a no-go with Star Force, and most of the citizenry that lived on Star Force worlds appreciated the lower angst.

That hadn’t stopped The Word movement from getting their propaganda out, and for some reason Star Force didn’t try to censor it. At first Sander hadn’t understood that tactic, thinking they should have been opposing their enemy’s interference, but ever since Director Davis had made his public announcement concerning The Word, Star Force had taken a very open approach which Sander now appreciated. Let The Word have their say, then utterly tear it apart with logic and reason…for those that would listen, anyway.

The people he was seeing on the news vid did not fall into that category. Whether they believed in what The Word stood for or not, they were using the movement as an opportunity to do things they otherwise would not have been permitted to do, whether it be publically misbehaving and not getting punished for it, or by slandering those they had grudges with by lumping them in with what parts of the public were declaring to be the ‘evil empire’ that was Star Force.

The Word itself knew better than to take that approach, for Star Force did so much good that it was impossible to truly paint them as the enemy, save for with those in society that were weak in the logic department…which usually focused on the young. That was a real problem in Star Force colonies, for proportionally speaking the 15-30 year olds made up only a sliver of the population, given that with the physical training emphasis the corporation pressed, its colonies had people living far longer than within other nations.

So it was not a surprise that most of the anti-Star Force movement cropped up there, then tried to work its way in through civilian angles…but so far Davis’s super-nation wasn’t being converted, only annoyed at times. Even the news vid didn’t spend much time on the demonstrations, simply adding them as a footnote to more worthy news, today of which was highlighted by the opening of a new colony in the Barnard System, which was only 6 light years away from Sol.

Sander listened to half the story, which was noting the opportunities for early immigration and the procedures to follow for filing requests, before he finished his bowl and got a head start on the clock as he headed out of his quarters enroute to his office elsewhere in the city.

Halfway there he made a detour, having concluded that he’d given the matter at hand sufficient thought, and headed towards the section of the city that held the Archon sanctum. There weren’t many stationed here, despite the fact that the city/colony housed some 53 million people. Star Force had 6 others of lesser size on Pluto, plus Clans, but given that Pluto was secure territory there wasn’t much need for a large Archon presence.

That said, one couldn’t just walk to the nearest planet, so Star Force kept at least a few Archons everywhere they had a colony, no matter the size. They had their own section of the city, beyond just their exclusive training areas. It was off limits to the public, but Star Force personnel had access, which allowed Sander to pass through one of the automated security checkpoints with his genetic ID in the form of a handprint.

Analyzing the structure of his hand and taking a genetic sample at the same time, it confirmed his identity and lowered the energy field blocking his progress while raising one behind him. When he passed the threshold of the first they switched back, exposing the handprint scanner to the public again.

What had been fairly busy city streets turned into almost empty corridors as he walked through the Archons’ residential areas that held their quarters, most of which were empty. The first person he passed in the hallways was another non-Archon, which he gave a nod to and let pass by, but when he spotted the first white with red stripe uniform he flagged down the man by waving a hand as he jogged up to him.

“I’m sorry,” Sander said, “do you know where I can find Larry?”

“Still doing his morning workout, I think,” Darren-134229 said, stopping next to the logistics officer in the middle of the hall.

“Can you take me to him?”

Darren frowned. “Only Archons are permitted in the sanctum.”

“Can you bring him out to me then? It’s urgent.”

“Is it something I can handle?” the Archon offered.

“I need the highest ranking Archon available,” Sander said apologetically. “To my knowledge that’s Larry.”

Not seeming to take any offense at the slight, Darren tapped his earpiece and cycled through a few options.

“Are you still in the sanctum?” Darren asked the air, pausing for a response that Sander couldn’t hear. “Did you see Larry?...Yeah, I’m guessing he’s not wearing his comm. Can you tell him to meet me at the sanctum entrance, I’ve got a situation he needs to deal with…I’d tell you if I knew…thanks.”

Darren dropped his hand after terminating the call and stared Sander in the eye.

“Follow me.”

He did as told and walked slightly behind the Archon as the man led him to the sanctum’s entrance where another hand scanner was in place next to what looked like chrome blast doors. A few seconds before they stepped up to them the doors opened from inside and a mildly sweat-soaked Archon dressed in an armless shirt and shorts walked out.

“What’s up?” he asked his fellow Archon while glancing towards the red uniformed logistics officer.

Darren turned to him as well. “Go ahead,” he prompted.

“I need you to take me to Earth off the books,” Sander said, realizing this was the point of no return, “and I need you to arrange for me to meet with Director Davis.”

Larry raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with his fellow, yet lower ranking adept. “For what purpose?”

“I’m turning myself in, and I have information that he will want. Information that others will try to stop me from revealing if they become aware of my intent. That’s why I didn’t go to Earth on my own or send the Director a message. You need to take me there directly, before I’m missed.”

“Turn yourself in for what?” Larry said as he microscopically stiffened. He didn’t have psionics yet, but he could tell this man wasn’t one for hyperbole.

Sander let out a light breath. “I’m a member of The Word…and I don’t want to be anymore.”

“He just walked up and surrendered?” David asked Larry after he arrived in the Pluto spaceport some 18 hours later along with Nathan and Quenton, who were now both snooping around the city looking for and prepping for Word threats.

“He used his access to get into the Archon zone then flagged down the first one he saw and asked to talk to me…then he just bluntly stated he was a Word operative and he wanted to be taken to Davis incognito to avoid reprisals.”

“That’s no joke. We’ve seen the lengths they’ll go to to cover their asses,” David said, thinking back to Glasir as they walked up to the same handprint scanner Sander had used to access the Archon zone, with David letting Larry go through first.

“Nothing’s happened yet,” the adept said as the shields cycled him through automatically, registering the ID signature in his armor, “aside from his coworkers wondering why he didn’t show up from work. I took care of that, and everything has been quiet since.”

“How many guards do you have on him?” David asked as he pressed his palm against the flat panel and it flashed his Archon ID number above his fingertips.

“12 Archons, four in and 8 around.”

After that there was a brief period of silence as they rounded the corner ahead and ducked into a stairwell, traveling up three floors before they came to the level that had another fully armored adept standing guard just inside. Larry clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, with the adept giving David a nod of respect as he walked by.

Four doors down the hallway and they came to the empty Archon quarters that they were using to hold him in at David’s request, which the leader of Green Team knew was better than putting him in a security station where The Word would know to look…assuming this wasn’t all some devious plan of theirs. Regardless, David was about to get some answers.

Sander, who was sitting in a lounge chair watching TV surrounded by four more red-armored guards, turned his head as the two men entered…then stood up respectfully when he saw the green trim on David’s white uniform.

“Have a seat,” the level 3 ranger said before the man could utter a word. “I’m not here to take you to Davis, but he has been told of the situation. If you want him to know something, you’ll have to send it through me.”

“What I want from him is his permission to remain in Star Force,” Sander said bluntly, yet gently. “I no longer wish to be part of The Word.”

“So you’ve said,” David noted as he sat down on a stool next to one of the armored adepts, keeping his head above Sander. “Why the change of heart?”

“I’ve learned a lot since being assigned to infiltrate Star Force. Our previous attempts all failed because of the longevity required. You don’t have much turnover, so placing individuals in the Star Force hierarchy was problematic, and confounded by the issue of self-sufficiency. The Word believes it is unnatural and counter to predetermined design…yet the widespread and well documented cases have challenged that assumption.”

“The last theory that I know of was that your self-sufficiency is chemically induced and creates an unnatural state…stronger proponents have suggested brainwashing as a side effect, rending you zombies after a fashion. Those Word operatives that have had more contact with you testify counter to that point, resulting in a philosophical division that The Word was trying to rectify.”

“Now that I’ve become self-sufficient I’ve been exposed to a number of truths that I cannot ignore. The Word is in the wrong, Star Force is in the right. I want to switch sides, and will accept any punishment or demotion you deem necessary, though to date I have not taken any action against Star Force. My mission was to infiltrate, and in order to do that I could have no contact with The Word. My identity is real, as is everything else. The best cover is the truth, and I’ve stuck to it the past 4 decades, becoming a part of Star Force…and now that I am, I no longer want to betray you.”

“How were you going to accomplish that?” David asked, his tone calm and hyper serious.

“The Word infiltrates through cracks created by corruption or forgery. Neither is present within Star Force. Your computer systems are too robust for us to penetrate without notice, most are not even accessible, and your high ranking members are extremely disinclined to turn on you. They aren’t greedy, so we can’t bribe them. They aren’t power hungry, because you give them so much leeway and responsibility as it is that they’ve got their hands full. And most don’t have families for us to use as leverage…and those that do have been wise enough rebuff such threats, which is why so few have been made.”

“None that I am aware of,” David commented.

“No, because that avenue of infiltration was tested and discarded long ago. After which it was determined that personnel would have to be inserted at the lowest levels and work their way up, but they never got very far. The societal dynamic within Star Force is something that The Word cannot fully wrap their minds around, and as a result they don’t know how to mimic it. The people they sent were not deemed worthy of advancement, so no worthwhile plants were feasible.”

“And you’re different how?”

“It was eventually determined that a traditional operative could not be used, thus a new approach had to be taken. I was chosen to be a clean slate, to enter into your ranks, learn your ways, and become one of you rather than trying to mimic you. It may sound like semantics, but it’s an important difference…though you may not understand given that Archons don’t operate in such ways.”

“You’d be surprised the varied work that comes out way,” David said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You scare us…or more precisely them. I no longer fear you, ‘you’ being Archons. The Word does, because it doesn’t understand you nor your source of power. You are secretive, even within Star Force ranks, but working alongside you for so many years I have a better understanding than they do.”

“You haven’t explained it to them yet?”

Sander shook his head. “I haven’t transmitted anything to them, nor been contacted by them for the past 42 years. To do so even once was a possible slip in my cover. I had to be completely clean, which is why I haven’t been in a position to undermine Star Force…until recently. Now that I am, I have chosen not to and turned myself in.”

“Undermine how?” David asked, curious, but with a few ideas of his own.

“Star Force members in the upper tiers couldn’t be corrupted, so The Word needed to put one in who could be. I was supposed to use my position to cover for lower level operatives being inserted and assist them in rising through the ranks. The more plants in place, the more we could let in. I was to be the seed to start the growth of the corruption…but I would not count on my being the only one. That is what I was told at the time, but I could have been lied to, or they could have started others since my insertion. Being out of contact means I have no idea what they’ve done since then.”

“So you’re not an ordinary operative then?” David asked offhand, trying to prick a bit of pride in the man to use as a leverage point to steer the conversation in a direction of his choosing, still under the assumption that this was all some ploy and that he could get the man to an area of uncomfortability that he wouldn’t compromise, thus signaling that his intentions in turning himself in were a ruse.

But to his shock that wasn’t the case, and the man’s blunt honesty caught him off guard.

“Technically I’m not an operative at all. This assignment was deemed too demanding for an operative, because he’d have to adjust to unforeseen factors once on the inside in order to set up an inroad without security or the Archons discovering it and overturning decades of placement work. For that reason an Agent was assigned.”

10

January 8, 2450

Solar System

Earth

Sander walked side by side with David up to the staircase, then the Archon nudged him in the arm to go first, with the former Word Agent climbing up the circular stairs and seeing four people as soon as his eye line rose above the ceiling/floor into the Director’s office in Atlantis. As he climbed the last few curvy stairs he noted that three other Archons were flanking Davis, all of which were acolytes according to their gray uniform stripes.

The Star Force leader, seated behind his desk while the Archons stood on the wings, pointed towards a chair opposite him which Sander promptly sat down on.

“I’ve been reviewing the intelligence you’ve been providing us,” Davis said without preamble, though this was the first time he’d met the man, “and it appears to check out, but The Word has been exceedingly devious and I’m not wholly convinced that this isn’t some type of ploy, so I have a few questions of my own, if you don’t mind?”

“Ask what you like,” Sander prompted, “but I know you’ve already come to the conclusion that I can be trusted, else I wouldn’t have been brought here.”

Davis frowned slightly, but didn’t say anything for a handful of seconds.

“To a point,” he finally added. “You’ve stated that you haven’t compromised Star Force in any way to date, and that you want to remain a part of the corporation, even if it’s on a minimal level. Why now and not 10 years ago?”

“I didn’t have to make the choice until now,” Sander answered honestly. “Becoming part of Star Force was my assignment for The Word, so there was no conflict of interest. Now that I’m in a position to start undermining the personnel structure I either had to carry out my orders and betray Star Force or stay loyal to Star Force and betray The Word. I chose the latter.”

Davis tapped a finger lightly on his clear desktop, but didn’t take his eyes off the man.

“What does the name mean?”

“The Word is an acronym for World Order achieved through Retrograde Dominion. The basic fundamentals of The Word state that Humanity will achieve its golden age by returning to the old ways, supplemented by advancements that don’t encroach on the proper structure of life. That structure must be maintained, protected, and in some cases forced on the populace for their own good, with freedom limited within its confines. Star Force has strayed from the path, as far as The Word is concerned, and must be brought back into line.”

“And the flaw in their logic lies where?”

“Hierarchical structure of life. They believe that some lifeforms are superior to others, and that the higher placed ones can justly lay claim to the lowers for use as they see fit. That order seemed to make sense to me in the beginning, because the notion that everyone is equal is rather absurd, but when I finally understood Star Force’s angle I had an epiphany, and from there on out other things started falling into place and the entire Word philosophy was shown to be nothing more than a highly calculated façade to justify bad behavior.”

“What is Star Force’s angle?”

“You would know better than I, but from my perspective, climbing up through the ranks, Star Force also believes in a hierarchy, but one based on the individual’s skill rather than right of birth. You also state that it is the role of the higher tiers to protect and guide the lowers, as if they were younger brothers, equal in peerdom, if not in ability. That last bit is what I had been lacking, for The Word does uplift many through a myriad of functions, but it does so through destruction and sacrifice, which makes a certain amount of sense when all are intended by nature to expire after a given amount of time. Take away that lie and you see how sacrifice is a core betrayal of the stated purpose. You cannot save the masses by betraying the individual, for the masses are composed of individuals.”

“But you thought at one point it was acceptable to betray the individual?” Davis pressed.

Sander sighed. “I would say it was more ignorance on my part, but yes, academically I accepted that fact, though I never had the occasion to put it into practice.”

“You said,” Davis noted, referencing the long interrogation sessions that Green Team had already put the man through, “that you were never given any Agent duties prior to your insertion into Star Force. How is it that you achieved that rank without any prior experience?”

“Experience doesn’t create an Agent,” Sander said, seemingly at ease with the conversation and his conscience, “its innate skill that has to be developed and honed through field work. Mine was infiltration and breaking down the inner Star Force structure to know where and how to create blind spots to hide operatives and plants, both in the flesh and electronically. There are no apprentice Agents. When we’re assigned we’re in full control, no matter how green we are.”

“You gave us the descriptions of the other 5 Agents you trained with, but no names.”

“For security reasons we use none. I had to retain my name in order for my cover to be legit, but the others never knew who I was, nor I them. I assume our Master did, but he never spoke of it,” Sander said, referencing the man who’d trained the Agents and given them their assignments.

“Our?”

Sander hesitated. “I didn’t say anything earlier because I cannot confirm it, but my suspicion was that the man who trained us was not the leader of The Word. If I had to guess I’d say there were several Masters. Even I don’t know the scope of The Word’s operations, and not just because of my mission. The others weren’t told either, though they may have learned more afterwards as their assignments necessitated. Information is very segmented, and while an Agent has his hands in many affairs, they are all regional, insuring that if one Agent is compromised the damage will only spread so far.”

“We captured an Agent once,” Davis said, offering up a secret that he’d held until now. Publically, the term ‘Agent’ had never been used by Star Force or The Word’s propaganda campaigns. “The Word staged a military raid into one of our security stations in order to kill him. What do you know that’s so valuable to warrant that?”

Sander’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he thought. “Glasir?”

Davis smiled. “Good memory. Yes.”

“We are supposed to kill ourselves prior to capture that we feel we cannot escape. Failure to do so is considered cowardice, and for that reason alone an Agent would be terminated if they had the chance…but no Agent had ever been compromised at the time of my insertion, so it was a theoretical topic. Depending on the Agent, knowledge on his regional structure could compromise large cells, along with others he’d been assigned to previously. Agents don’t rotate around, but when one operation is completed the personnel are deactivated and reassigned…but if they accessed permanent bases in the course of their duties that knowledge would travel with them, exposing more threads for you to follow.”

“Above that,” he continued, “I know The Word…and The Word doesn’t want to be known. Anonymity is its greatest weapon, and for that reason they will try to kill me if they find out that I’ve abandoned their twisted cause. I have no doubt they are following my career, and when they suspect something is wrong they’ll take action. I doubt they have cracked your computer security, but I didn’t want to take the chance that they had and could intercept me before I was able to speak to you, hence the insistence that I be brought to Earth incognito.”

“There has to be something more than that,” Davis pointed out. “Something that you Agents know in particular that is worth exposing themselves to neutralize. We took a lot of prisoners on Glasir and extracted a considerable amount of information from them…information that allowed us to backtrack and shut down several dozen of their operations. I suspect they knew this when they sent their private army to get to the Agent in question, so I ask again…what’s so important to warrant that?”

Sander shrugged. “It could be a number of things. I’ve been out of the loop so long I can’t point to an achilles heel for you to hit…but then again, I don’t know what you don’t know, and it’s possible that there’s something I consider common knowledge and am overlooking that you might see as critical information.”

“Go back to the beginning then,” Davis prompted, getting the feeling that the man wasn’t purposefully trying to hold back information. “What do you remember of the training facility?”

“When I was recruited I was told that I was going someplace not on the map and was delivered into the back of a truck in lower Florida, some small town I can’t remember. From there I had no knowledge of where I was being taken, but the trip lasted a total of 6 hours and 52 minutes. I timed it on my watch. There were also several transfers of the crate I was in, and it included wheeled and anti-grav transit, I could tell that much from the vibrations.”

“When the doors finally opened again I could see no loading dock, just a hallway. When I entered, the facility’s doors closed behind me and I never saw them open again until the day of my assignment. I was taken back by crate to Florida, with a plausible cover story to explain the lost time. The training center had no windows that weren’t artificial, and while it could have been in a sealed building I got the impression that it was underground.”

“Aside from the Master and my fellow Agents I never saw another person. Master handled all of our training and instruction, and it was important to him that we understood why we would be doing what we were doing. He needed us to believe in the cause, and said that if we didn’t we’d never succeed. So rather than indoctrinating us into a set of specific rules and procedures he encouraged us to think outside the box, stating that that was exactly what we’d have to do in the field, because outside the box was the only safe place to hide. Star Force was too good monitoring the box, so we learned to operate outside society’s perceptions and the resource grid.”

“Do Agents have contact with one another, you notwithstanding?”

“No. Our orders come from Master, and any personnel transfers are routed through him as well. We inform him what we need and he transfers it to us, usually before we’re assigned, but on occasion modifications have to be made. Other than that we ‘grow’ our own resources and operatives, so to speak.”

“No one else knows about Master?”

“Only Agents,” Sander confirmed. “And most operatives don’t know about us, we use local handlers as intermediaries.”

“And your knowledge of this is academic, or did Master gives you files to study from actual operations?”

“Purely academic save for the case of failures. Those he gave us full information on so we could learn from their mistakes.”

“Were there any locations included in those files?”

Sander smiled. “Yes there were, though how outdated they are now I have no way of knowing.”

“Such as?” Davis pressed.

“The largest referenced was a production center in Bolivia. It was supplying an Agent’s operation in western Brazil, but so much cargo was being moved that eventually there was a mishap and a shipment got scattered over a roadway. The Word quickly cleaned it up, but the accident and the few tidbits of information that leaked to the press were enough to cause the Brazil operation to close. The lesson we were meant to learn was to keep as much production as possible local rather than drawing on our major industrial facilities.”

“What was the cargo?”

“Machine parts for equipment that was not native to the region, which would have thrown up a red flag to anyone looking for anomalies. Typically large pieces are deconstructed into spare parts, shipped, then reconstructed on site so the size of the cargo is small and easily disguisable.”

“How close could you get us?”

“I can narrow down the location to within a few hundred miles. I had the exact location on the map given to me so I could study the transportation route in order to assess how much cargo had been excessive, but I wasn’t given any information on the facility itself, but judging by the amount coming out it was an impressive setup. It might still be in operation.”

“How did you contact the Master from the field…or rather how were the others supposed to?”

“Codes hidden in public documents, that way no comm link could ever be established.”

“Can you contact him now?”

“I was supposed to if I had set up the proper blinds, but my sudden disappearance from Pluto has probably spoiled that option.”

Davis slowly shook his head. “Not if The Word pays close attention to Star Force operations. We have a tendency to pull people away on spur of the moment projects, particularly the Archons when the need arises. Since you were last publically seen with them we can concoct a story as to where you have been that won’t raise any eyebrows amongst your coworkers.”

“Risky,” Sander warned. “The Word may not know as much about Star Force as you’re giving them credit for.”

“But you think they’ve got enough eyes on Pluto to realize you’ve not reported for work?”

“I don’t assume anything, but I can’t discount the possibility whenever there is public access to a site. I would guess The Word has no eyes in Atlantis, now that you’ve closed it to non-Star Force personnel, unless they’ve been successful with other infiltrations. They were especially keen on establishing some form of electronic surveillance, though didn’t know how to accomplish it, but they’ve had 4 decades to work out a solution.”

“I think it’s worth a shot,” Davis said, glancing up at David. “Thoughts?”

“We’ll need communication coming back from the Master to trace.”

“Not a problem,” Sander said confidently. “In order for me to infiltrate the tainted personnel, I have to know who they are, and as I’ve said, Agents don’t correspond with other Agents.”

“Sounds promising,” David agreed.

“Alright then, Mr. Rennold. We’ll get you back to Pluto and let you start doing what it was The Word always wanted you to do. I’ll give you a secure comm line to this office so you can keep me informed without any middle men, nor extra Archons on planet. Those that are there will be informed of the situation and be ready to assist. This, if you hadn’t already been informed, is Green Team,” Davis said, gesturing to the four Archons standing around him. “They’ll be the ones hunting down any leads you give us, but you won’t be in contact with them directly. It seems The Word is already familiar with their identities, thanks to several previous encounters.”

“Yes, I know. The Colorado facility was one of the failures we were given to study. Which means that his presence,” Sander said, pointing back to David, “on Pluto could raise some suspicion.”

Davis raised an eyebrow as he looked at the ranger.

“Possible, but improbable. We didn’t take public transport, and unless they’ve got operatives on Pluto that happened to bump into us in the city or gain access to ID scanner records, I doubt our presence was noticed.”

“We’re still a go then, if you’re willing?” he said, looking at Sander.

“I am,” he said, hesitating slightly. “Though to be perfectly candid I have to ask…why are you trusting me? I half expected to be stuck in a prison, or at the very minimum be shuttled off to some corner of Star Force’s domain where I couldn’t do any harm if I wanted to. For all you know I’m a very bold plant who’s still carrying out Word orders.”

Davis smiled, glancing at the Archons who didn’t break their stoic demeanor. “It’s not so great a risk as you might think. You see, there’s a great deal about Star Force that you have yet to learn. Now that you’ve reached level 6 you’ve become acquainted with ambrosia I assume?”

“Yes, and I was quite surprised. The Word had suspected some type of drug use…and ironically they weren’t wholly wrong. Though technically the ambrosia isn’t required for self-sufficiency to be achieved.”

“No it’s not, but it helps considerably, as you’ve probably already noticed.”

“I’m only up to a mic every week, but yes I have.”

“You should be higher than that,” Davis commented, weaving a bit off topic.

“The first few hours after ingestion are troublesome. I’m highly agitated, but once it levels off I see the benefits for the next 3 or 4 days, gradually diminishing thereafter.”

A frown from Davis prompted him to type a few commands into his desktop, bringing up personnel records for the corporation and quickly finding Mr. Rennold’s, which included his workout logs. The Director went straight to his running mileage, seeing that it was very light and moderately slow.

“You’ve attained self-sufficiency?”

“I’m 74 years old and I look like I’m 30, so I assume yes.”

Nathan stepped over behind the holographic display to take a glance at the readout and confirmed Davis’s thoughts with a pithy telepathic analysis.

“Your workouts are very shallow,” the Director said. “You’re not pressing very hard for advancement, thus the ambrosia is not having much effect. Your body isn’t craving energy, so when you ingest even a small amount of it you overdose…that is what creates the agitation you mentioned. You need to crank up your workouts slowly until the sensation goes away, or stop using the ambrosia altogether. Its purpose is to allow you to do beefier workouts, and if you’re not trying to become a rocket you shouldn’t be taking rocket fuel.”

“I’ll make an adjustment. I had thought so long as I maintained self-sufficiency greater workouts weren’t required.”

“For self-sufficiency they aren’t, until you’re thrown into a less than ideal situation. If you’re just hovering at or above 100% it’s easy to tick down to 99 and start losing ground. These guys,” Davis said, thumbing his right hand towards the Archons, “couldn’t shake their self-sufficiency in a month if they tried. They’re running up like 110%, so they can take a lot of hits and not even drop below 105. Better to devote the time to building a cushion and not need it than to be a minimalist and get caught off guard.”

“So noted.”

“Now…back to why I’m trusting you,” Davis said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s because I know you’re telling the truth…plain and simple. If I didn’t, there’s no way we would be meeting face to face, despite the medics clearing you of any potential explosiveness.”

Sander frowned. “But how can you know for sure?”

“Ambrosia is one of our secrets,” Davis said, pulling a small, rubbery practice marble out of his pocket and holding it palm up before him, “but it is not the only one.”

“What am I looking at?” Sander asked.

“A tiny ball, nothing more. Catch,” he said, gently arcing it up above head level towards the man…who caught it in his left hand as it came down near eye level.

“Decent reflexes,” Davis commented. “Throw it back.”

Sander mimicked the Director’s toss, wondering what the object lesson was here…then his jaw microscopically dropped as the ball froze halfway through its arc, levitating in midair.

The Agent’s eyes went from the ball to Davis’s face and back again. “What is this?”

“This is me trusting you more than most of my staff,” Davis said, his face taught with concentration as he kept the ball more or less level in between them. “Give me one word as to why you’ve chosen to switch sides.”

Sander thought for a moment, distracted by the floating ball. It could have been anti-grav or magnetically levitated, but his gut told him neither was the case.

“Scruples,” he finally said.

“Scruples,” Davis echoed approvingly. “It’s the sign of a man who can be trusted once all illusion is removed. You will do what’s right because it’s right, and now that you have seen the truth you will never let yourself go back to the lies.”

Davis glanced up at David. “That’s what he told me, and I trust his judgement implicitly. Though your route to us has been an unconventional one, you belong with Star Force, and with your help we may have a chance to end The Word permanently if we can get at their leadership. Provide us a sliver of opportunity and we’ll make it happen, for as you can see, we have abilities that The Word can’t comprehend. That’s us operating outside of their box.”

Sander’s mind was quick, and he made the necessary logical progression in a matter of seconds.

“Telekinesis?”

Davis nodded, slowly transitioning into a smile as he flew the practice sphere back into his palm, then returned it to his pants’ pocket. “Along with other things.”

Termination

1

February 18, 2451

Solar System

Earth

David walked through the tethered crates in the back of the heavy mantis as he watched the countdown clock inside his helmet pass under 30 seconds as he headed for the far end of the gigantic aerial craft. Nowadays most flight traffic was accomplished via dropships, with the mantises having become more or less obsolete…except for on Earth and Corneria. There the atmospheric-only ships had seen numerous design modifications over the centuries, with the ‘heavy’ version that David was walking through being more than 4 times the size of a Dragon-class dropship, the largest version in the Star Force fleet.

Using a combination of wings and anti-grav, the huge haulers were a common sight in Earth’s skies, hauling Star Force cargo and personnel across the planet on a regular basis…so much so that David had chosen this particular flight to hop a ride on, for it was already scheduled to pass over his target, allowing him an unnoticed approach into French airspace.

When the ranger reached the back of the mantis he triggered the primary boarding ramp in the aft end to begin to lower as he grabbed hold of a handle on the wall as a swirl of turbulence forced its way inside the hold and buffeted his green armor around a bit. The cargo pallets were unaffected, and aside from the pilot no one else on the combination passenger/cargo ship noticed the activity as David timed the lowering to within three seconds of the elapse of his HUD’s countdown…with him running off the back and dropping into free fall as a tone sounded, signaling he’d reached his drop zone.

The mantis was traveling at high altitude and considerable speed, giving David some maneuvering options as he fell. Using his arms and legs as maneuvering veins, he angled his way towards the waypoint superimposed on his faceplate that marked his target coordinates in a remote area of the Pyrenees Mountains.

The Archon feathered his jump pack’s controls a bit to adjust his descent into a more lateral approach, gaining a bit more distance while still dropping fast, wanting to get over the target before coming down to ground so he could have a purely vertical attack vector.

His target was a castle that he’d scouted out the exterior of previously, finding it little more than a sturdy stone structure that had been reinforced with great care…including a subsurface barrier wall installed to make tunneling efforts more difficult. Every crack in the exterior had been sealed up, every window likewise secure, and there was a small security presence to keep out unwanted visitors, though this particular region of France had been preserved in an anti-urban fashion, with the large, interconnected cities far away, leaving only a privileged few the anonymity of their private retreats dotted across what little remained of the wilderness.

Thanks to Sander Rennold’s assistance, Green Team had been able to locate the source of the Master’s codes on various public publications, such as fanfiction and photo posting sites, where they found a handler inputting the messages. Using surveillance only, they had backtracked where he was getting his messaged from…which was another handler, who was receiving secure comm signals across a nearly obscure landline that was broken up with a series of short range wireless transmitters that made it very hard to follow, unless you knew where and how to look.

Messages were infrequent, so it took some time to follow the private message system across the French countryside, bouncing from building to building in the cities and tree to tree in the forests until the electronic bread crumb trail had led to the castle. Upon studying it for several weeks, including some up close inspections in the dead of night probing the external security systems, David was relatively sure that the Master was inside, hence his current drop on the castle while Green Team was hitting other Word facilities across the planet in conjunction with Red and Blue teams in one massive surprise attack using the intel and leads Rennold had provided over the past year as he played his part and let Word operatives infiltrate Star Force.

They were being cleaned up today as well, and with luck David and the others would gather enough intel from their raids to fold up the Word altogether, with the most critical mission being his. Bagging the Master was their top priority, and if his reconnaissance was correct, the castle was all but undefended…relying on anonymity as its shield and very atypical of all other Word facilities they’d encountered to date.

Either that or this was a wild goose chase.

David held off on his jump pack’s power right up until the last few hundred meters, decelerating quickly to land in the central courtyard where he pulled his stinger rifle off his armor’s back rack and shot a man and woman in civilian clothes that didn’t even notice his approach until his feet hit the cobblestones.

They dropped hard to the ground as David stretched out his Ikrid sense to maximum range and began picking up the location of nearby minds as he ran towards the guard house. When he got there he felt two inside and disabled them both with a pair of Fornax blasts through the wall before he opened the door and shot them on the ground where they’d fallen out of their chairs. The Archon took a quick glance at the bank of monitors blanketing two walls in the room, seeing that the castle’s denizens were milling about calmly, meaning no alarm had been sounded yet.

He took off across the courtyard and, with the help of his jump pack, leapt up to a second story window on the west wing and punched his way inside before going on a stunning spree, bypassing numerous rooms that his psionics told him were empty and going straight for the personnel. He worked his way around to the south wing, then the east, before finally getting into the much larger north wing that made up most of the castle.

There he burst into a large communal lounge and mowed down some 8 more people, one of whom was in a wheel chair and all of which were unarmed. None of them even had so much as a Word uniform on, and for all intents and purposes seemed to be regular French citizens as David left them where they lay and headed off after the few remaining others, not wanting the Master to have a chance to escape.

David swept the castle twice, then dragged all of the bodies over to the lounge. He used his Pefbar to search the room for monitoring equipment aside from the obvious security camera on the ceiling that he telekinetically disconnected…then he began his Ikrid interrogation one by one as the prisoners slept, still with no alarm or activity to suggest anyone knew he was here. How long that would last he didn’t know, which meant he needed to be quick.

He’d gotten so good at worming his way into people’s minds that he no longer needed them to be awake, though that did help if he wanted to delve deeper. The stun energy in them also interfered a bit, especially if they’d gotten hit in the head, but so long as their mind wasn’t shut down he could still connect to them. Regardless, the more obscure the information was the more difficult it was to access, with him relying on memory threads and surface thoughts for most purposes, though right now he was just pulling personal identity information, seeing who each of these people were.

As he worked through them he began to worry, for none of them worked for The Word. They were just local hires as residential staff to maintain the grounds, and David was beginning to think that The Word had deceived them again with the castle being a gigantic red herring until he got down to the last three people. He pulled the man who’d been in the wheel chair up off the ground where he’d fallen and set his paint-splattered body on one of the numerous couches and put his exposed fingertips against the man’s forehead…immediately sensing a much more structured mind.

It took all of four seconds for him to make a Word connection, then another six to confirm that this was in fact his target…the Master himself.

David let him sleep and pulled a quick check on the last two people, confirming that they too were just local staff and not Word members, meaning the Master was the only one here who didn’t belong…which appropriately made the cover all the more convincing.

“Alright big guy, let’s see what you’ve got around here,” David said, kneeling down behind the couch and coming in at the elderly man’s head from the back, hacking into his nervous system and pressing an armored forearm against his neck to suck the stun energy out and partially wake him up to aid in his memory search.

The Master blinked his eyes open and tried to turn his head, but the Archon held it firm, leaving him to groggily try to get his bearings as David confirmed that there were no weapons or guards on site, other than the two hired from a civilian security agency…which were little more than babysitters to drive off unwanted guests. There was also no alarm system or hidden chambers, only a computer that linked in to the secure Word comm system that allowed him to send messages out to his Agents…and a second system to likewise correspond with the other Masters.

There were 12 of them in total, each with their own operations and facilities. They kept in contact remotely, using numbers instead of names. This one was Master 7, though his real name was Gustave Beland…but more than that David couldn’t get out of his hazy head, so he woke him up the rest of the way and physically held him in place on the couch, which wasn’t very difficult considering his weakened and decrepit state.

“Bonjour?” he asked into the air, but David didn’t answer, nor did he let him turn around enough to see him. He held onto his head tightly and began digging deeper into his thoughts as the haze cleared from his mind…which went straight to his desk drawer when he saw the other bodies lying around.

David got a clear mental image of a small case inside that contained a kill pill, but there was no way he was going to let that fall into his possession.

“Relax and you won’t be harmed.”

“Who are you?” Beland asked, switching to English.

“Star Force,” David said, feeling the spike of fear run through the man…and he hoped he wouldn’t have a heart attack on the spot, though he sensed that Beland was actually hoping that might happen. “Easy fella. You’re not getting away and no one is coming to help you.”

David followed up that assertion, confirming from the Master that there truly was no help coming. His entire operation here relied on secrecy. He was hiding in the open, and now that he’d been discovered the only way out was by getting to his desk and swallowing one of the pills.

“What do you want with me?” he asked, and David could sense that he was going to play innocent, though the man was puzzled why he was being held down on the couch in such a rigid position.

“I know you’re the Master, and I’m here to get you to rat out the rest of The Word’s leadership…along with all your subordinate Agents, if you don’t mind?”

David’s coy honesty came with an unexpected bonus, for when he mentioned leadership the Master’s mind went directly to the other Masters…and the man that led them all, which they referred to as the Primarch.

Five days later he was back in Atlantis while the rest of Green Team was out chasing down more targets that the Master had unwittingly given them. David had been telepathically interrogating him ever since capture, with Star Force techs going over the equipment in the castle ever so carefully and discovering the second, dedicated communications link that went straight to the other Masters.

Even now their locations were being plotted and their apprehensions planned, with the cellular nature of The Word’s structure seeming to insulate them from one another enough that they didn’t notice Master 7 having been captured, given the ongoing communications between them that Star Force was now able to monitor.

Eavesdropping on them and gaining what tidbits of intel they could, Star Force was in a semi-waiting mode while busy sweeping up a growing number of lower level operatives…with David eventually called away from his interrogations for a meeting with Davis along with Red and Blue Teams’ leaders.

He got there second, with them waiting on Andre-399 who walked up the central staircase in Davis’s office and over to the trio, flipping a data chip through the air at the Director who telekinetically dragged it through the air into his palm, then plugged it into a slot on his desk’s rim. A holographic status report on one of their most recent anti-Word missions in South Africa popped up and Davis skimmed through it, finishing with a satisfying nod before shutting it down as Andre sat down next to David and Drake on the other side of the desk.

“We’ve located the Word headquarters,” Davis began. “Thanks to David’s interrogation of the Master and some electronic backtracking, aquatics has confirmed the existence of the Primarch’s base under the seafloor of the Arctic Ocean. We’re assembling a drilling team for a direct assault, but there are also tunnels leading out to what we think are land entrances.”

“Our scanning ships are having to follow the tunnels at close range to work out a map and aren’t finished yet, but we’ve identified 3 leading out from the base with one of them branching off, so at the moment we have 4 potential entrances. Both the tunnels and the base are buried deep in the bedrock beneath the water, which was why we never detected their presence or construction. There’s not so much as a comm relay in the Arctic, everything is, we believe, transitioning through these tunnels.”

“We’re hitting on both fronts?” Drake asked.

Davis nodded. “Once we find the entrances we’ll coordinate the drilling and tunnel teams to hit at the same time.”

“We’ll need an aquatics specialist for the drilling team,” David commented.

“Rikku has already volunteered and is on her way up now,” Davis said, referring to the highest ranked aquatics Archon on Earth.

“What about the other Masters?” Drake asked.

“We’re going to hit them at the same time. The techs say their messaging system is linked to the headquarters as well, so if they send out an alarm the Primarch could be alerted and, potentially, bolt before we can get to him.”

“Same with the Masters,” Andre pointed out.

The Director nodded. “We need them to expose each of their cells, so if they go to ground when we hit the headquarters we’ll miss out on our opportunity, so we have to go after them all simultaneously, and the sooner the better before Master 7 is missed. Yellow Team is going to handle the off Earth leads that we’ve been gathering, while Blue and Red Teams are going after the Masters. Green Team gets the Primarch.”

“We’re going to need more than 10 for that,” David pointed out.

“I know. Pull in whoever you need and coordinate with Rikku. We’ll have to get the drilling team assembled first in order to get them under the ice via water. I don’t want to fly a team up there if there’s a chance of The Word noticing.”

“How close are our cities?” Andre asked.

“300 miles, given or take. About 50 to one of the tunnels,” Davis said, referencing Star Force’s underwater colonies, which now totaled 2 billion in population on Earth alone, though only a handful were located in the Arctic Ocean.

“How long before we get the tunnel locations?” David asked.

“Another 24-48 hours.”

“Are we sure there’s only 12 Masters?” Andre asked.

“Fairly,” David answered. “They appear to be the only ones fully in the know, with the Primarch’s replacement being chosen from amongst them. When that happens he chooses a replacement from his own Agents, elevates them to Master and teaches them everything they need to know, then the new Primarch retreats to their headquarters, which they refer to as Mount Olympus, and never comes out again…same goes for any personnel they send up there.”

“No possibility of leaks,” Drake guessed.

“Exactly. Now it’s possible that there is another layer to The Word, with multiple Primarchs that only know the existence of each other…but I doubt it. The Master we’ve got says this guy is in charge of The Word, and he keeps in contact with the other Masters, so if there were operations taking place that popped up on the news and one of them couldn’t take credit for it…”

“…they’d figure out there were other fish in the pond,” Davis finished.

David nodded. “I’m 95% sure the Primarch is the big dog, but with Mount Olympus never having any of the roaches check out…”

“Have fun,” Drake said with a smirk.

“And take an army,” Andre added.

“We’re on it,” David assured them. “Just make sure you don’t let any of the Masters escape. They know enough to restart The Word from their own cells. We have to get them all, plus the Primarch, in order to decapitate the organization. The Agents aren’t in the loop, dangerous as they are, so we can miss a few of them and still kill The Word, but we have to get all the Masters.”

“Which is why we’re going after them simultaneously,” Davis reminded them. “We know where they are, and they don’t know we know. If we screw this up we’re not likely to get another shot at it for some time, if at all, which is why I’m splitting your teams up. This has to get done and done right the first time, and I don’t trust anyone else. Your teams have experience with The Word, Green Team more than the others, so if they’re going to get tricky you have the best chance of spotting it in the moment.”

“If they’re where they’re supposed to be,” Drake said confidently, “we’ll get them.”

“Ditto,” Andre agreed.

Davis nodded. “Get on it.”

2

February 28, 2451

Solar System

Earth

David stepped off the dropship’s lowered ramp and sunk into the snow nearly a foot, barely able to see the other five dropships that had landed in a circle on one of Canada’s northernmost islands in the middle of a raging snowstorm. It was daylight where they were, but the cloud cover and blowing snow was so thick it appeared dim lighted, with only the interior illumination from the dropships visible in the near distance as they too lowered their ramps and disgorged some 32 Archons in total.

David trudged out into the snow, feeling a chill sink into his armor, but one that he quickly dissipated with a touch of Rensiek heat produced throughout his body as he activated a waypoint for the coordinates that his team had been given for the tunnel endpoint he’d assigned himself to. The aquatics scanning track had led one of the tunnel spurs directly to this island and had calculated its upward trajectory to reach the surface somewhere near where they had landed, though the water craft obviously couldn’t track the tunnel once it crossed over onto land.

The island was a large one, so the best they could do was narrow down the area, which they’d pinpointed to within a 500 meter radius…which David thought was pretty damn good, though satellite reconnaissance showed no structures or topography in the area, just a flat, snow covered mass of land surrounded by ice-locked ocean.

The other members of Green Team weren’t with him. Jet and Nathan had gone with the aquatics team, while the other 7 members were each heading up their own tunnel team, given that aquatics had found a total of 8 tunnels spurs. David wanted to hit them all simultaneously as the drilling team began to chew its way down towards the base. That way The Word wouldn’t have any escape routes, plus he didn’t know what kind of tunnel defenses they might have.

He’d brought along some reconnaissance drones to probe for any booby traps, but first things first…which meant finding the damn tunnel entrance underneath all this snow and ice.

The waypoint marked a position some 700 meters to the north, so David started walking across the middle of the dropship formation and cutting underneath one of their long wings, getting a momentary shield against the thick falling snow that was obscuring his view of the others, though his HUD was able to keep track of their transponder signals just fine and give him position placements for them all.

Those closest to him were visible in their silver acolyte armor, with him being the only ranger amongst the group and no adepts. He’d pulled as many high level Archons as he could get from both Earth and the rest of the star system, giving him a potent, yet sizeable force to assault whatever defenses The Word may or may not have at their base. They were going into this blind, for the Master they’d taken had only heard about the facility while never having been there, nor having a hand in its construction. Those secrets, it seemed, belong to the Primarch alone.

“Everyone form on me,” he ordered over the comm. “Lateral line with spacing. We walk north towards the waypoint, report anything on or under the snow.”

The ID tags on his battlemap began to move his direction, so David slowly began walking out from under the Dragon’s wing and away from the dropships, which he’d brought along some Regulars to stand guard over. He commed them for a quick check, then turned on his Pefbar and focused it down into the snow and ground beneath, looking for any signs of the tunnel exit as he walked forward.

David got a brief headache as he suddenly was able to see every single falling snowflake in crystal clarity…but then his mind adjusted to the overload of data and he was able to ignore it as he focused on the ground, seeing his team’s signals beginning to stretch out on both his left and right into a shallow ‘V’ that gradually straightened into a flat line as they all trudged their way forward through the thick snow.

Below the recent snow was a thicker, denser pack that supported their weight…and below that was a sheet of ice covering the dirt. In some places David could see deep enough to encounter the bedrock, but if there was a tunnel exit nearby he shouldn’t have to look that deep, for The Word would need access through the dirt, so whatever they’d built here had to be shallow.

And whatever they’d built here either had to have its own vehicles or arrange for a pickup, because there were no roads nor any signs of civilization this far north, which made David wary about what they were about to butt heads with.

“Got something,” Harry-8334 reported.

David glanced at his position on the battlemap, for he couldn’t see more than two men down either side with the blowing snow obscuring his vision and now covering most of his own green armor.

“What do you see?”

“Subsurface structure buried in the snow. Nothing up top though.”

“Everyone, rendezvous at Harry’s position and give me a perimeter scan,” he said, heading his way. “And watch out for concealed turrets.”

David accelerated up into as much of a run as he could manage with his feet sinking into the snow up to his knees, and got over to Harry just after his own Pefbar penetrated down to the squarish vertical rectangle that the acolyte had discovered.

“What do you make of it?” Harry asked, knowing the ranger’s psionic skills were well beyond his own.

“I can see the tunnel beneath it. It dead ends here,” he said, trying to get as much information out of his senses as he could. “Nobody’s down there that I can detect.”

David set up three new waypoints heading north from his position along the length of the fairly deep tunnel that he just saw eeking off in that direction.

“I need psionic sweeps at and around these points. Mechanisms and minds.”

“On it,” one of the acolytes responded, with several more joining him as their dots on the battlemap repositioned.

“It looks like a lift shaft,” Harry commented. “But it looks incomplete, like they dug and built it here all the way out from their base and never finished it. It’s still got several meters of dirt overtop.”

“Nearly right,” David confirmed, dropping to a knee as he continued to mentally scan the area below. “There’s a flat top to it, but inside there’s a rotor assembly.”

“I…there, ok, I can just make that out. But what’s a giant fan going to do if it’s not connected to the air?”

“Not a fan, an auger,” David said, dropping all the way to his chest in the snow to get his head a bit closer. “It’s meant to drill the last bit up to the surface.”

“Emergency exit?”

“Possibly…which would explain why there’s no guards,” he said, switching to teamcomm. “Anyone find anything?”

He got back a host of negatives, confirming his suspicion that this wasn’t a tunnel shaft that was being used by The Word.

“So we need to dig down to it?” Harry asked.

“Maybe,” David said, focusing his Pefbar into as narrow a cone as he could to reach down to the base of the vertical rectangle where the tunnel met with it.

Suddenly there was a rumble from underneath and David jumped to his feet. “Maybe not. Everyone fall back,” he said, planting a special waypoint on the battlemap for them to scatter away from.

Beneath them David and some of the others whose Pefbar was advanced enough saw the rotor blades begin to spin within their casing, then once they got up to speed they elevated and broke through the thin metal, digging into the dirt and rising up towards the surface.

As David ran through the snow he looked back visually, seeing a mound of snow push up from below, then a stream of dirt burst out, blanketing the white landscape with something their eyes could actually lock onto. A few seconds later the dirt flew off the rotating auger as it came into view, with the square shaft rising up to the surface underneath it, forming a metallic hut that the falling snow started to blanket.

The rotors spun to a stop and David walked back over to it, hiking up and over a meter thick mount of snow/dirt around the new pavilion and stepped inside the two opposite walls, getting some cover from the snow as he spotted a control panel.

“It’s a lift,” he said over the comm. “Five with me, then come down in shifts.”

David switched his comm over to a frequency that would reach the dropship pilots, then ordered them to reposition their circle around the lift shaft as Harry and four other Archons stepped inside shoulder to shoulder with him, leaving just enough room for them to maneuver if/when combat broke out, otherwise they could have squeezed in more than twice that number.

David pressed the ‘down’ button and the floor began to lower them into the metallic hole. Once their heads passed below the rim and descended another two meters, an iris closed above them, shutting out the cold and the dim light, leaving them in total darkness.

Fortunately that wasn’t a problem, given that their Pefbar allowed them to see quite well, not to mention that their armor also had lights if needed, though none of the Archons turned them on, not wanting to make better targets for themselves when the lift reached the bottom.

There was no door on it, so a crack formed at their feet first, then it expanded up into a full square opening that led them into a very wide and deep tunnel at the base of what looked like a loading dock and a pair of ramps…with absolutely no one in sight.

Harry noticed the single control panel on the wall beside the lift shaft, noting it only had one button.

“You pressed that from up there?”

“Barely,” he admitted. “Saves a lot of digging.”

“No lights,” Mike-10395 observed, looking at the ceiling and walls that were clearly synthetic rather than having been cut out of rough stone…then again, with an Ocean nearby one didn’t want to have to worry about potential leakage. Still, this tunnel entrance was the nearest to the base coordinates at some 420 miles away, meaning someone had gone to a lot of work to carve out and line the tunnel…yet they hadn’t bothered to add lights?

“Maybe they haven’t finished yet, or maybe they don’t need them,” David said, pressing the ‘up’ button on the lift and hopping off it as it returned back to the surface so the next group could make their way down. “That’s a lot of tunnel to light if you’re hardly ever going to use it.”

“We would,” Mike noted.

David frowned as the lift disappeared above the entrance. “Point.”

“You think the other tunnels are like this?” Harry wondered.

“No, I think we got the spare,” David said as he got on the teamcomm. “Looks like we’re going to need the mongooses after all. Get them unpacked once the dropships move. Should be able to fit four.”

“Wide tunnel,” Harry remarked after he’d finished. “Too big for this little exit.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” another acolyte remarked. “Unless all the tunnels are the same size.”

“A lot of extra digging,” Harry replied, with the Archons looking out down the tunnel as far as their Pefbar would allow. They could see the floor, walls, and pointed ceiling forming a house-like pentagon, but there was nothing visible as the tunnel disappeared beyond their view a few dozens of meters ahead, depending on the individual Archon.

David went ahead and flicked his suit’s lights on, but they didn’t penetrate much further. The other five did likewise, brightening the immediate area with small floodlights, but the massive tunnel, easily wide enough to hold a four-lane highway, swallowed them up, not letting them see very far ahead, but according to the reconnaissance scans the tunnel descended at a shallow angle until it reached a depth of several kilometers below the seafloor, then it flattened out and wiggled its way out towards the center of the Arctic, intersecting with another spur line before connecting to the main base.

There were no other stops, so far as the limited scan could see, but a small outcropping or checkpoint wasn’t out of the question…though David got the feeling they weren’t going to find anything but empty tunnel until they got out to their destination.

It took longer than he expected for the first group of mongooses to come down. They’d packed them into the dropships in case there wasn’t any local Word transportation for them to pirate, given the hundreds of miles that they weren’t going to travel on foot. Each of the mongooses had been equipped with a backup fuel canister underneath the seat sufficient to get them out and back at least once on the furthest length of tunnel…with David’s being the shortest of them all, meaning they shouldn’t have any problems, and could probably make it on a single load, but given the lengths involved they didn’t want to take chances, which is why they brought a mongoose for each person, giving them the option to double up if one or more became damaged.

This was The Word after all, and even though he didn’t feel like there was any danger here, they weren’t above using booby traps, so they’d also brought a long a few multi-seaters that could carry extra gear, including some drones. Only if they got very lucky would they get to the base and find the doors open, and with this entrance not having any defenses whatsoever David pretty much ruled out that possibility.

Whatever was waiting for them they’d tackle while the drilling team created their own back door…he just hoped the base didn’t have a self-destruct nuke tucked away, and they’d brought ultra-sensitive detectors to try and smoke out that possible threat, but if it was well-shielded they’d never know until it was too late.

Which was why the drones got to go first, both in the tunnels and the drilling shaft.

Once all 32 Archons and their rides were down the shaft…with the mongooses having to be pushed more than driven through the thick snow…David mounted up his low to the ground four wheeler with a small gear satchel attached to the back in place of a second rider and trolled his way up to the front of the group, with the onboard lights punching much further down the tunnel than their armor’s had…yet still they were ate up by the distances involved.

“Travel by twos,” David ordered, pulling out ahead but at a speed the others could easily match as they formed up. “3 second spacing. If we come up on something I don’t want us pancaking. If anyone has trouble say so immediately. It’s a long walk back if you fall off the group, and the tunnel is smooth enough we’re going to be moving fast. Let’s go.”

David, now with Harry flanking him on the left and both of them with meters of space between them and the walls, accelerated smoothly, dragging the others behind him in a long convoy of nearly silent vehicles, but with the lack of any other sounds they made for a buzzing swarm of bees as they zipped off down the annoyingly straight tunnel, with David feeling the slight downhill as he passed 100km per hour. He continued to accelerate further, eyes focused ahead in case any obstruction might occur, but none would come.

Over the next several hours the mongooses would fly down empty tunnel enroute to the branch point…which was likewise undefended. It was merely a splitting of the tunnel, with no sign of anyone in either direction. The spur turn was the largest they had to navigate, but while the rest of the tunnel appeared straight there were very shallow adjustments as it almost imperceptibly zigzagged its way across the Arctic bedrock, allowing the mongooses to maintain their high rate of speed.

The closer they got to their target the more angst David felt. He knew the drilling team was even now coring its way down to the base, and he wondered how close they had to get to breaching before The Word would become aware of their activity. If it’d been Star Force, they would have put some small sensors on the Ocean floor above, or maybe that was just paranoid thinking. After all, The Word had built this base by digging under the Arctic because they couldn’t venture out into the ocean without Star Force’s aquatics fleet noticing.

So no, they probably didn’t know they were being drilled down to, but thanks to David’s group’s easy insertion, it was questionable as to who would get to the target first, and what they would find when they got there.

David didn’t like going in blind, but given the size of these tunnels, the obvious difficulty in crafting them, and the fact that only the Masters knew of their existence told him that this was finally the rat hole Star Force had been looking for the past 45 years, and he was eager to get inside and ruin their day.

3

After more than 5 hours of travelling through the dark, annoyingly straight tunnel the view ahead finally changed. What had been a black pit directly ahead of them solidified in the faintest glare of their headlights and David immediately eased off the accelerator.

“Hold up,” he ordered, gradually slowing down his mongoose to a stop as the rest of them caught up and idled behind him, still keeping decent formation spacings. David activated the zoom on his helmet and got a decent look at what appeared to be a massive door or wall ahead, blocking the tunnel off, though they were still far enough away that the dim lighting wasn’t very distinct, and they were so far away he didn’t have a hope of reaching out with his psionics for any additional information.

“Break out a drone,” he ordered, flicking on his Pefbar and adding it to the view of dozens of mongoose lights just before there was a small flash ahead, followed by a super-loud ping/screech as something flew past them over their heads…then the boom of a cannon caught up to them as it reverberated down the tunnel.

“Get against the walls!” he said over the comm as he drove his mongoose up against the right side just as another ping/screech sounded, this time closer to them and he could see just a tiny blur of a projectile coming up from a low angle as it deflected off the floor of the tunnel and passed through the Archon formation…hitting one of the multi-seaters.

The four wheeler got hit in the back quarter, shredding and spinning it about at the same time while throwing the single rider and cargo off violently into the side wall, with the momentum transferring and pushing the broken vehicle back down the tunnel the way they’d come.

“Eyes on with snipes, rockets ready,” David said, having neither on his mongoose, but he knew others did. “What have we got?”

Another projectile whizzed by them, this time not hitting the floor until it was passed them all, and David could see it gouge out a shallow trench in the floor where it hit.

“Cannon attached to the ceiling,” one of the acolytes reported. “Marking now.”

“Take it down,” David said unnecessarily, for a split second later a rocket whizzed back the other way, followed by two more at intervals, streaking down the long tunnel towards the laser dot the sniper had on the inverted tank turret. Another projectile shot through the Archons before the first of the rockets hit, followed quickly by the others.

“Target neutralized,” the sniper reported.

“Anyone hit?”

“Just got my bell rung...but my mongoose is toast,” the Archon that had went flying said as he leaned against the wall while he got his spinning head under control.

“Get a drone out and up there,” David said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Let’s see what else they’ve got waiting for us.”

After a couple of minutes of unpacking, a little dog-sized remote control drone zipped past David and headed up towards the wreckage of the cannon turret, still too far away for David to see, even with zoom. He altered his comm settings and pulled the transmission frequency from the drone so it showed in a small popup window on his HUD, giving him an eyes-on view of the tunnel as the end doors/wall gradually grew larger.

He guessed they were at least a half mile away, but by the amount of time it took the drone to travel the distance it might have actually been farther. Eventually the view of the doors widened, including a crack between the two half, confirming that they actually were doors and not the back wall of a perpendicular tunnel crossing, with a junked turret still hanging from the peak of the ceiling over a small debris pile beneath it.

As David watched a trio of small objects rose up from the floor, looking for all the world like Doctor Who’s Daleks. A few moments later they started acting like them too, firing blue plasma streaks out towards the drone and knocking it offline with 3 quick hits.

“Anti-personnel turrets,” David announced unnecessarily, for the rest of them had been watching as well. “I want snipers with eyes on along the walls while the rockets advance up the center with me. Mongooses stay put.”

“I’ve got a bead from here,” one of the snipers offered.

“How stable?”

“Twitchy, but I think I can chew it up a bit.”

“Give it a try.”

With the words barely out of his mouth a yellow lachar flash lit up the tunnel, followed by four more in rapid succession, then one of the other snipers observing chimed in.

“He’s making good hits. I think we might be able to take them all out from here.”

“Please do,” David prompted, with seven other snipers starting to take pot shots at the turrets…that suddenly decided to retract into the floor.

“Damn it, they pulled them back in.”

“Hold on,” David said, pulling a pack of explosives off his mongoose and setting it on the floor before he hopped on. “I’ll get their attention. Rockets and two snipers move up to half distance and stand by.”

David turned his mongoose back on and slowly rolled it out and hugged the right side of the tunnel, giving the snipers as much room as possible. His armor could stand up to a few wayward shots, but he wasn’t eager to take any friendly fire. He gave the snipers some time to reposition as he maintained his right side line and accelerated up to about 30 kph and held that speed, zooming ahead with his helmet and looking for any surprises, intent on stopping where the drone had been killed.

He didn’t get that far before a couple of the turrets popped out of the ground and started firing at him…with several yellow flashes answering back. Both hit, with the former impacting David on the chest and being repelled by his shields at first, then one hit lower and punched a hole in the mongoose’s front bumper shield, but it didn’t slow the machine.

The leftmost turret blew apart after a few well-placed hits…then it was replaced by four more popping up, one of which came out of the wall.

David slid the mongoose to a stop just short of where the dead drone lay as the plasma and lachars crisscrossed, then it took a few too many hits and lost power…as did his shields as they were overwhelmed with several consecutive hits, leaving the remaining plasma streaks to gouge into his green armor.

The Archon jumped off the mongoose into a backflip and came down behind it for some cover to let his shields regenerate as the snipers continued to do damage to the turrets that were just a bit too far ahead of David for him to see with his Pefbar, but he could confirm that there were no minds around the tunnel doors and turrets, meaning all of these were automated/remotely controlled defenses.

He pulled his plasma pistol off his back rack, kicking himself for not bringing a rifle. The one he had on his back was a stinger, given that they planned to take The Word personnel prisoner. Some of the other Archons had plasma rifles and a mix of other weapons, but not him. He just had a plasma pistol and a bunch of ammo, along with a stinger pistol and rifle, plus some Kiritas grenade/mines that he was still too far away to use.

“Rockets ready,” someone said over the comm as David ducked down behind his quickly shredding mongoose corpse.

“Test shot…don’t waste ammo,” he said, showing nerve under fire as a single rocket zipped past him. He couldn’t see it hit, but he could hear the explosion.

“Door hit,” Harry told him, referencing the fact that it had missed the small turret and blasted into the barrier behind it…which was ok, given that David expect them to have to blow their way through anyway.

“Get closer,” he said as his shields flicked back on, indicated by an icon on his helmet’s HUD.

“Permission to get reckless?” Harry asked.

“Define reckless.”

“Mongoose plus det pack.”

David smirked inside his helmet. “Don’t hit the drone on the way by…or me.”

“Keep your head down.”

David did as instructed, though there wasn’t much of the mongoose left to hide behind. He’d resorted to dropping down on his belly to stay behind some of the debris, but the turrets kept pounding it, whether on auto-tracking or remote he wasn’t sure, but they were methodically eating up his cover, with one of the rear tires exploding into a spray of rubber just before another mongoose zipped past him and drew their fire.

Harry’s icon fell off behind it, though David couldn’t see anything directly, and it stayed put on the ground as they both waited several long seconds for the very large boom to come. When it did the loose mongoose parts blew back over top of him in the concussion wave, exposing him a partial view ahead.

“Turrets neutralized,” Harry reported with obvious satisfaction in his voice.

David stood up, brushing the debris off him just in time to see some 6 more pop up out of the floor and walls and start shooting at the two of them.

“To hell with this,” David said, reaching into his pack and pulling out a partial glove that he slipped over his right hand. “Rockets get as close as you have to and light these bastards up. I’ll draw out the rest,” he said as two came by him in the tunnel before he’d even finished talking. He ran by Harry, who was already side pedaling to get out of the way, then pulled out a Kiritas grenade from his pack with his left hand and rubbed it against the activation pad on his right, taking several plasma hits to his shields that quickly went down again.

Harry pulled out a plasma rifle and started taking aim at the turrets, hoping to draw at least some of their fire away from David or knock one of them out as he ran forward, but held his position against the wall, neither advancing nor retreating as his shields also went down.

Rockets and lachar flashes filled the tunnel behind them and poured in on the turrets, blowing apart 3 of them almost instantly, with more of the trashcan-sized pylons popping up to replace them, including some coming down from the ceiling around the remains of the cannon turret. As he soaked up plasma hits on his armor, David sidearmed the remote grenade towards the nearest one then dropped to a knee, keeping his eye on the hockey puck with his thumb rubbing the detonation trigger on his right hand.

When it bounced off the floor and skidded up next to one he triggered it, blowing apart half the device, but not able to take out the firing eye that shot back at him once before a pair of sniper shots finished it off as they deftly found the hole in the casing he’d just made.

More turrets popped up and more got knocked down by the rockets, with David advancing a few more steps, arming another grenade and hurling towards a target, detonating when it got where he wanted it, then repeating the process several more times as his armor got very chewed up…but he knew he was the only one in the group with the denser ranger plates, so if someone was going to play bait it had to be him.

Eventually the defenders ran out of turrets, thankfully before the Archons ran out of rockets, but as David cautiously walked up towards the debris field around the heavily damaged but as of yet unpenetrated doors his mask filters locked up. He frowned and looked around the area, stretching out his Pefbar into spotlight mode and searching the walls…finding small ventilation shafts that were pumping out a cloud of toxic smoke that was quietly mixing in with the dust from the rocket explosions.

“Damn it,” he said, knowing that he only a few minutes of reserve air to work off of. They could retreat back down the hall, for he doubted they had enough poison to fill it all up, but it would be taking them in the wrong direction and buying time for the enemy…something they couldn’t afford.

David picked the weakest spot on the now damaged door and chucked a grenade towards it, telekinetically stopping it before it hit, then wedging it into a nook before letting go and detonating, then he checked with his Pefbar to see how thick the door was, finding in that spot it only had a few inches of material left.

David marked that position with a waypoint on their battlemap and stepped to the side, ignoring the toxins pouring out around him.

“We’ve got toxic gas coming in near the doors. I want every rocket we have left to hit the waypoint, and start bringing up the remaining det packs. We have to break through now,” he said as he slowly walked away from the doors as the rocket streaks started coming in and exploding behind him.

He couldn’t see much from the distant mongoose lights, nor his own armor lights, but in his Pefbar he caught all of them as they passed, along with the explosions behind him, allowing him to monitor the damage even with his back to the doors.

“Cease fire,” he ordered some 35 seconds later when he spotted a hole forming. Once the rockets fell silent he ran over to it, knowing his oxygen was still on the clock, and examined the basketball-sized hole beaming with light from the far side. He pulled out and primed three grenades and wedged them in and around the hole, with him having to telekinetically hold one in place as he backed up.

When he trigged them all simultaneously the hole expanded out wide enough for a single person to climb through…which he did after a quick Pefbar check of the far side. Going through head first in a gymnastic spillover that had his chest armor leaning on the bottom edge of the hole so he could squeeze his pack through the top, he rolled out into a bad somersault and fell off to the side, due to his lumpy pack. He got to his feet quickly and looked around, seeing a small clump of mini-skyscrapers and other buildings directly ahead underneath a very high and well lit dome.

Around the perimeter was an open ring that he now stood in, with The Word city inside covered with numerous Star Force ID tags.

“I’m through,” he said over teamcomm, walking away from the breach point and having his filters unlock and start drawing in fresh air, thankfully. He looked up at the top of the dome and saw a tiny hole in the ceiling plates where the drill team had come through, realizing that they had beat his team here and were already engaged.

“Everyone get in here, we’re late for the party,” he said, switching comm frequencies. “Status report?”

“Hey boss, glad you finally showed up,” Nathan replied. “We’re in a bit of a pickle right now.”

“What have you got?” David asked, walking a bit further away and looking around, unable to see anything on the outer ring that was completely devoid of buildings or other objects. The dome arched straight down into the floor, with two other large door entrances spaced around the perimeter as evidenced by the battlemap that was now updated with the information the drill team had already gathered.

“Walkers, small quadrupeds and one big biped. Big one shot up on our way down, with a couple of guys falling and getting messed up really bad. They’re alive and we’ve got them out of the fire in a building, but we’ve got our hands full. There are a lot of stationary turrets that we’ve been working our way through, but the big one is preventing us from bringing anyone else down from up top. We’ve got 9 down here and not much in the way of plasma weapons to work with.”

“David, glad somebody finally showed up,” Rikku broke in. Apparently the ranger had been one of the first ones down.

“There’s gas at our entrance. They using it anywhere else?”

“Not that I know of. It’s all walkers and turrets in here…with no people that I’ve been able to find, though we haven’t had much of a chance to look. I can’t sense any within Ikrid range.”

“Hiding or bugged out?” David said, hearing footsteps approaching from one of the narrow streets between buildings as his team began to come through the door hole one at a time.

“Don’t know.”

“Stand by,” David said, running up towards the noise and pulling out his plasma pistol just before a horse-sized quadruped walker moved out and swiveled its dual back turret his way. It pumped more plasma into his already damaged armor, with his shields holding up against the first two shots before going down again.

David shot back, but rather than gun it out with the thing he sprinted towards it and slid underneath the legs, jamming his own between its metallic supports and twisting them askew. With some heavily applied leverage he tipped the beast over onto its side and kicked his way free before climbing up over onto the back and pumping four shots directly into the turret barrels and slagging them as the walker started to stand up despite the Archon’s weight on it…which wasn’t much with him weighing about 225 lbs including armor and pack.

David stayed on top of the thing as it righted itself, pumping shots into the main casing until he melted through, then he tossed his weapon aside and pulled out a grenade, primed it as the thing tried to buck him off, then pushed it into the hole…or tried, for he did fall off the second time.

The grenade fell askew, but with a quick reacting telekinetic grab he redirected it back into the hole then blew the thing, popping out the armor plates like a flower and leaving the dead hulk of the walker standing erect like a dead AT-AT.

“Sorry,” David said, getting back on the comm. “You guys in any immediate trouble?”

“We’re holding on our,” Rikku replied, “and thinning out the stationary turrets where we can. It’s the big mech we don’t have the firepower to take down.”

David looked on his battlemap for the tag, and found the enemy mech just outside his view behind the buildings around the ring to his right.

“I’m on it. Any signs of a self-destruct?”

“Not yet, but we’ve been pretty busy so don’t hold me to it.”

“Keep your eyes peeled. We’ll take care of the mech.”

“Have at it,” Rikku prompted.

“Need help?” Nathan offered.

“Nope, he’s mine,” David said, running off along the buildings in its direction.

4

“How many rockets do we have left?” David asked over his teamcomm as he poked his head around the corner of one of the buildings and got eyes onto the mech as it twisted to the left and fired its two arm-based plasma cannons up to the ceiling as a rope dropped down from the drill hole. The plasma melted it in half even as a couple other Archons were peppering the mech’s legs with small arms plasma fire, trying to create a distraction.

Once the bottom half of the rope fell, the biped mech twisted its torso around and angled its arms down and fired into the street gap between buildings as the Archons fled back to cover, with David spotting a bulgy rocket pod over its right shoulder along with what looked like a stubby head.

“Seven left,” Harry reported after taking a quick count.

“Get up here and unload on the thing. Everyone else into the streets and go after the quadrupeds…and stay away from the big one. It’s got a pair of heavy plasma cannons, but it looks too large to move anywhere aside from the outer ring.”

“And the tunnels?” Harry guessed.

“Probably,” he answered as the first of the rocket launcher toting Archons came up behind him. “Pick a spot and everyone hit it. We can’t afford to scatter fire.”

“We still have some det packs,” Synker-8299 suggested.

David pulled one of the silver discs out of his pack and held it up for Synker to see. “I still have some of these. Get me a hole in the armor if you can.”

“Pick your spot,” the acolyte said as two more rocket launchers caught up to them, each with three rounds that they’d collected from the others.

David grabbed his plasma pistol in his right hand and leveled it at the back of the big mech and fired a single shot, making a tiny pot mark just below the ‘head’ and off to the right. The mech didn’t respond to the sting, but continued to take pot shots the other way as it walked further around the ring and temporarily out of sight.

“As fast as you can,” David said as the foursome ran up, with him diverting into a side street as he continued to talk on the comm. “Don’t shoot anywhere else if it turns around,” he said, running to the nearest cross street and ducking to the right, intent on getting ahead of it in case it did turn around.

But between him and it was another quadruped roaming moving up the street, with him turning right into its firing path. Wanting to save his grenades he exchanged plasma pistol fire with it, eventually winging the turret and knocking out one of the barrels before he got up to and jump kicked it down onto the ground…along with himself as he fell off.

He pumped several more shots into the turret then took off running again, not sure if he’d completely disabled it or not, but needing to get over to where the mech was.

David passed the next side street, noticing another Archon to his far left taking on another quadruped, along with several other hulks further into the tiny city. Up ahead there was a junked turret that Rikku’s team had already gotten to, and David noticed that it was the same rising variety that they’d encountered back in the tunnel.

After that he began noticing more circles on the ground, possibly additional turrets that hadn’t been raised yet, but he didn’t have time to try and dig them out. When he came up to the next side street he turned right…then skidded to a halt and backtracked as he saw the mech looking at him from the other end.

David ducked into the other side of the intersection just as the first rocket slammed into the mech’s back…then after that David didn’t see anything, but on his battlemap the mech icon began to move, so he reversed his direction again and headed back into the street, just seeing the right arm of the biped disappear to the right behind the buildings.

He sprinted forward, only to have one of the hidden turrets pop up ahead of them and start shooting. His shields indicated that one of his emitters had been fried, leaving his maximum shield strength at 82%...and he knew that with a few more armor hits the rest would go out too, leaving his chewed up plates as his only defense. But the mech came first, so he ran into the oncoming fire, dodging this way and that to make some of the shots miss, then skidded to a halt right in front of the turret and fired his plasma pistol into the ‘eye’ where it had no plating and melted the firing chamber.

The next shot it tried to fire blew the whole thing up like a grenade, tossing David into the building on the right as he tried to run past. He slumped to the ground, shook his head once, then got back to his feet and sprinted on, coming up to the outer ring and poking his head around the corner where he saw the mech walking off chasing after the rocket launchers with a bit of armor damage in the back…but not enough to penetrate all the way into the interior.

David took a breath then ran after it, pulling out a Kiritas grenade and arming it in his right palm. When he got partway up to the mech he stretched out his Pefbar to see into it, confirming his suspicion that it was carrying some very thick armor plates…then the mech stopped and began to twist its torso around to target him.

“Damn it,” he said, turning hard right and ducking into the closest side street just as it fired its right arm plasma cannon.

The blast just missed his feet as he dove into cover, but his diversion got the mech’s back exposed again and three more rockets flew in, causing the mech to pause as it decided who to shoot at, eventually picking David and walking out in front of the street so it could fire down it.

As it did David backtracked and ducked underneath its legs, running out the back side before it could move and step on him. He kept jerking around, avoiding its steps and arms while getting it to turn its back again on the rocket launchers, getting the 7th rocket to come in and hit the damaged area, reducing the armor there to less than an inch of thickness.

As if in response to the mech’s inability to get at David, two quadrupeds popped out onto the outer ring and came towards them, firing their turrets with impunity, unafraid of damaging their bigger twin with leg shots.

David knew he couldn’t take them down from range with his pistol, so he tagged them with a waypoint requesting fire support, then he worked his way around until he got a clear view of the mech’s back and flipped an active grenade up towards it, telekinetically steering it into the breach.

He wedged it in as best as he could, then ducked out of the way of a backwards step by the mech’s big foot and detonated it, seeing with his Pefbar that there was still a bit left, but only a couple of millimeters, though he couldn’t measure accurately at this range. He saw enough to know he needed another, so as the quadrupeds kept melting additional divots in his armor, he activated and slung another grenade up, steering it into place.

When it blew it knocked out a tiny section of the armor, which David immediately followed up with another grenade, forcing it inside and blowing apart the innards of the mech and expanding upon the hole in the armor slightly…but it wasn’t enough, for the big machine continued to move about and fire.

Fortunately the quadrupeds got flanked a moment later, with one turning to deal with the approaching Archons and the other still tracking David, only to get forcibly knocked over with a jump kick by Rikku. Her green armored hands shot into the turret top and physically wrenched it off the machine as the one behind her got bathed in plasma fire from a side street.

The mech rotated around to shoot at Rikku, but she sprinted up and got underneath its legs along with David, who sent her a quick telepathic message. The other ranger moved to the side as the mech repositioned, then put her hands together into a makeshift step and waited for David, who ran up and put his foot in her hands.

She used all her strength to get him as much height as possible, which was just enough for him to snake a hand into the breach point. He held on and leveraged himself up into a two-handed hold, then swapped a hand for a foot and climbed up on top of the mech’s shoulder where he did a spread eagle to try and hold on as the mech shifted about.

Rikku ran off out of sight of the mech and ducked into a side street before it could fully turn around, leaving David alone to wrestle with it, now that the two quadrupeds were down.

He waited till it settled and got up to a knee…only to have it pitch forward and try to dump him off, but he got a hand on one of its edges and held on, then pulled himself back up to the peak and wedged his feet against the side of the missile box and his right forearm against the flat ‘head’ while he ducked his free left hand into his pack and pulled out another grenade. He swiped it against the activation pad on his right hand then repositioned himself as the mech jerked again, taking a brief moment of opportunity to reach down and tuck the grenade inside the hole.

David didn’t detonate it, but reached into his pack and dug out three more in sequence, having to be very careful not to get bucked off. He activated each of them and stuffed them inside, saving his last two as he slid his legs around and dropped off the back. He crunched into a ball on impact, then took off sprinting away as he thumbed the detonator button on his right hand.

He felt and heard a small boom from the grenades, then a much larger one as the internal detonation reached up into the missile box and triggered the missiles’ fuel loads to combust. When David swung around the closest corner and into a side street he glanced back, seeing that the mech was missing its right arm and a third of its torso…as well as standing perfectly still.

“Sweet,” Rikku commented.

“Is it dead?” David asked.

“I’d say so…and there’s no pilot. Which means someone has been driving it by remote.”

David frowned, running back out cautiously and down towards the mech that had its back to him. When he got up to it, running well wide of the direction its remaining arm was pointing, he looked inside the damage and confirmed that there was no pilot’s compartment.

“Has anyone seen or felt any Word personnel?” David asked over the all Star Force channel.

“Nothing,” Nathan said after a long period of silence. “Looks like they rabbited.”

“Someone has to be controlling these defenses, and I doubt its anything other than a local link.”

“Hold up,” Jet broke in. “There’s someone down deep. I can barely sense him.”

“I’m on my way. Everyone else keep cleaning up.”

Devin sat on the front edge of the 10-wheeled, flatbed transport as it rolled down the dark tunnel without so much as a bump to break up the monotony. Two more transports followed behind them with the rest of his assault team onboard. They’d had to fight their way through a small fortification at the tunnel entrance, disabling some 6 guards who’d been on station in the subsurface bunker that was topped off with a food processing factory.

The tunnel itself was blocked off by a small fortification with remote turrets that they’d had to fight their way through, though they and the guards didn’t provide much trouble for the Archons. Devin figured they were there to keep factory workers out should they have happened across the well-disguised entrance in one of the spare storage rooms.

The factory was in northern Russia, and Devin’s team had appropriated the transports from within the tunnel itself. They’d been parked at the entrance awaiting cargo shipments, he assumed, and the Archons had taken them and the guards and started the hundreds of miles trek atop the open air transports. Other than the wind and the whine of the engines and tires, Devin could have swore they were still parked, making for a long, boring drive.

He had his legs hanging off the front and was staring out at the short stretch of tunnel ahead that the transport’s flood lights illuminated as the walls passed by wide to either side. The tunnel itself was more than wide enough to hold two of the trucks side by side, giving the driver plenty of wiggle room that he didn’t need while traveling down what felt like one very long, perfectly straight underground shaft.

But it wasn’t. Devin was following their progress on his battlemap, which was updating as they traveled. The tunnel had made several slight redirects as it passed underneath the Arctic Ocean, which meant it was cutting off line of sight transmission. They’d passed a spur a little over an hour ago, but hadn’t been able to make contact with the other tunnel team. Devin guessed this was because of the little twists in the tunnels, but if they’d gotten delayed, or somehow were ahead of them, then they might also have been out of range, for their armor’s communication systems would only travel so far.

Still, he was surprised they hadn’t bumped into each other yet, and wondered if Lio’s team might have had more trouble at their entry point than his.

Devin figured they had another couple hours to go before they hit the coordinates of the base, so he sat off the front of the transport, thinking through various scenarios they might face when they got there, when the view ahead suddenly shifted. It wasn’t much, but after such a long time with nothing to see the tiny pinprick of light caught his immediate attention.

Devin grabbed an edge beside him for leverage.

“All stop, lights off,” he ordered.

The transport’s engine wound down and the vehicle slowed, with Devin’s momentum tugging him forward as a result. He held on and inched back a bit so he didn’t fall off as the lights went out and the driver kept them off the walls using his Pefbar alone. When the lead transport finally stopped Devin hopped off two meters down to the ground and landed in a reflexive crouch, then got up and walked forward a few steps as he zoomed ahead with his helmet cam.

There was definitely something coming their way, and they weren’t registering on his battlemap…meaning they weren’t Star Force.

“Reposition the trucks to block the tunnel. Everyone else come forward and line the walls. They may not have noticed our lights yet. Get into flanking position with stingers ready. We want whoever they are alive.”

“I count at least two transports,” Pao-999 said from behind his sniper rifle. He was the only ranger amongst the group, though technically Devin was still in command since Green Team had the lead on this mission. “Probably more. They’re single file.”

“Let’s move people,” the acolyte said, running down the right side to get enough distance away from their own transports that were now repositioning sideways to cover the full width of the tunnel. If they’d seen the lights they’d stop short or try to blow through, either way the Archons needed to be further out so they could respond. If the lead vehicle rammed the parked ones, the entire convoy would back up, meaning they would already be in position to hit all the vehicles simultaneously…or chase after them should they start to turn around and flee.

Thankfully the oncoming vehicles were further away than they looked, with even the smallest amount of light traveling a great distance in the pitch black tunnel. Once Devin got where he wanted he motioned others on by him so he could be more towards the center.

“Don’t let the last one turn around,” he said, stretching out his Pefbar as wide as it would go so he could see the two Archons on either side of him, but just barely. There he waited, watching the lights growing larger, as if a train was coming their way, then the buzz of their fat tires rotating rapidly reached their position and caused a spike of adrenaline in Devin after so many boring hours of waiting.

“Here…kitty, kitty, kitty,” he whispered as he pulled out his stinger rifle and flattened himself up against the wall, ready to pounce.

5

Devin saw the first transport whip by him a few seconds before he heard it slam on the brakes and skid to a halt just short of the roadblock. The one behind it rear-ended the first, with the others doing the same and stacking them all up as some in the rear started moving sideways and angling for the walls to avoid the pileup as they too slammed on their brakes.

Several of the Archons jumped to avoid the transports, but they came back up a moment later peppering the tops with stingers from the floor or climbing up on top and taking it to the passengers at pointblank range. Devin jumped up onboard the one that nearly smashed him into the wall and unloaded on the 20-30 people onboard, most of whom had fallen over from the sudden stop.

Most didn’t have weapons, with him targeting the few that did first, then hammering those who were closest second, running through his rifle’s clip in under 30 seconds. With his transport secured he pulled out his stinger pistol and looked around in the scattering of flood lights, using both his Pefbar and Ikrid to search for targets…but the others had done their work well and none of The Word passengers were still conscious.

“Front and back…any stragglers?”

“Negative, none got through.”

“None off the back. All are down.”

“Ok, let’s do a head count and get these transports turned around. Stack ‘em up on top,” Devin said, dropping down to the tunnel floor to retrieve the few that had fallen off the side, one of which had a bloody head from the fall.

Devin pulled off an armored glove and pressed his fingers against the side of the man’s head, hacking into his nervous system despite the stun energy fogging up the connection, and confirmed that he was still alive, but he was bleeding considerably from the gash on his forehead and what was probably a broken nose.

The Archon reached into his pack and pulled out a small med kit, placing a healing patch on his head and sealing it in place over the split skin while leaving the nose to clot up on its own. He reached an arm underneath the man’s abdomen and lifted him up over his shoulder, passing him up to Rinan-10339 who was on top of the transport and lining up the unconscious prisoners.

“Devin, got something here you might want to see,” Pao said over the comm.

Devin checked his battlemap and found the ranger’s position further up the line of transports near the blockade point. “On my way.”

He headed up the staggered line, zigzagging between the flat-topped transports until he got to the second in line and climbed up on top. There he found about half the bodies lined up in neat rows with Pao leaning over one with his right hand visible outside his armor as he examined one of them. In his other hand he held a small container that he tossed up to Devin as he approached.

“These look familiar?”

Devin pulled the lid off and looked inside.

“Kill pills,” he confirmed.

“This guy had them on him, but he’s still alive. His head’s murky, but I think he’s one of their leaders.”

“Let me,” Devin said, kneeling down and taking the ranger’s place. Even though he outranked him overall, his Ikrid skills weren’t on par with Green Team’s, given the amount of experience they’d had. In fact, he wasn’t sure anyone else was, trailblazers included.

He pulled off his glove again and pressed his fingertips against the man’s head, finding the stun-induced haze that Pao had referenced, but he was able to dig a bit deeper than the ranger, pulling up some recent memories along with an identity.

“Bingo,” he said, throwing a glance at Pao. “Mr. Primarch himself.”

“Really?”

“Drill team must have spooked them,” Devin said, rolling the man over and getting a good look at his face. He was ‘middle aged’ with a few streaks of grey in his otherwise black hair, and far more fit than the Master David had brought in…though that wasn’t saying much, given that both men clearly weren’t anywhere near to achieving self-sufficiency.

“Where do you want to take them?”

“Nearest Star Force facility is the ship attached to the drill site. We’ll get him out there and decide what to do with the rest of them after we meet up with the others.”

“I’ll take point,” Pao offered, heading up to the back of The Word convoy as the last transports began moving side to side as they tried to turn around in the tunnel.

Devin looked on his battlemap and found one of the other acolytes, opening a secure comm channel to him.

“Kander, get over here. I’ve got your date for the rest of the mission.”

David ran across the city, having to stop only once to help down one of the last quadrupeds roaming about, and got over to the quarter opposite from their entrance where Jet was, scanning the surrounding buildings with his psionics, finding no one inside as Rikku had said. When he got near to Jet he focused his energy fields down into the ground, finding that the buildings went down beneath the floor multiple levels, but the single mind he detected was deeper still.

“He’s really down there,” David commented when he caught up to Jet as he was working his way through one of the buildings’ interior hallways.

“There’s a cross tunnel down there,” Jet said as he passed his fellow Archon. “It’s above him, but I think it might be the way down.”

“I see it,” David said, using his Pefbar to chart out its zigzaggy course beneath them, noticing that it was headed across the street into another building before it stretched out of his range. He followed a step behind Jet down the hall and out of the building, crossing the now quiet street into the neighboring blocky structure.

But it didn’t stop there. It continued on out beneath another building, and another, and another until it eventually wrapped back around on itself, leading them in a big circle.

“Did I miss an entrance somewhere?” Jet asked as they stopped near to where they began.

“Wait a second,” David said, holding still and stretching out his Pefbar as far as it would go and condensing it down into a spotlight to better examine the tunnel. In his mind’s eye he could only ‘see’ a small column, like a flashlight beam, and ran it along the piece of tunnel beneath them. They weren’t far from the source of the mind, which was considerably lower than the tunnel, meaning that if there was a connection below it would probably be near here.

“There,” David said, spotting a tiny connective shaft…or rather a tiny piece of it before his Pefbar range fizzled out. “A downspout.”

“Where?”

“Below the tunnel.”

“Ah…how do we get to the tunnel?”

“One thing at a time,” David said, walking off to follow the tunnel again…this time staying directly over top of it so maximize his limited psionic range, meaning he had to go into a lot of dead end rooms and keep constantly backtracking in order to scan every meter of it from as close as he could get.

It took him three buildings and a few hundred meters away from the source of the mind before he found a small deviation in the tunnel…a side shaft, less than a third of the tunnel’s width.

“Can you see that?” David asked Jet, stopping directly over top of the junction.

“What am I looking for?” the Archon asked, concentrating.

“A tiny connection on the left. It’s hazy even for me.”

Jet dropped down to all fours and pushed his head as close as he could get to the floor. “Maybe a little. My Pefbar is junk at that range. I can only see big objects.”

“Mine’s not much better, but we need to follow that shaft. Go across to the next building and as deep as you can get. See if you can pick it up. I’ll try to find where it goes under here. If it takes a turn I’ll redirect you.”

“On it,” Jet said, jogging off as David moved into the next room and focused hard again to mentally chart out the next few meters of the side shaft. When he got to the wall he had to backtrack and work his way around to the opposite room and pick up the trail there. After that he didn’t have to go far before the shaft made an abrupt turn to the left and interconnected with an equally tiny vertical shaft.

“Jet, never mind. Get back over here,” he said, ducking out of the room he was in and crossing over to another where the shaft came up…but when he got inside there was no visible entrance, just a ghostly ladder shaft behind what appeared to be a solid wall.

David walked up to it, getting a better resolution with his Pefbar the closer he got, and saw a faint line in the wall moving off from it. He followed the line, which he guessed was a wire, keeping his head less than a meter away so he wouldn’t lose it, and followed it around the corner and into a set of wall shelves just as Jet came in.

David pointed towards the spot on the wall, but kept his eyes on the wire until it finally stopped. He pulled a box off of the shelf in front of it and spotted a small shiny circle on the wall behind it. He touched it, with no response, then he removed his glove and did so again…also with no effect.

“Hold contact,” Jet suggested, and David put his thumb back on it. After a couple of seconds the wall segment broke apart on a nearly invisible seam and pushed out into the room in two halves, splitting down the midline.

“Well now,” Jet said, seeing the ladder at the back of the tiny closet.

“Rikku, I think we’ve found our rat hole. What’s your status?” David said as he followed Jet over to the ladder and placed a waypoint on the battlemap to mark its location for the others.

“City is clean as far as we can tell. Still got a lot of buildings to check, but psionics are coming up clear save for your guy.”

“Any booby traps?”

“No, but we haven’t been able to find the controls to open the other two doors either. The computers appear to have been wiped and if there’s a manual release we haven’t found it yet.”

“I have a feeling Mr. Wizard might have the key. Get back to you in a bit.”

“Copy.”

“No door keys,” David told Jet as he grabbed hold of the ladder rungs and followed the Archon down. “The other teams are going to have to fight their way in unless our dude is controlling the defenses.”

“My credits say he is,” Jet said as he stooped down to crawl into the side shaft that was barely a meter tall.  “I’ll bet this guy stayed behind to run the turrets and mechs while the others bolted. I just hope he isn’t sitting on a self-destruct.”

“You read my mind,” David agreed, getting down on all fours and crawling in after Jet. Now that he was down level with the tunnel his Pefbar was giving him a lot more detail, and he could see ahead that the tunnel they’d been chasing was full height as opposed to the shaft they were crawling through.

When they got to the junction there was no door or grate blocking them, just a pitch black tunnel that they stepped out into, using their armor lights and Pefbar to see their way.

“You see anything else down here?” Jet asked as they began walking off down the half of the tunnel that headed towards their Word mind.

“Nothing,” David said as a panel fell shut over the shaft they’d just crawled out of with a loud clank.

“Oh shit,” Jet said as a number of tiny vents opened up at intervals down the hallway releasing more toxic gas.

“Move,” David prompted, with both Archons running towards their target as their filter locks kicked in. They got a few dozen meters before another panel pulled out of the wall in front of them and cut off the tunnel ahead.

“It’s shallow,” Jet said, seeing the panel’s width in his Pefbar before he walked up to it and kicked hard, putting a sizeable dent in it.

“Can you sense him from here?”

“Yes,” Jet said, kicking it in again.

“Fornax range?”

Jet paused, measuring the distance. “Pulse range I think. Want me to keep him occupied?”

David pulled out one of his last two grenades as an answer and activated it in his right palm. Jet backed up several steps and took a knee, facing away from the panel as he stretched out his mind and sent a Fornax blast off into the distance and down, followed by another a couple seconds later as David tossed his grenade towards the panel and telekinetically tucked it up into the right corner at the bottom before blowing it.

Bits of debris hit both Archons’ armor, but the blast broke the panel free and blew the large pieces down the tunnel. David ran through the gap with Jet following as he continued to send repeated Fornax blasts into the not so distant mind as they closed in.

When they got around the next corner in the tunnel they ran up against another panel, with David pulling out his last grenade as the poison gas continued to flow in. He chucked it down into a corner again and blew the barrier out, then ran on up to the next one, whereupon he began punching and kicking dents into it as Jet continued his mental distraction, easier now with closer range but more difficult to continue with each repetition.

It took some 40+ hits/kicks to warp the metallic barrier enough to pop a corner free, then David leveraged his knee into the gap and pushed, bending it aside enough for him to slip through. Jet followed, sensing they were getting close, but finding another panel in their way blocking their access to the vertical shaft that led down to their target.

“Switch,” Jet said, elbowing past David, who took up the Fornax blasts while Jet pounded the panel, one resting his mind while the other rested his muscles. They both knew they only had a few minutes before they ran out of oxygen, so neither Archon was going to waste a second of time.

When Jet had the panel down it proved to be the last, with them climbing down the ladder and coming up to a very solid door into a small room with a man lying on the floor on the far side, visible via Pefbar. While David kept him down Jet searched the opposite side of the door, seeing no latch, lock, or handle on the outside. It took him a few seconds, but he found the interior latch and telekinetically pulled up on it, moving it about half an inch.

“Some help please,” Jet said, pulling again as David added his own telekinetic tug while still maintaining the Fornax blasts. The latch pivoted up and the open sequence activated, with the door pushing in and swinging open.

The two Archons moved inside, David going for the downed man while Jet closed the door behind them, hoping to keep the gas out. It closed slowly, but locked in place with a satisfying hiss.

“Air,” David said as he pulled out his stinger pistol and pumped two green paintball into the man’s chest, knocking him unconscious.

Jet slid into the control chair, around which were three walls’ worth of monitor screens showing everything from the city streets to the base entrances and the poison-filled tunnel they’d just came in through.

“Working on it,” he said, sifting through the controls trying to find the life support systems for the room as he got a ‘low air’ warning on his helmet’s HUD, indicating that he had 60 seconds of air remaining.

David stood up and looked around the room, trying to find something to help with mechanically. He saw a couple of vents in the ceiling, and now that they were inside a lighted room he didn’t see the toxic clouds, but knew enough had gotten in when they opened the door that their filter masks wouldn’t open up.

That meant their friend here was in trouble, but at the moment he didn’t care. He and Jet needed air, and fast.

“Got it,” the other Archon said as David heard the air start to cycle. “Purging protocol.”

“Let’s hope it works fast,” David said, trying to slow his breathing and stretch his air out a few extra seconds…but he needn’t have bothered, for a moment later his mask unlocked, allowing him to draw air directly from the environment, along with his suit starting to replenish its oxygen backup supply in the same manner.

“That was close,” Jet said.

“No kidding.”

“No, I mean this…”

David looked where Jet was pointing and his eyes narrowed when he saw the trigger mechanism for a series of huge gas containers buried deep under the city…enough to flood the entire dome and well out into the three connecting tunnels.

“Why’d he wait?” Jet asked.

“Let’s find out,” David said as he knelt down next to the man whose nose had already started bleeding. He took off his glove and pressed his fingers against his head, resisting the urge to put his forearm on his neck to pull out some of the lingering stun energy to get a better read, but if the man was going to die he might as well do it unconscious.

“David, do you copy?” Nathan’s voice asked over the comm.

“We’re here,” he replied, focusing on the mental link while pointing a finger at Jet, then his own helmet.

The other Archon joined in on the party line, seeing that it involved Nathan. “David’s a little busy. What do you need?”

“We lost contact with you, and there’s a barrier over the shaft you marked.”

“Probably signal loss from being so deep…and the plate you’re referring to is holding back poison gas, so don’t go busting it open just yet.”

“Are you guys trapped?”

“That was the idea, but we got to the rat first. He got a breath or two of his own medicine, but we’ve got the control room now.”

“Good news, because we’ve got a team outside wanting in. Can you open the doors?”

“Hang on,” Jet said, twisting his chair around and looking through his control options. This computer hadn’t been wiped like the others had, but there were also a number of manual controls on the board in front of him. He pulled up a diagram of the base/city with one of them, then highlighted the doors, with his vid screen views changing to show a group of vehicles waiting outside…along with the remains of the turrets that had been defending it. There was also a small hole in the doors that they were apparently communicating through.

With a little exploring he found the open button and triggered all three to open up…then looked for the life support systems for the dome, hoping to initiate its own purging program to get rid of the lingering gas from the tunnel they’d entered from, and probably the other one as well.

“Got it,” Jet said as David released his hold on the man who was continuing to bleed out.

“Who showed up?” David asked.

“Devin’s team is the one held up. Assad’s group came through our door already. Devin’s got prisoners they captured on the way here, a lot of them.”

“Really?” Jet asked, feeling better already.

“They’re holding them back so the gas doesn’t get to them, but they want to evac at least one guy out the drill shaft. Devin says he’s got the Primarch.”

6

March 5, 2451

Solar System

Earth

The Primarch woke up staring at the wall of his cell and blinked off some of the post-stun haze he’d gotten used to over the past few days. Every time the Archons moved him locations they made sure he was unconscious, letting him wake up in a new place with no knowledge of how he’d gotten there.

He rolled over, feeling with his left hand the edge of the bunk he lay on, and twisted enough to see the blue energy field constricting him to a small cell with a pair of Star Force personnel on the other side.

“Morning,” David offered, leaning against the far left wall. The energy field was nearly transparent, with only a slightly colored tint to make both prisoner and guests aware of where the barrier lay.

“Where are we now?” he asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk and sitting up. He reached back a hand and massaged a slight crick in his neck, then ran his fingers up through his salt and pepper hair, trying to judge from the feel of it how many hours it’d been since his last shower. Apparently quite a few.

“Atlantis,” the other man said from the edge of the small table he was sitting on.

The Primarch squinted, recognizing the voice more than the face. “Director…you’re looking well for your age. You really should let the press update your photo profile. You’re getting younger by the decade.”

“They say they’re photoshopped anyway,” Davis replied as he stood up and walked forward, stopping a few inches shy of the energy field. “Some people just don’t understand the concept of self-sufficiency.”

“And where does your ambrosia fit in?” the Primarch asked, standing up and facing off with Davis.

“It’s a supplement that aids training with a mix of structural components and energy enhancements. Sort of a ‘super sugar.’ It doesn’t create the self-sufficiency, and many of our lower level self-sufficient personnel don’t have access to it.”

“But you use it?”

“I do.”

“Then your youthfulness is unnatural.”

“Define natural.”

“That which was predetermined by our genetic code. Alterations to the plan set in place are unnatural.”

“Artificial limbs?”

“Tools…though in Star Force’s case they seem to never be needed. Also several severely disfigured individuals have been miraculously healed after a clandestine visit.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“Such things imply an unnatural medicine, and where there is a deviation from nature there are always consequences. Some unforeseen.”

“You would leave them mangled?” Davis asked as David merely watched from the sidelines, intending to stay out of the conversation.

“They had their chance and it was wasted. Nature will see them replaced with the renewing of each generation.”

“You assume a commonality.”

“Humanity is a commonality.”

“Comprised of individuals.”

“Basic building blocks.”

“That must be bound together by force or choose to operate in concert. The commonality isn’t default.”

“It is default,” the Primarch argued. “The dynamics of connection must be maintained. If they aren’t, fragmentation occurs and your vaunted ‘individuality’ arises.”

“Which you’ll have ample opportunity to study during your 1000 year sentence. As you well know, Star Force prisons operate under isolation protocols. You won’t have any commonality to link with. You’ll have to operate as an individual.”

“Being disconnected from the commonality doesn’t make me any less part of it. We work for the advancement of Humanity. Much of that work is in isolation.”

“We’ll see,” Davis said, knowing from past experience that the isolation protocols forced many individuals through a cleansing fire of silence that resulted in them reverting to a learning state similar to childhood once society’s influence was removed. Like a narcotic, some had more difficulty adjusting to its absence than others.

“After my interrogation?”

“It won’t take as long as you think.”

“If you think I’m going to cooperate, you’re gravely mistaken. I won’t betray The Word.”

“The Word is already dead,” Davis said emphatically. “You’ve been captured, along with all 12 of your Masters…save one, who managed to get to his kill pills before we got to him. We’re interrogating them as well, and as you probably already noticed, we’ve been hitting a lot of your facilities…or did you notice? It hasn’t exactly been on the news.”

“We noticed, but what we didn’t notice was the leak that led you to Olympus.”

“Arrogant name.”

The Primarch raised an eyebrow. “Coming from Star Force I find that statement overly hypocritical, especially since we’re standing in Atlantis.”

“Olympus was the home of the gods. Your insistence on your natural function and limited existence make the name incompatible.”

“I may not live forever, but the Primarch will. Thus the leader of The Word is immortal, as is our cause and function within the commonality.”

“Given to you by whom? The Word didn’t originate with the beginnings of the universe, so I fail to see how it’s a natural function.”

“The function predates the organization. We merely acknowledged its existence and structured ourselves accordingly. We do not create our mandate, only respond to it. Star Force is the unnatural machination.”

“We safeguard Humanity, not The Word.”

“You safeguard against external threats, but do so by corrupting our purpose. One is a noteworthy function, the other is an abomination. We do not wish to end Star Force, merely to put you fully on the proper path which you already have a foot on.”

“Can nature be improved upon?”

The Primarch hesitated, unsure how to answer the question. “Nature provides us with all we need.”

“Technology?”

“Using the tools that are available within the structure of the universe is not contrary to nature, it is a function of it.”

“Yet you decry improvement. How can we be acting contrary to nature if we’re simply using the tools?”

“Misusing the tools,” the Primarch corrected him.

“Define misuse.”

“Utilizing the tools to act counter to purpose rather than to enact it.”

“By attaining self-sufficiency I and my associates are more knowledgeable and powerful, given the amount of training and experience we can accumulate with an unlimited lifespan. This allows us to safeguard Humanity better than a force that continually has to replace its personnel. We are using the tools of nature to accomplish our purpose.”

“But corrupting others in the process. That is not a victory.”

“Nor is it a victory when you have to sacrifice those you are trying to safeguard, for you become the enemy in the process.”

“Lifespans are not unlimited. A loss of a life is merely a premature death. Unfortunate in many cases when viewed from the individual perspective, but so long as the commonality continues, sacrifice can serve a beneficial purpose.”

“If there is a commonality or purpose to life, we are unaware of it. We are born in locations not of our choosing, through parents not of our choosing, at a time not of our choosing. We are thrown into this universe cold…we know nothing of who we are or why we are here, and we enter as individuals. Commonalities try to suppress the individual nature and conscript them into their groups, but it is that individuality that is the fundamental truth to life,” Davis said, getting at the heart of Star Force philosophy.

“We don’t know where we come from, just that we’re here,” he continued. “We have to figure out everything as we go, with our ‘nature’ being default programming inherent in our genetics to allow us to function cold. Sexuality insures reproduction, thirst and hunger encourages refueling, burning lungs triggers a breath. We operate on programing until the individual can learn how to operate their body and mind, and when they do…or perhaps I should say ‘if’ they do…they find the capability to reprogram themselves in order to customize their body and mind as they wish.”

“But we don’t know that when we’re born,” Davis said before the Primarch could utter a rebuttal. “We have to figure it out on our own, and there is so much complexity in the universe that we cannot figure it all out on our own…which is why we intercept individuals when they come into the universe and teach them what we know, skipping them through the ignorance phase and ensuring that most of them will live where otherwise they would not. We encourage the individual’s growth, and from it Star Force finds its strength and purpose.”

“We are all individuals, and to betray one of us is to betray all of us. Sacrifice is abhorrent because it goes against everything we are doing in life, with that being trying to advance, to learn, and to figure out what the hell is going on in the universe. If we die, it will be at the hands of an enemy or by accident. If it is at the hand of an ally or friend, then those terms no longer apply and we’re back to commonalities rather than individuals, for the sovereignty of the individual is the fundamental principle. Abandon it and you abandon reason.”

“Which is why we’re not going to kill you,” Davis finished. “You certainly deserve to die, given the things you’ve either organized or allowed to happen within The Word, but you are an individual, and now that we’ve made sure you’re not in a position to harm anyone else, we’ll leave you to ponder the mysteries of life in solitude. If you can’t understand the concept of self-sufficiency, there will be plenty of training aids made available, as well as workout facilities. You will either learn and grow and attain self-sufficiency…or you will not. If not, you will slowly degrade and die. Your fate is in your own hands, but one way or another The Word dies with you, for if you survive it will be by contravening the ‘nature’ you ascribe to.”

The Primarch crossed his arms over his chest. “So you’re not here to interrogate me. You’re here to pass sentence?”

“I’m here to look the bastard in the eye and see what he’s made of,” Davis said bluntly, allowing a bit of his anger to slip into view. “And I’m not impressed.”

“I am but a part of the whole. You shouldn’t be impressed with me, but I will say I am impressed by you. That you could have come so far and achieved so much while missing the basic truth of life.”

“Which is?”

“It ends. We accomplish a few tasks during our temporary window, advancing the commonality, then we pass on.”

“Obviously not.”

“Your longevity is unnatural, and as such it cannot be sustained. How long it will be before you realize this I honestly cannot say, but I know you merely prolong the inevitable.”

“You can take that and the rest of The Word nonsense to your grave while we live on…unless you wise up. Like I said, it’s a chance we’re giving you that you don’t deserve, but you have it none the less. If you want to commit suicide we won’t stop you, but you’re not going to have our help with it.”

“After the interrogation,” David corrected.

“Yes, after,” the Primarch echoed, looking at the face of the Archon he’d become familiar with during his brief stints of consciousness over the past few days.

“We still have questions that need answering so we can save at least some of the lives you’ve put in harm’s way,” Davis added. “After that your solitude will begin, and you won’t see another living being for the next millennia. So if you feel like talking, now’s the time.”

“Despite your assertions that the Masters have been captured, I only have your word for it,” the Primarch said defiantly, though Davis could detect a bit of trepidation in his eyes. “I won’t give you anything to compromise them…and through them The Word will continue. I am not the first Primarch and I will not be the last. You may have weakened us, but others will continue forward as we fall. That is the nature and structure of life. You can kill the individual, but the commonality will continue.”

“We’re not killing you.”

“So you say. I have yet to experience your interrogation techniques. If you have any skill with them, you would know that survival isn’t guaranteed. Then again, you do have this magical medicine. Will it be used to repair my mangled body?” the Primarch taunted.

Davis stared back at him, then a small smirk tugged its way onto his face. “You think that because I admitted to the existence of ambrosia that you can extract information out of me. You are mistaken. You are still a rookie, and rookies don’t get access to the higher levels of Star Force’s collective knowledge…at least not until you’ve earned it. Prerequisites and all that. Until you master the basics you don’t need to be distracted with the complexities.”

“You delude yourself if you believe I will become one of your initiates.”

“Oh, that won’t be happening. Even if you survive your millennia you won’t ever be allowed into Star Force. I was merely pointing out that your status as our primary enemy, here on Earth at least, doesn’t afford you any special privileges. You’re not our peer. You’re just a twisted kid, and as the days go by that point is going to grow more and more obvious.”

“Years do not necessarily beget wisdom,” the Primarch countered as Davis motioned to David, who hit the energy field release, dropping the blue barrier between them.

“We won’t meet again, so this is me saying goodbye,” Davis said, stepping forward into a short lunge and driving his left elbow into the man’s chest.

The Primarch flew backwards and bounced off the wall, tripping on the bunk that he then fell down onto, unable to get his balance as David sent a weak stream of Fornax energy into him, making him feel far more affected by the hit than he should have been.

Nice form, David commented telepathically as Davis turned his back on the Primarch and casually walked out.

All yours.

The ranger left his perch against the wall and walked over to the Primarch, who he was still feeding a bit of Fornax to keep his body wobbly, and helped him sit up, leaving his hand on the man’s right shoulder with a couple of fingers reaching over and brushing the skin on his neck.

“Packs a punch, doesn’t he?”

“A taste…of what’s to come?” the Primarch asked, his breathing heavy as Davis began hacking into his nervous system and subtly beginning the interrogation.

“No, no…if I hit you I might kill you. Why are all of you guys so pathetically out of shape? You can barely sit up right now.”

“You have unnatural strength. More so than I estimated, or is he as strong as you?”

David smiled, both at the question and the workout thread he identified in the man’s mind that gave him access to the Primarch’s daily routine that included some light running, weight lifting, and yoga…typical ignorant workout fluff, especially the weight lifting. David got a slew of memories from recent lifts, as well as him tearing a quad a couple months ago.

“Not even close,” David said, sending a bit more Fornax out to make the man slump over…all so he could help him sit back up, giving him an excuse for keeping a hand on his neck. “You and I are going to get to know each other very well. My name’s David.”

“Yes…I know. And if you don’t already know my name I’m not going to give it to you.”

As soon as the man said the words his name popped up inside his conscious thoughts, basically handing it to David.

“Do you prefer Jameson, James, or Jim?”

“Jameson will suffice.”

“Alright, Jim. Let’s get you over to a more comfortable room,” he said, pulling him up off the bunk with ease and practically dangling him like a puppet with the wobbly legs the Fornax was giving him. “Then we can start our very long chat. I’ll make sure they bring us some donuts.”

7

March 25, 2451

Solar System

Earth

David sat at the computer console in his room, typing out a report on his interrogation findings for the day while they were still fresh in his mind. He was handling the Primarch while the rest of Green Team was out with Blue and Red teams hitting Word facilities as fast as David and the rest of the interrogators could identify them. Those hits were likewise bringing back with them more prisoners to be interrogated, along with the 11 Masters they already had, which had prompted them to call in all the highest Ikrid-rated Archons within the system to assist with the mass of interrogations.

David and the others knew the faster they could hit The Word operations the more of them they’d be able to sweep up before they had a chance to respond. The cellular nature of their organization, which in the past had always been an advantage, was allowing the Archons to take out one Agent’s operations with the others more or less unaware, for the raids weren’t making the news vids.

Part of him wanted to be out there busting heads, but he knew the interrogation of the Primarch was the highest priority and wanted to get it finished as soon as possible so they could pass him off to a Star Force prison and wash their hands of him. Problem was he had a huge amount of intel, and digging it out of his mind was not a straightforward process…especially when David had to hide the fact that he had the ability to delve into the man’s mind through physical contact.

That said, he was making considerable progress and wanted to get the most recent finds into the computer records before he headed off for his second workout session of the day. He’d gotten all of his core workouts done in the morning before saying hi to the Primarch, but he wanted to get some skill work in this afternoon before he headed back over to assist with the interrogation of Master 2.

Today he’d dug out The Word’s origins from the man’s mind, finding that it had began back in the 2290s in direct opposition to the changes that Star Force was making on Earth…meaning the organization had operated in the dark for years before Davis had picked up on their illicit activity. What their ultimate goals were David hadn’t gotten to yet, but his prying into the Primarch’s mind clearly indicated that the man felt he was but one piece of an ever growing puzzle…a puzzle that Star Force was in the process of putting an end to before it could fully take shape.

David was keeping track of Green Team’s operations in between his interrogation sessions and workouts, all the while tagging new missions for them as he oversaw the collective data files being assembled piecemeal by all the Archons involved in the mass interrogations…which was why he needed to get his latest findings down in a report before the slew of facts he dealt with on a daily basis washed away some tidbits of information that may or may not prove useful in the long run.

‘Type now, think later’ had become his habit, and it allowed him to disassociate one activity from another. Once today’s sessions were over, both his training and the interrogations, he’d thumb through the other recent interrogation reports, as well as the ones from the field missions. From there he’d make adjustments to Green Team’s assignments while throwing others to Blue and Red teams for the insystem work, while Yellow and Orange Teams had already been dispatched to other systems to hunt down Word facilities there.

Purple Team was still standing by, waiting for a different system assignment when the interrogators had weeded out another cell from either the Masters or the Primarch, though from what David was learning the vast majority of The Word’s operations were here in Sol. The other star systems didn’t afford them a great many opportunities to establish independent bases, and with most of the extra-solar colonies being Star Force owned the security was tight enough to constrict Word operations minimal activities.

Where there appeared to be pockets of The Word in other systems was, of course, the national colonies. They were few, meaning most of Star Force’s interstellar empire was untouched by the taint of The Word, but where there was a colony, station, or ship not run by Star Force personnel, The Word would try to insert its people, extending their network of operatives out into previously untouched segments of Humanity.

Those had to be eliminated, but given the distances involved David and the special Teams were going to be hunting down Word fragments for several years to come, but most of their activities were right here on Earth, which took priority for Green Team. Only Antarctica and a few tiny territories across Earth were under Star Force control, the rest of the planet was a conglomeration of nations, and even those allied with Star Force, such as Brazil, were not immune to Word infiltration. In that way Earth had been a weak spot as far as Star Force’s intelligence division was concerned, and The Word had done well to exploit that advantage, leaving a lot of cleanup to do on the planet.

Already they’d hit 118 Word facilities, with another 52 on the to-do list, with more being added by the day as they discovered their locations through the interrogation of the Masters and Primarch, along with the tech work being done at captured facilities, giving them electronic trails to follow to even more hideouts.

The size of The Word was far larger than David had expected, and he could imagine what they’d been up to their first 100 or so years. They’d needed to establish their own infrastructure, off the grid, in order to keep Star Force from using the economy to locate them. Doing so must have been a long and tedious task, and David found it surprising they could have been so patient. Usually philosophical zealots needed to be seen and heard, but The Word had been a ghost for such a long time David wondered what else they might have been up to, and had only begun to interrogate the Primarch concerning such things.

He had discovered that anti-Star Force wasn’t their driving mandate, for they sought control and/or influence over all factions, and with their primary focus being here on Earth they had a lot of dealings with the local governments as they pried here and there. It was always clandestine, up until Davis had outed their existence, with the public swell of support being a new factor the Primarch had to work his way through.

This one, like his predecessor, had kept The Word independent from the social movement that bore its name and manipulated it as they did other threads within Human society to get the outcomes they desired. That way, nothing could be backtracked to expose the organization, though the Primarch was still wondering if it somehow had, for neither David nor anyone else had informed the prisoner how exactly he’d been exposed.

Which worked well as an interrogation technique, for the man kept running possible scenarios through his head, effectively giving David a rundown of Word facilities and operations where the breach in security might have occurred. As far as he knew, for he wasn’t monitoring the man constantly, the Primarch had never considered the possibility that an Agent might turn.

He’d considered the possibility of other personnel being captured and interrogated, but they knew so little that there wasn’t anything they had access to that could have led Star Force to the Masters or Olympus, so every time David questioned him in a way that brushed upon a new idea, the Primarch would unwittingly run it through his mind for the Archon to see, showing more memory threads for David to backtrack then or later.

All in all, it was tedious work, but it had to be done and there was no one more equipped for it than him, which was why he didn’t shirk the task. Even though he didn’t have complete control over the various operations within The Word, the Primarch did have a wealth of knowledge that no Master did, for he saw the organization as a whole while they saw merely their own slice of the big corrupt cake.

But what he didn’t know was the identity and location of all their operatives. He knew the Agents and their assignments, but who they recruited for their assignments wasn’t always known, even to their Masters, meaning there was a lot of leg work being done at the raid sites, grabbing up as many personnel as they could, bringing them back to Atlantis for the big interrogation party, and identifying who was where and doing what, though so far only a handful of Agents had been taken captive. Most of them had enough of a heads up during the assaults to get to their kill pills first.

Those cells were being rolled over by the Teams, for each Agent knew every aspect of their operation, making them the most valuable captures in finding all the rats, but in the case of those who had died it meant that those cells effectively died with them, for they could no longer function. David assumed some of the operatives would continue to carry out their orders, and perhaps even try to set up their own organizations when it became clear that their superiors had disappeared, but they wouldn’t be the threat that The Word was, given their lack of leadership, training, and resources.

That didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous and didn’t have some nasty toys in their possession, but their long-term sustainability was now gone, making this less of a clandestine war and more of a cleanup operation. The biggest threat they now faced was in missing cells and leaving an Agent in play, creating an opportunity for a new criminal organization to spawn if the Agent was so inclined to do so, making it important that David and the others find all the Agents, or at least identify them, so they could make a clean sweep of The Word leadership and eliminate their knowledge from the equation.

One thing David had been able to get from the Primarch was the total number of Agents in play, which was an astounding 2493. Each Master recruited and trained their own Agents, and as such they had varying numbers of them, with each report filed by them being filtered up to Olympus for the Primarch and his staff to keep track of.

And his staff didn’t do the lion’s share of the work, for the Primarch really did lead the Word. He was a statistician that recruited his staff from Word members in order to assist him with an insane amount of data analysis, most of which wasn’t even Word related. He had some basic security staff to safeguard Olympus, but most of the people they’d captured along with him were the data hounds that gave The Word such impressive intelligence capabilities.

That brain trust was being interrogated simultaneously, though David wasn’t directly involved, but he was seeing the reports coming out from them and used that data as interrogation points for the Primarch, spurring specific memory threads that he could then follow to new and often obscure facts that hadn’t passed through the man’s conscious mind in months, if not years.

The entire interrogation party was a team psionic effort, and David was a bit freaked out to think how hard and damn near impossible it would have been to root out The Word without psionics, now that he could see how big and professional the organization was. Star Force was a monster organization, and as such it cast a huge shadow that many could hide within, and The Word had been doing just that with extreme efficiency.

Still, if Sander Rennold hadn’t happened The Word would still be active and operating despite the Archon’s psionic interrogation techniques, underscoring not only how skilled their opponent was, but the limits that Star Force had. The larger their population grew the easier it was for individuals to hide…so long as they had proper ID. Learn where the security cameras were and weren’t, and you could hide conversations off the grid, arrange clandestine meetings and other activities, all of which there was no way Star Force security could track…not because of a inadequacy on their part, but due to the simple fact that the bigger you got the harder it was to keep track of it all.

But therein lie the disadvantage as well, for as soon as The Word or anyone else took any action of note they’d be on the grid and invite scrutiny. The Word had done well to stay off the grid, but aside from some sabotage, kidnappings, and other ‘small’ activities they’d kept quiet. Tyr was an example of a larger operation, but it was part, not of a Star Force colony, but another nation where security wasn’t so robust.

From everything David had learned from the Primarch and other prisoners, he had not seen a way for them to hobble or even slow down the mega corporation, meaning either there was some grandiose plan that he hadn’t gotten to yet within the Primarch’s mind or The Word simply didn’t have one. They survived because they hid well, but in order to take Star Force down they had to stop hiding…at which point they were doomed. All they could do was preserve the status quo and try to make tiny alterations, which Star Force had shown an almost impervious resistance to.

Even if The Word took full control over every independent nation and colony they still wouldn’t have the power to take on Star Force, militarily, economically, or even in manpower, for the majority of Humans lived in Star Force territory. Only Earth was the opposite, which was why The Word had been focusing so much effort here, David had learned.

So in the end, David acknowledged, the confrontation between Star Force and The Word had been a draw, ended by the actions of an Agent who’d essentially turned to the lightside because he had seen through The Word philosophy and recognized it for the lie that it was. So philosophically Star Force had won the war, but it still bothered David that they hadn’t been able to get at The Word’s hierarchy without help. Maybe they would have eventually, if The Word had slipped up, but given the dynamics of how the organization operated, he really didn’t see how they would have gotten to the Masters and Primarch, short of stumbling across Olympus during some Arctic construction.

Call it ‘professional dissatisfaction’ on his part, but he was certainly happy that they made good on the opportunity Sander had given them. Luck was certainly a part of the game, and while he didn’t want to make the mistake of depending on it, using it when it came your way was something he’d learned all the way back in basic training when going up against an annoying challenge that he just couldn’t seem to beat. When it finally did happen, often unexpectedly, you took it and ran on to the next roadblock in your way.

And this roadblock had been long in overcoming. He and Green Team had been assigned to The Word mission for the past 45 years, making it by far their longest assignment, one which he expected to be wrapped up on Earth within the next couple months, as far as the Archons were concerned. Once the heavy psionic lifting and base raiding was done, rounding up the rogue operatives would become a security division mission while Green Team would split up and head out to other star systems hunting the remains of The Word while Red and Blue Teams got back to their normal assorted workload for Davis.

David was looking forward to getting back out in the field, for he’d had far too much Professor Xavier work in recent days to suit him. His workouts were all that were keeping him from going stir crazy, and he was glad this current report was coming to an end so he could head off for some real work.

David, you busy?

The ranger kept typing as he answered the telepathic question coming from a few levels above his quarters.

Just finishing up a report. What’s up? he asked Rikku.

With so many of us in the city, Vermaire requested a challenge. I’m rounding up as many high levels guys as I can for a ‘king of the hill.’

How many is he giving us?

Nine.

Nine? He’s getting rather bold.

Which is why I want to stick it to him if we can. We’re set to go at it in 34 minutes.

David checked his watch, then quickly typed in a short list of topics for him to finish later.

On my way.

Good, Rikku said, sending him the telepathic equivalent of a smiley face.

David hit the save button and flicked off his computer, heading for the door. He ran out into the hallway and all the way to the nearest elevator, crossing Atlantis over to where the non-trainee challenge chambers were. He ducked into the nearest equipment room and quickly got dressed, all the while having flashbacks of going up against the Black Knight as a trainee all those years ago.

Time for a little payback.

8

David dug his knee into the padded, angled wall and dragged his falling body to a stop midway down the side of the artificial hill he’d just been tossed off of. Aeryn was below him, all the way down on the flat that surrounded the four-sided, flat-topped pyramid, and as David clawed his way back into some upward momentum Peg came flying off the top and falling towards him.

He ducked down flat, with her body missing his by inches, and there was little doubt in his mind that her trajectory hadn’t been coincidental. Vermaire had thrown her at him, hoping to knock him back down before he could get to the top again…but no such luck this time.

David got his legs back underneath himself and rushed up the 45 degree incline until his head cleared the top edge and he could see what was happening in the center of the large scoring square. The Black Knight, dressed in the same gray/tan light armor that they all were wearing to reduce the blows and allow them to fight more freely, stood a head taller than the Archons ringing him and outmassed David by a factor of 2.

A quick punch to Sev’s chest knocked him back, then Kivy dove at the Knight’s legs, trying to latch on but he wasn’t quick enough about it and missed one of them…which Vermaire then used to kick him away just as David was coming up to him. A telepathic prodding by Niles told him to jump high, which David made good on by launching himself and his flexible armor up into a jump-kick aimed at Vermaire’s chest.

The larger man dodged it easily, grabbing David by the ankle and twirling him around like a bat to smash into Aeryn who was just now coming back up the hillside. Both Archons tumbled back down and out of sight, but David’s diversion had allowed Rikku to slide in underneath the Black Knight and latch onto his legs.

David didn’t see what happened next as he and Aeryn tumbled down the side all the way to the bottom before they got themselves pried free of one another. There were nine Archons in play on the hill versus the Black Knight, who looked odd not dressed in his typical intimidating Knight armor. The light armor had been at his request, knowing that if they went at it in just their training garb he was going to have to hold back to keep from injuring them, and vice versa, and that wasn’t good for anyone when playing ‘king of the hill.’ Vermaire wanted a challenge, to be pressed, and he couldn’t do that if he was holding back.

The entire suit of armor was made of flexible pads, save for the clear faceplate that was hard and kept noses and eyes from getting busted up. The light armor was used for a variety of combat missions, usually not by Archons, but it made for an excellent training tool for when one wanted to get some rough sparring in, and the way the Black Knight went about things any challenge against him ended up that way.

He’d allowed them nine Archons, with Rikku having assembled the highest ranking group she could out of those in the city helping with the psionic interrogations,  meaning high level acolytes and rangers. In order of class they were Riona-111, Kivy-188, Aeryn-412, David-441, Rikku-452, Sarah-800, Niles-803, Peg-1367, and Sev-1522, with Riona, David, Rikku, Niles, and Sev being the 5 rangers in the group and the other four being the highest ranking acolytes available, with the balance of those invited watching from the sidelines.

Rikku had assembled an all-star team, but like always the Black Knight was proving to be better than them. They’d been at this for the past 40 minutes, with the scoreboard reading 2:31 on his side and a big fat 00:00 for the Archons, meaning they hadn’t been able to remove him from the top at all, while he’d been able to keep the top square clear of them for a total of 2 minutes and 31 seconds, though he’d only managed to do that by adding up a lot of brief periods of 2 or 3 seconds each when all nine Archons had been knocked off the top.

But hell, this was fun, and there was no way any of them were going to back down, especially since they’d come close to deposing him three times over the past 10 minutes. David didn’t think his strength was wearing down, but rather the Archons were getting better acclimated to his combat skills…which were far superior to theirs.

Like all Knights, Vermaire trained exclusively for the hand to hand subdivision of commando, and with the man being older than all of the Archons he’d had centuries to focus on improving that select skillset. Nowadays he didn’t even split his time helping to train, or more accurately terrorize, the Archon trainees, for even with the stun-neutralizing component of his armor removed he was still too strong and fast for them.

Another Knight had taken his place, leaving Vermaire even more training time in the day to hone his beastly skills. He was far more than a match for any Archon, discounting psionics, trailblazers included, but against 9 of them he should have been at a disadvantage, which is why he figured the Black Knight had chosen that number of opponents.

David gently kicked Aeryn off his leg and both of the Archons jumped to their feet and climbed back up the hill just in time to see Vermaire send Rikku over the edge on the far side, with only three other Archons currently up top. Kivy had hold of the giant’s left arm and was latched onto it like a dead weight while Sev came in and tried to tackle the man across the abdomen.

It didn’t work well, but it knocked the Black Knight back a step as he knocked Sev up into the air with a raised knee…which Riona then slid under, coming up from behind him, and snaked her arms and legs through his, trying to topple him.

David and Aeryn both saw the opportunity and sprinted across the top of the hill and jumped at Vermaire as he punched Kivy away and dropped to a knee on top of Riona, smashing her into an impromptu submission hold as he grabbed Sev by the shoulders and chucked him over the side like a rag doll. David and Aeryn came flying through the air, Aeryn a step ahead, and rammed into his torso, with her snaking an arm around his neck and pivoting her body around behind his massive bulk as David torpedoed his chest with another jump-kick.

A jump-kick that came to a sudden, firm halt. Using Riona as a brace, the Black Knight had set himself against the ranger’s incoming momentum, stopping him flat and dropping him to the ground where he spun around like a cat, all the while Vermaire grabbed Aeryn’s arms as he stood up, stepped to the side away from Riona, and spun the Archon around twice before tossing her well up into the air where she fell down over the hill and out of sight.

David was back on his feet and punching at the man’s gut as he released Aeryn, getting in a quick, unanswered blow before the large arms came back down and David began backpedaling as they sparred lightning fast. He knew he had to give ground or get overwhelmed by the man’s strength, but what galled him the most was that, despite his bulk, he was just as fast as the Archons were. David suspected Riona might be a hair faster, but one on one it was no contest, meaning that he had to block and parry the heavy blows long enough for the others to get back up the hill and link up to do some kind of damage.

One of his punches resulted in Vermaire latching onto his wrist and holding him motionless for a split second, which was all he needed to kick into David’s chest and send him flying backwards across the square. The Archon dropped to the slightly padded top a meter shy of the edge, immediately regaining his footing and turning around just in time to see Riona slide back underneath the giant’s feet and wrap up his legs again…this time crumpling one of his knees enough that he lost his footing and began to fall forward just as Kivy and Peg came flying in and grabbed each of his arms.

Like a tractor pull, they dragged his torso the opposite direction, flipping him over onto his back as Niles and Sarah came in and grabbed his legs which Riona suddenly let go of. Together, the four Archons lifted the Black Knight up off the ground and walked him towards the edge, intending to chuck him off the side.

But they knew he wouldn’t go quietly, and before they got to the edge he pulled Peg in too close to his torso and head butted her in the chest just enough to off balance the acolyte and allow that arm of his to sag to the ground. The Black Knight used the dip to convulse the others out of position, then he began to kick his way free as they unwittingly dropped him to the ground two meters shy of the edge.

Once down his bulk regained its dominance and he quickly pitched Kivy over the edge with an elegant frontside scorpion kick in which he crunched up his abdomen as if he were doing a sit-up, except that his back laid flat on the ground and it was his lower body that moved upwards whereupon he extended his right leg and sent the Archon flying backwards over the edge.

Vermaire snapped his legs back down, kicking Sev as he jumped into the mix and giving himself a tiny bit of clear space on top to maneuver in as he spun around on the ground in a roundhouse kick, knocking down Aeryn as she came back up and into the fight. Then suddenly he was back on his feet taking a step in towards the middle and away from the edge the Archons had got him dangerously close to.

But that was when Riona got back under his legs again, and with Rikku’s help this time the pair was able to dump him to the ground and hold tight while he tried to kick his way free. David ran up and grabbed the man’s left wrist and pulled as hard as he could, with three of the others jumping in and grabbing what leverage points they could and yanking desperately to move both Vermaire and Riona and Rikku over the edge.

When David got his foot across and onto the angled slope he pitched himself over, trying to let gravity assist him, but the Black Knight yanked him back up with an insanely strong arm curl and threw him across Riona’s chest, tripping David up and knocking him down at the Black Knight’s feet.

The next thing he knew he saw Sarah flying by and jumping into the mess of arms and legs, then suddenly it all pitched over the side and disappeared from view.

David glanced up at the scoreboard, seeing their clock tick up a second, then two as the Archons now had control of the top now that Vermaire was off it and at least one of them stayed up top to hold it.

As he got to his feet he saw Aeryn and Niles with him, all of whom ran over to the edge and looked down the hill where they saw the Black Knight knocking his way free of the Archons and start to run back up the side…only to have Riona come at him from the left flank and dive after one of his legs, which she somehow managed to latch onto.

David didn’t hesitate when he saw the opportunity and abandoned the top, leaving the other two Archons to hold it as he charged down the hillside and jumped head first at Vermaire as he punched Riona into submission and kicked her aside. David’s momentum hit the man in the shoulder as he tried to dodge, partially succeeding, but the Archon had been moving so fast it sent him staggering back enough that he had to drop to a knee to keep from pitching over as David flew about wildly down to the bottom, accidentally knocking Rikku and Sev down like bowling pins.

But what he couldn’t see was that while the Black Knight was off balance, Aeryn was coming down the hillside behind David and she finished what he’d began, plowing into the giant and knocking him off his feet where he slid back down the hill, tossing the arrogant Archon off him and digging his knee into the padding to slow his descent. He reset himself and raced back up towards the top, fighting off two more Archon delaying attacks on the way.

When David stopped tumbling at the bottom of the hill he banged his head on the flat, stunning himself for a moment. When he shook his head clear he wobbly got back to his feet and looked up, seeing Kivy and Aeryn flying off the top, quickly followed by Riona, and David knew that the Black Knight was pissed and he was trying to quickly clear off the top to add a few more seconds to his tally.

David wasn’t going to let that happen, so even though his head hadn’t fully stopped spinning he ran up the angled padding towards one of the corners and stepped up on top, holding position rather than jumping into the fight, and laying claim to a piece of the square while the others were scrambling to get back up in time, for Vermaire was chucking them off one by one too fast for them to coordinate with each other.

Sev came up alongside David and likewise held position, then suddenly it was the two of them and Vermaire as Peg got kicked off. David and Sev split up, each heading towards opposite corners and forcing the Black Knight to chase after one of them…and he chose Sev.

The ranger ducked and dodged for several seconds, but Vermaire eventually got to him and with three quick punches distracted, disabled, and removing him from the top, then the eldest of the Knights turned around and headed for David, intent on grabbing another second for the scoreboard that now read 2:31/0:29.

Knowing that sitting on the edge was stupid, David ran forward and met him in the middle, sliding down underneath him and turtling up, not trying to fight the giant but rather trying to buy time for the others to get back up to the top. He rolled to his right, jabbing his knee into the Black Knight’s shin, moving it back an inch, then he felt a hand underneath his shoulder and suddenly he was being picked up off the floor.

David reacted quickly, twisting around and getting his own grip on one of Vermaire’s arms, not allowing him to throw the Archon so easily. Then, oddly, Vermaire dropped him and took a step back, kicking into Riona’s faceplate as she tried to dart underneath his legs and tie him up again. His kick stopped her cold, then he spun around and did the same thing to Rikku who was coming in on the opposite side, having anticipated their attacks.

What it also did was start getting the Archons reassembled on top, now with 4 of them up and another nearing the edge. Seeing this Vermaire plowed through David, knocking him aside but not off, and reset himself at hilltop center while the Archons moved around him in a circle, looking for an opening.

The Black Knight stood up to his full height and reached a hand forward, motioning them to come on with a couple of fingers, then David got a telepathic strategy from Sev, with him sending a confirmation ping back.

Rikku took off first, running three steps straight towards him, then diverting into a shallow ‘orbit’ that twisted her around to the far side. With his back turned, Peg came in as well, dropping into the circular motion and waiting for the Black Knight to strike either her or Rikku, but he didn’t. He let them move about him at a range of two meters, not taking the bait.

Then suddenly both Archons appeared to trip over their own feet and fall to the ground, with Vermaire taking both hands, balling them into fists, and beating them against his chest once as he pushed his own Fornax field out to its limits, teasing with the rest of the Archons’ balance, but they were too far away and his energy field to weak at that range to do little more than get their attention.

That does it, Riona said telepathically to the group. He’s getting it now.

David knew what she meant and smiled, lining up the Black Knight’s mind in his mental targets and preparing to send a Fornax blast back his way. Most sparring drills and challenges had a ban on psionics, aside from telepathic coordination, because they got in the way of the skills you were trying to hone. Because of that, the Black Knight’s strengths were kept intact while the Archons’ most potent weapons were deemed off limits for this king of the hill challenge.

But what Vermaire had just done by using his own, very limited psionics upgrade that the trailblazers and Davis had afforded him a number of years ago, was to disregard the ban entirely, opening up the Archons to fight at full psionic strength…and there was no way he was going to beat them at that.

A flurry of telepathic coordinating signals went out to the group from Riona, and David joined two others in throwing pinpoint Fornax blasts at the Black Knight, hobbling him to the point of shaky legs, but the big man didn’t go down…until the others combined their lachka and delivered a telekinetic punch to his chest simultaneously.

Except the ‘punch’ wasn’t a punch, but an invisible energy ball pushing the Black Knight down and across the top of the pyramid. Somehow he managed enough coordination to reach his arms and legs out and go spread eagle on the surface, making it more difficult for them to move him, but with a swift kick from Rikku to his shoulder blades the rest of them telekinetically shoved him off the top where he clung to the angled side like Garfield on a car window…until all nine of the Archons hit him with a combined Fornax blast and his nervous system was suddenly no longer under his control.

The Black Knight slid down all the way to the flat bottom as the seconds began to tick up on the scoring clock for the Archons.

David was smiling inside his clear faceplate, but then it faded as a sort of mental image of the Black Knight smiling was telepathically transmitted up to the group as the big man got to his feet and began walking up the hillside slowly. He shook for a step as one of the others hit him with a Fornax blast, but he didn’t go down, instead keeping to his steady, pounding steps as he leaned forward and crawled upwards with his hands for added balance.

Another coordination signal came from Riona and David responded with the others by hitting the Black Knight with nine simultaneous Fornax streams this time, with each of them keeping the flow of disruptive energy going. Their opponent collapsed to his elbows and knees, but somehow he managed to keep from falling over.

Then, inexplicably, his arm moved up two inches and set in place, followed by his opposite knee. Then his other arm…and other knee.

David’s gut clenched up as he continued to pour Fornax energy into the man, for somehow he was withstanding all nine of their psionic attacks and very slowly making his way up the hill.

“Son of a bitch,” Riona said out loud as she jumped over the edge and went down after him.

9

March 26, 2451

Solar System

Earth

Davis came into his office after his short morning workout and went through the priority updates his staff had laid out for him, eventually working his way down to the interrogation files that had come in over the past 24 hours. He skimmed them all, but took care to read David’s latest report from the Primarch concerning the origins of The Word.

According to the memories pulled from the man’s mind, The Word had began in the 2290s. That was far earlier than he’d guessed, meaning the criminal organization had been active on Earth for a century without him finding out…though ‘active’ was a bit of a misnomer. They had to have been keeping a low profile during all that time, but why?

As he read through the report he got a partial answer. The Word’s first priority was to establish an off the grid network so that Star Force couldn’t track them. That meant bases and resources that neither came from Star Force nor any other nation whose economy he could monitor. They wanted to build and produce everything they could in secret, and had spent many decades doing just that, supplemented by thefts to give them the material they needed.

But a century was a very long time, and he found it hard to imagine they could keep quiet for so long without at least attempting to do something of merit. Davis might have that kind of patience, but these people did not, nor did they have the longevity for it, meaning there must have been something else driving them. Something that David hadn’t gotten to yet.

As he read down through the report he came to the point where the creation of The Word was detailed, indicating that there had originally been 12 Masters and 1 Primarch from which the rest of The Word was created. That format had been derived from the Arthurian myths, with the Primarch taking the position of King Arthur and the Masters being his knights of the round table. Apparently the notes from previous Primarchs were preserved for each successor to study, allowing that single individual to maintain continuity over the years while the rest of the organization focused on present day tasks.

The concept and mandate for The Word had been set down at a clandestine summit meeting involving representatives from 6 nations. Shortly thereafter The Word had been created from volunteers that left public service in those nations, never to be seen again as they disappeared in a variety of accidents designed to get them legally dead and off the electronic grid.

The nations, by design, had no contact with The Word past that point, knowing that if even a shred of evidence was left behind Star Force would backtrack it to the source and come down hard on them. They’d concluded that being economically, militarily, and technologically outmatched, the only way they could challenge Star Force’s power was by doing so indirectly. Thus they created a criminal organization to do their dirty work for them, setting it on its path then washing their hands of it to give them deniability if it were ever exposed.

That said, they ‘allowed’ various items to be stolen from them on a regular basis, fueling The Word’s growth until it got to the point where it could steal on its own, having infiltrated operatives into various corporations and countries…including those that had founded it. As the founders in the 6 nations eventually died out, the secret of The Word died with them, erasing any last links between the two and leaving the criminal organization completely sovereign, off the grid, and in a position to do whatever it wanted.

But the Primarchs held to their mandate, which was more or less what their subordinates espoused. They were to counter the ‘degradation’ of society that Star Force was bringing with it and return Humanity to its true purpose, going back to the ‘old ways’ while embracing present day enhancements.

Davis could read between the lines, knowing that such philosophical ideology was merely a smokescreen to cover their real objective…which was to gain power. Star Force was in the way of that, and like a lot of people, they find courage and purpose in taking down whoever’s on top, without any plans for the afterward.

The Word was, admittedly, a bit more complex than that, for their philosophy was a tool they used to indoctrinate and recruit, thus it had to be more robust than a casual façade…but a façade it was, and it existed to legitimize bad behavior, something that Davis had all but eliminated from Earth over the past 500 years.

Oddly enough, Earth was the one planet that Star Force had little control of. Davis had given some moons and small planets away, such as Tyr to the Brazilians, but on Earth he had never had control, and aside from Antarctica and some small bits of land elsewhere, Earth’s landmasses were completely independent from Star Force’s oversight.

He had control of the ocean colonies and his spaceports in the various nations…which was a caveat that had allowed banned nations to reclaim their portals into space. The land that they were built on had to be ceded to Star Force, essentially creating small embassies where the local nation had no jurisdiction. As such, even China now had Star Force spaceports dotting its territories, despite the fact that the government couldn’t conduct business with the mega corporation due to its permanent ban.

Its citizens could, which was why it had ceded the small bits of territory to Star Force in exchange for the courtesy of closer placement, for the Chinese and other banned nations didn’t like having their citizenry transitioning through other countries and feeding their economies. Even though no government officials were allowed access to the spaceports, the area surrounding them boomed with ancillary economic activity, making it very profitable for the host nations to sport as many spaceports as they could coax Davis to put there.

And that wasn’t just true for the banned nations, but for all of them. While the Archons were out battling alien races militarily, Davis had been battling Human enemies back home economically and philosophically, and kicking just as much ass as they did. Using animal herds as a food supply was now gone from the planet, banned in every nation due to the fact that it was a stipulation from Star Force in order to conduct various levels of business with them.

Several nations had balked early on, but as the years passed and new generations rose up to replace those that died out the citizens in those nations gradually swayed to Star Force’s firm and steady code of conduct, aligning with it to gain their own economic advantages.

Star Force held to the sovereignty of the individual without exception, which had led to a holy political war against Islam, Christianity, and a host of other religions who placed females subservient to males. Likewise he went up against the evolutionists and ‘mother earth’ naturalistic fanatics who likewise put individuals as subservient to the planet or their species. Davis had been unbiased and relentless in his assertion that every individual, no matter who or what they were, was a sovereign entity that no one owned…and that stance hadn’t made him many friends at the outset.

But he had the leverage and the time, with society’s mood gradually changing. When a nation changed its laws to accommodate his demands they opened up new economic opportunities, with him essentially rewarding good behavior rather than punishing bad. He still held that the nations of Earth were independent from Star Force and treated them accordingly, working with them or against them, but always they were Earth, not Star Force. Star Force existed above and beyond it, an outside influence that by unspoken agreement had no territorial aspirations back home.

There was a short list of nations that were considered allies of Star Force, which Davis held to a higher code of conduct…a code that many of the others would not embrace. While they had, eventually, gotten rid of all of Davis’s ‘red flag’ practices, such as meat production, hunting, conscription, second phase abortions, forced pregnancies, forced abortions, death penalties, dismemberment penalties, circumcision of youth, gladiatorial contests, ‘lab rat’ experimentation on macroscopic races, organ transplants, ‘live’ animal food, living sacrifices, etc…they still clung to many yellow flag practices that kept them from being considered ‘allies.’

Such things like income taxes, censorship, and mandated activities were penalized by Star Force in less severe ways, but they didn’t trigger the revocation of licenses and removal of spaceports the way red flags did. By setting up code of conduct standards for the nations’ legal codes, Davis had gradually pulled the chaotic, brutal planet into a diluted version of civility…but it was still a far cry from the civilization that was present in all Star Force territories, whether they be owned colonies or free affiliates, with the result being a continual flow of people leaving Earth nations and seeking to establish homes somewhere within Star Force’s domain.

And that was the kicker of it all. The individuals in a nation had to have the option of leaving. If they didn’t that was also a red flag, because it meant a person could be trapped inside a culture and a set of rules not of their own choosing, which was, in essence, another form of slavery.

Star Force had rules, of course, but they were few and basic for the common citizenry. So long as you didn’t interfere with another individual you could pretty much live your life however you wanted, for better or for worse, and Star Force would leave you alone. That openness without acceptance, for Star Force didn’t coddle the stupid or delusional, merely letting them discover the error of their ways on their own time, was something that the nations of Earth, even Star Force’s allies, could never quite fully swallow.

They still, at their core, wanted some level of control over their citizenry, seeing them as property rather than sovereign individuals under their care. Without Star Force and Davis holding their bad behavior at bay, Earth would gradually devolve back into the mess it had been when he’d first created the space corporation.

Nowadays no one starved to death…at least if they could reach a Star Force facility of some kind, for Davis freely gave away basic foodstuffs. That in turn prompted the other nations to do the same, for economically speaking if you could get a product for free elsewhere you were quickly going to lose your customers. To assist them with the conversion, which still allowed for the sale of ‘luxury’ food items, Star Force provided the various nations with basic foodstuffs for distribution on the grounds that they remain free of charge and available to all.

That had virtually eliminated starvation from the planet, save for remote or lawless areas within the mega cities covering most of Earth’s landmasses. That was something Star Force couldn’t fix on its own, for they didn’t administer those areas, but they did keep an eye out for them and gently nudged the nation in question to fix the problem with the unnecessary threat of repercussions if they didn’t always hanging over their heads.

Still, the people suffering in those areas still had a chance if they could get themselves to a Star Force facility, whether it be a spaceport, recruitment center, food kiosk, etc. Likewise people could come to Star Force with medical problems and be aided without cost. Some nations, still greedy and unscrupulous, allowed Star Force small tracts of land to establish hospitals to service their populations in advanced medical cases, which Davis readily agreed to. While it was extremely unusual for a regenerator to have to be used, for they were still a closely guarded secret, as were all things pyramid-based, Star Force had reverse engineered enough medical tech that they could now regrow lost limbs and organs with the aid of other devices of their own manufacture.

Star Force didn’t sell those devices, but they used them to treat people that couldn’t be treated elsewhere, and given that those sorts of cases were very expensive in the local healthcare markets, the nations were more than pleased to have Star Force come in and foot the bill for them. They thought they were using Star Force, but in reality Davis was infiltrating their nations and uplifting their populations. Over time those people would come to forget the ‘old ways’ and grow used to some standards of living that would be difficult to reverse.

Money was no longer an issue for Davis, not that it had ever been important for him, but now that Star Force directly controlled 3/4ths of the Human population and his army of logistical personnel kept their supply levels optimal, currency was now no longer needed for sustenance, and had been reduced to a voluntary means of acquiring luxuries or raising your personal ownership and influence within society.

That was less true in the nations on Earth, but monetary classes had virtually disappeared in Star Force colonies. Everyone knew the echelons in Star Force were based on merit, with those at the top having to work their asses off for centuries to get there. Politicians were a joke, for the idea of choosing one’s leaders by a popularity contest simply didn’t exist within Star Force’s overly efficient empire. Some of the nations had followed their example, hybridizing their governmental structures into republics rather than democracies, but there were still some that operated off of ‘the will of the masses,’ but behind closed doors they knew that Star Force and Davis were subsidizing their foolishness.

Most nations no longer fielded militaries, for they knew Star Force would protect them if they were in the right. The ones who weren’t blacklisted used Star Force’s transportation network and resource markets to sustain their populations, without which their lack of self-sufficiency would be their undoing. Little by little over the decades since its inception, Davis had been changing Earth without conquering it, which would have been a much faster resolution to its problems.

And that had long bothered him. Should he have taken action sooner to save people he knew were suffering by taking out the governments that were allowing the suffering? He hadn’t, rather undercutting the problem by getting to some of the individuals and supplying them with what they needed or evacuating them to Star Force territory, but there had always been others he couldn’t get to unless he went in and overthrew the bad nations that were allowing and/or encouraging the suffering in the name of sovereignty…something that Davis had reinforced often.

Nowadays it was a moot point, for the most part. Many nations still sucked, but the level of depravity was nowhere what it once was, and so long as the people maintained the option of leaving and going someplace better, those that chose to stay where they were had a choice, which was enough to satisfy the sovereignty of the individual.

But Davis knew that a legal code and reality on the ground were often two separate things, so even with the wholesale improvements he’d leveraged on Earth he knew there were still people out there who were getting screwed in some way, often unseen by the media and his own intelligence division.

It was that underlying problem which had always left his dealings with the nations of Earth a bit strained. Colonies off Earth were another story, for they were all in artificial structures that demanded a different way of living, but Earth was open air and the origination point of this Human exodus out to the stars…meaning the old was still buried there, whereas a colony on Mars had to have everything built brand new.

And those nations that Davis didn’t deem worthy didn’t have colonies off Earth anymore, for his pull in the Solar System was far greater than it was on Earth, and those that had done a bad job of managing their colonies had seen those colonies confiscated, either through secession or being taken over directly by Star Force…leaving only the nations on Earth as the lingering taint on Humanity’s growing empire.

Davis had been tolerant of them, though they would have vehemently attested to the contrary, choosing to work with or through them to achieve his goals and helping those in need, whereas the Archon approach was simply to go in and take out the bad guys directly. A part of Davis had always been tempted to do that…no, not tempted. That was the wrong word. His logic had been leaning him in that direction while his past assertions had been holding him back.

He’d made promises and assurances to the nations, stating what was and was not acceptable behavior, so how could he go back on his word and seize nations that had gotten rid of all their red flags? His own logic said because people were still suffering in one form or another and Star Force could eliminate it.

Those two differing points had been bouncing around in the back of his head, lightly, for many years as he helped the nations past their own stupidity, teaching them how to do things differently and having many grow because of it…though in truth those non-allies, and even some of his allies, only did it to ingratiate themselves with Star Force rather than out of an understanding of what he was teaching/coercing them to do.

And now there was this. As he read through David’s report the names of the six nations burned into his eyes and the centuries of patience he’d been granting them, coupled with this blatant ingratitude, fueled an anger in him that he had not felt since World War III.

Before he finished reading the report he mentally set it aside and stood up, beginning to pace the circumference of his 360 degree window as he thought. Part of him was kicking himself for not doing something sooner, and he came to the realization that he had partially created his own problem.

Conditions had been so bad on Earth in the beginning that even a partial improvement seemed to be a huge accomplishment…but now, looking back on those days, he knew he hadn’t done enough. He’d been hesitant to take on the nations of Earth because of a misplaced idea of sovereignty that he had created in order to get Star Force established.

He had created the idea that Earth operated on different rules than space, that it was somehow immune to responsibility. Yes, the combatants in WWIII had lost their colonies, but they hadn’t lost their territory on Earth. At the time Davis didn’t have the resources to fight a war on Earth, at least not a clean war, and take out the bad guys directly…Archon style, he reminded himself…so he punished them instead, and used that punishment as a tool to gain traction and influence with the others. That had, in turn, allowed him to begin some of the planet-changing trends that had worked so effectively.

He hadn’t made the wrong decision back then, but it was a decision that had negative consequences that he was only now fully seeing. He had been starving corruption to death rather than killing it quickly, because killing it quickly hadn’t been an option back then in Star Force’s infancy. Now though, was an entirely different matter, and had been for years.

By the fourth lap around his office everything had become crystal clear. He’d become so focused on working the problem that he hadn’t bothered to take a step back, clear his mind, and look at the playing field. His face was down in the dirt, fighting the battles that needed to be fought…and because of that he hadn’t even noticed the game change.

That was his mistake, and he was mentally kicking himself for the duration of the fifth lap, at the end of which he sat down and opened a personnel map that detailed the location of every single person in Star Force’s employ, in this case the Archons. He refined the map down to the 100 trailblazers, seeing that none of them were in Sol at present. He zoomed out to the nearest star systems, seeing that there were a handful nearby that could be recalled within weeks rather than months.

He went through the current mission assignments, trying to pick the one that he would inconvenience the least, eventually settling on Kent-076.

He typed out a brief recall order and set it off through the network, which would quickly get it transmitted through their interstellar relays out to the adjacent Dasher System…faster than a courier ship, anyway. The signal would still take days to reach the target, but that was considerably faster than the weeks it used to take him to get messages out to his people.

With nothing else to do on the matter, Davis went back to reading David’s report. When he finished it he set the interrogation information aside and moved on to a list of 183 medium priority items he had flagged on his current docket, with his staff adding things to it throughout the day.

10

April 17, 2451

Solar System

Earth

“What’s up?” Kent asked calmly as he leapt up the circular staircase and walked into Davis’s office.

Davis smiled. “I get to see you guys so rarely nowadays. What level are you up to now?”

“Ranger 82,” the trailblazer said as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

“Have you chosen a name for the next tier yet?”

“We’re batting around a few ideas, but last I heard Morgan was still 6 levels away, so we’ve still got some time to decide.”

“It’s not like you guys to have trouble naming things.”

Kent smirked. “No, we’ve just got too many good ideas and haven’t been able to nail them down yet.”

“Any new projects you guys are working on that I need to know about?”

Kent shrugged. “We’ve always got ideas kicking around.”

“Well, I’ve got one that I need your help with,” Davis said, abandoning his desk and standing up so he could look directly out the section of window behind his desk.

“Something big, I take it,” Kent said with a slight frown as he likewise stood and walked up beside Davis with both men staring out at the Atlantis cityscape as the sun was almost directly overhead, leaving no shadows to speak of.

“We’ve captured The Word leadership, which I assume you heard.”

“Yes.”

“We’ve learned from the Primarch how the organization began. Six nations created it in order to strike at us, then severed all ties to preserve deniability. I doubt the current governments even know their own history, but they’re going to pay the penalty regardless.”

“Which is?”

“They forfeit their sovereignty.”

Kent was silent for a moment. “What six?”

“France, China, the UK, Caribbean, Turkey, and the US.”

The trailblazer whistled.

Davis nodded. “Your thoughts?”

“Just them?”

The Director sighed. “Go ahead and say ‘I told you so.’”

“I don’t recall my ever saying anything.”

“No you didn’t. You let me handle Earth while you handled everything else, and you’ve done a better job of it.”

“We had a clean slate to work with,” Kent said, understanding that by ‘you’ he meant the trailblazers.

“Not on Kirit.”

“Earth owes you a big THANK YOU, not condemnation.”

“It’s not about them, it’s about what I could have done and failed to do.”

“Randy didn’t save everyone on Kirit,” Kent reminded him. “That really bothered him, and Tom especially. Eventually they realized they had to stop reworking past problems and focus on the current ones, but the idea that you didn’t save someone you could have isn’t something that should sit well with you.”

“Ignoring those that were lost feels like a betrayal.”

“Don’t ignore them. Keep the anger and a list, then when you come across a time traveling Delorean you can go back and save them.”

Davis kept his eyes on the cityscape, but a smirk curled up the right side of his face.

“Stop considering yourself to be responsible for the fate of others,” Kent advised. “Star Force is your family and your responsibility, and as such it has responsibilities to you. Others do not, and the blame for their fate isn’t on you at all. If you deny them responsibility for themselves, then they have no sovereignty. If they do, then they are responsible for themselves. Randy didn’t cause the Kiritas to have problems, he was the solution…and you have to make certain you don’t blur the two together.”

“But to stand by and watch while people suffer when you have the ability to stop it…”

“Tom said the same thing. He didn’t have enough foodstuffs to feed everyone, so he had to prioritize. If he reduced rations to some he could have saved others, but then how far should he have gone? He needed a section of the population healthy and working to increase their foodstuff production. There were people right in front of him who were starving to death that he could have shared his own foodstuffs with and didn’t. Why didn’t he?”

“He had to keep training.”

“Why?”

“That’s a dumb question, especially for an Archon.”

“Is training more important than someone’s life?”

“He shouldn’t have to suffer for someone else’s problems.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” Kent pointed out.

“My gut says both answers are wrong. You don’t ignore the person when you have the ability to save them, but at the same time you don’t compromise yourself.”

“So what do you do?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“They didn’t either for a long time, but eventually they figured it out.”

“Please share,” Davis prompted.

“They’re Archons. They’re going to help someone if they’re in need, period, so the question is a trick of fate that seems designed to try and get the Archon to choose to not be himself. Or as Paul would put it, choose to turn to the darkside.”

“That’s exactly what it feels like.”

“But like all trick questions, the solution lies in understanding the error in the way the question is stated. Randy and Tom felt responsible for the Kiritas, but they weren’t. So long as they weren’t causing the suffering, they could stand by and watch without interfering if they chose. They didn’t have to save anyone. Now, they couldn’t live with themselves if they stood by and did nothing when they had the power to do something, but everything they did from the point they got there was bonus points. They couldn’t go negative, because the lives of the Kiritas weren’t their responsibility.”

“I see the distinction, but it still doesn’t sit well.”

“No it doesn’t. Randy and Tom wouldn’t be satisfied unless they saved everyone, which was why they had to force themselves to keep their own rations separate from the Kiritas, else they would have scrimped and diminished themselves to save as many as they could, all the while kicking themselves for not saving more. It was driving them crazy, and after a while they just had to shut it out and focus on one piece of the problem. That wasn’t betraying the others, just acknowledging that they couldn’t help them…and if they couldn’t help them, there was no need for them to watch.”

“Turn a blind eye?”

“To the emotions that serve no purpose, yes. You will never tolerate suffering. It will always bother you if you’re a good person.”

“But I could have done something different. I wasn’t limited by supplies.”

“Such as?”

“Take over Earth.”

“Why didn’t we?”

Davis sighed. “Because I outlined a basic code of conduct for the nations that was far better than their previous behavior, but not good enough. And now that they’re in compliance with my own demands, how do I justify punishing them for that compliance?”

“Do you expect a rookie to do the work of a veteran?”

“No.”

“At some point the rookie becomes the veteran. When do the expectations change?”

Davis closed his eyes and leaned forward, banging his head against the clear window in a ‘doh’ moment.

“How do you guys get so smart?”

“We bounce ideas off each other, and there are 100 of us…but there’s only one of you.”

“Unfortunately,” Davis said, pulling his head away from the glass.

“What do you want me to do?” Kent asked, finally looking over at the slightly shorter, but equally trim man.

“The Word killed a lot of our people, and as such the nations that created it struck against us in a way they thought would insulate them from reprisal. They thought wrong. Take them out, annex their territories.”

“Surprise or forewarned?”

“How much trouble is forewarned going to be for you?”

“If you give me time to set things up beforehand, it won’t be a problem. If you need to berate them immediately I can still make it work.”

“Can you make it bloodless?”

“On our part, yes. But I can’t guarantee anything against their stupidity.”

“Their countries must suffer responsibility for their actions…not the present day individuals.”

“Clean capture is possible if handled carefully, but we won’t be in full control. Some idiot with a rocket launcher shooting at us could miss and hit civilians. That part we can never control.”

“Try to lock down as much stupidity like that as you can, but it’s our weaponsfire that I’m concerned about.”

“We won’t kill anyone that’s not shooting at us,” Kent promised.

“Can you capture the ones that are?”

“To a point, yes.”

“This has to be completely clean.”

“Then a direct assault isn’t the solution.”

“I sense a suggestion forming,” Davis noted sarcastically.

“‘Take them out’ can mean a lot of things. Define it more specifically.”

“Take possession of their countries.”

“To do that we have to acquire and hold select infrastructure, not battle their military. While that will happen if they choose to resist, if we can get to ground first and secure targets, it’ll be them attacking us, not the other way around.”

“Better, but that’s not a full solution if we’re having to shoot them down.”

“We won’t have to,” Kent said with a smirk.

“Explain to the kindergartener please.”

“We can take their personnel down with stingers easy enough, it’s their aircraft that are the problem. We disable them and they crash. But if we deploy shield generators and ward off their attacks long enough they’ll run out of ordinance and fuel. If we quietly take out their refueling capabilities we can neutralize them without having to destroy them.”

Davis smiled broadly. “That’s why I’m not an Archon. That never even occurred to me.”

“We’re both problem solvers. Your economic prowess surpasses ours.”

“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t count you guys out in any contest.”

“Wise.”

“Can you do this?”

“You mean without us becoming the bad guys? Yes, I can. But it will take a while to set up.”

“Tell me what you need.”

“I need a distraction…and an eyeball.”

Davis frowned, not sure what he was saying.

“Guess you haven’t seen that movie.”

“Apparently not. Which one?”

“The first Avengers.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Iron Man, Thor, Hulk, Captain America?”

“All in the same movie?”

“Yeah. Looks like you’ve got some homework to do.”

“Indeed,” Davis said, mentally adding the movie to his to-do list. The more Archon references he was aware of the better. “In the meantime, translation please?”

“None needed. It was a joke. I’ll have to assemble equipment and personnel to hit all sites simultaneously, even if we don’t end up handling it that way. That means a lot of recalls from outside Earth or using a handful of veterans along with a mass of rookies.”

“Can you get by with the personnel in this system?”

“More than enough, but getting them all here isn’t going to happen overnight, and I’m going to need target lists for each country, including up to date intelligence on their military units and locations.”

“A lot of prep work then?”

“When were you planning on letting them know?”

“The Word has been captured without public knowledge, so there’s no timetable to work off of. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“And what about the rest of the planet?”

“You had to pass a series of tests to become an Archon, and just about every other Star Force member has had to do the same. It’s time the nations of Earth had theirs.”

“And the independent colonies?”

“I’ll write up a protocol outlining the basic requirements of sovereignty that will apply to everyone. If a nation, colony, or faction doesn’t measure up they’ll forfeit back to Star Force. We’ll reorganize and fix the problem through some sort of arrangement or fully annex them. It’ll also provide a framework for splinter nations to gain legitimacy. You probably aren’t aware of the number of requests we get to recognize independence?”

“Not all of them, but I do know that a lot of loose colonies are out there.”

“We even get requests to declare a ship a sovereign nation. So many people are eager to create their own little empires without a clue to the responsibilities that entails. It’s time I laid it out for them.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

“I guess I have been piecemeal, but I’ve been making one very large mistake that you’ve just opened my eyes to. I’ve been respecting the original group of nations as peers without treating them as such. Not one of them would be doing what it needed to without Star Force leverage, which a true peer would. That means we have no peers, just children to babysit. Children that I’ve been giving adult privileges to. They’ve had more than enough time to learn and grow, so now we test them. Those that pass will gain a level of freedom equal to their skills, with total anonymity reserved only for peers.”

“So we are taking over the planet,” Kent said with a satisfied smile.

“They won’t like it. And I’m pretty sure our allies aren’t going to be too keen on it either, but give them a route to full anonymity and a few of them might chase it. As for everyone else, they’re going to rant and rave about me having too much power…”

“Tough,” Kent summed up pithily.

“It’s amazing how simplistic you guys make everything.”

“These governments and people you’re worrying about are all kids that we’re protecting from the lizards and all other manner of threats. They get no say until they show some skill.”

“Would you like to give the speech?”

“My speeches often involve physical stimuli, so talking into a camera is somewhat limiting my communications capability.”

Davis shook his head slowly. “I sooo miss having you guys around.”

“Nothing like planning a global takeover to get the band back together,” Kent quipped. “This will also diminish the likelihood that another Word will rise up, won’t it?”

“That thought crossed my mind about two minutes ago. Yes, it will. They won’t have any more political holes to hide in. Until a nation reaches full sovereignty, if that ever happens, Star Force security will have a presence in all territories. That won’t guarantee an end to covert criminal organizations, but it will make it a lot harder for them to hide in the shadows.”

“We got lucky, didn’t we?”

“Sander?”

Kent nodded.

“Yeah we did,” Davis admitted. “The Word gambled everything on maintaining the security of a handful of leaders. Had Sander not turned and given us a thread to follow, it would have been virtually impossible for us to find them short of their making a mistake. Now, their gamble has allowed us to sweep them up rather easily without making us work for it, but given their position they made a strategically effective choice. Someone else could do so again.”

“Most of their facilities were on Earth, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Make them play on our turf and security will own their asses.”

“It’s not quite that simple, but you’re mostly accurate.”

Kent crossed his arms over his chest as he watched a dropship landing on a pad nearby, but out of sight behind several lower buildings. “Face it…if I wanted to bypass security and create a covert organization under your nose I could do it. It’s just a matter of finding the cracks.”

“But?”

“But the size of the crack matters. Eliminate all the big ones and there won’t be room to build an organization large enough to do what The Word did. And security can handle the little ones…in most cases. And you’ve got Archon teams for the others. Uniting Humanity will come with the added benefit of making a lot of lingering problems go away.”

“While ticking off a lot of people in the short term.”

“Just outlive the protestors,” the 430 year old Archon said dismissively.

“A common solution we seem to employ.”

“That or a stinger.”

“We also seem to use a lot of those. Tell me, how long is it going to be until we can abandon the paint?”

“When the techs get a superior weapon built. Right now stingers are more reliable…and familiar.”

“Still a far cry from what the V’kit’no’sat have at their disposal.”

“We don’t know what they’ve got now,” the Archon pointed out.

“That’s an even cheerier thought.”

“If we’re going to die, they’re going to have to do the killing, because we’re not falling on our sword. Focus on cleaning house and increasing our strength, then we’ll see what the future brings.”

“We should have done this a long time ago.”

“We’ve been busy,” Kent reminded him, “but yeah, we should have.”

Both men stood watching the flight traffic coming and going from Atlantis for a few seconds, with Davis content that they were making the right decision.

“Don’t call me Palpatine,” he warned.

“Wasn’t even thinking about it, Loki.”

“Who?”

“Watch the movie,” Kent said with a lingering smirk.

Unification

1

February 21, 2452

Solar System

Earth

70 miles off the Virginia coast where the underwater Norfolk Canyon cut into the edge of the continental shelf that significantly shallowed the Atlantic Ocean prior to making landfall, a large bulge of water pushed up into the cold winter whitecaps, forming a small tsunami that would dissipate before reaching the coast. Underneath the quickly rising dome of water was a Star Force aquatics battleship transitioning into ‘airship’ mode and heading towards the Unites States on anti-grav, but it wasn’t alone, for alongside and behind it, coming up from the submerged canyon, 18 additional battleships took to the air, leaving the ocean beneath them a churning mess as they quickly disappeared from view.

Flying together like a pack of aerial whales the warships crossed the 180 mile stretch up to the American capitol coming under fire from squadrons of US F-834 fighter jets, but their missiles and plasma cannons couldn’t penetrate the battleships’ thick shields, nor could the anti-air turrets on the ground. The aquatics warships bullied their way through the defenses up to Washington DC, then spread out across the sky over the city, picking off automated defense batteries with their onboard plasma cannons as they one by one flew low over the small Tidal Basin that sat between the Potomac River and the White House.

There each battleship dropped large chunks of machinery into the shallow water before cycling off to form a slowly drifting formation in the sky over the panicking local population. When the last of the battleships deposited its cargo it held position, modulating its shields away from the underside hull and extending them down like a dome over top of the lake-like basin.

Once that protective energy barrier was in place, thin as it was, scores of personnel began dropping out of the hull and down into the water. The aquatics specialist Archons rode their wrist and ankle jets, spreading out to the perimeter of the Tidal Basin where they held position just under the water’s surface, waiting to act as a defensive line should any local troops come over ground and poke their way through or under the shield.

Behind them engineers came down and boarded the large chunks of equipment, some of which sprouted construction mechs than stepped down into the 3 meter deep water and began pulling the large pieces of equipment apart or repositioning them into the proper arrangement that the battleships more or less laid them out in. Using their large mechanical arms, the mechs put the giant ‘Lego’ pieces together over the next hour while the city streets quickly emptied, leaving the capitol more or less a ghost town.

No soldiers or police approached the Tidal Basin, for they were either bunkered up inside the city buildings or running away with the hordes of road vehicles packing the highways and the already scattered hovering vehicles that ignored traffic regulations and zipped off across the cityscape in whatever direction they thought would get them to safety.

The floating battleships ignored them, holding position while the one over the Tidal Basin hurried through the construction of a city-sized bubble shield generator. With a fixed geometry, unlike the battleships’ shields that could modulate their matrix and form multiple shapes as needed, the bubble shield was Star Force’s most robust and efficient shield. The amount of equipment needed to build a proper surface generator was massive, which created a problem for mobile units by limiting their size and strength.

By using a bubble shield they minimized the volume of equipment needed, but the tradeoff was they couldn’t get a surface seal, meaning the shield would cover the sky but not come down to touch the ground as the battleship’s shield currently was surrounding the Tidal Basin. It would be low enough to block aircraft from entering the dome, but not ground troops, meaning a land assault was still possible…but in this case it was actually preferred, making the bubble shield the perfect tool for a quick city grab.

When the generator was finally assembled beneath the low hovering battleship, it set up a hemispherical cap over the city, stretching out to a diameter of 12 miles and covering the US capitol building, the White House, the Pentagon, and many other key governmental buildings in the never ending cityscape that stretched hundreds of miles along the east coast. The edge of the shield dome hung in ghostly blue hue just over the building tops, visibly marking the barrier so no aerial traffic or high floating anti-grav vehicles would mistakenly ram it…as well as to symbolically mark Star Force’s new turf.

Once the primary shield was up the other 18 battleships settled down to the ground in various locations and began disgorging troops, Archons, Knights, and Regulars in large numbers, each with their own objectives and armed with a massive amount of stun weapons, for their objective was to capture the city, not to destroy it.

Amongst those troops were Senpan-142117, who had the honor of dropping down onto the White House roof along with a team of other adepts while a pair of Star Force combat mechs were set down on the south lawn, drawing most of the attention from the secret service and other limited defensive staff that were wisely staying inside the building, though a few did stupidly fire their sidearms at the mechs, with the tiny plasma spurts doing little more than scratching the paint on their armor.

The ineffectual attack did grab the attention of the madcat pilot, who twisted his mech around on its bird-like legs until its arms faced the windows where the fire was coming from, then it unleashed what looked like a shotgun blast of pink energy shards into the building, blanketing multiple windows in stun energy, some of which saturated the walls so much that it actually numbed the shoulder of a man leaning against one on the inside.

After that no more return fire came, and the madcat and thor set up in guard positions out front while Senpan’s team broke in at multiple points and began neutralizing all personnel they came across with green stinger paint splatters, most of which ended up on the unconscious personnel rather than the walls…though the same couldn’t be said of the secret service’s return fire that set pictures and other accoutrements hanging on the walls on fire.

Senpan had come in from the north side of the west wing, eventually making his way across the office spaces where the President’s staff did most of their daily work, finding only a few of them present and hiding while secret service and an assortment of other guards occupied most of the Archon’s time. Room by room he cleared the wing, ending up in the oval office that was likewise empty.

He walked around the curvy perimeter, checking all three exits/entrances before making his way out onto the porch and exiting through the southern greenhouse where he got jumped by three more guards. After stunning them into submission he tagged the west wing as ‘clear’ on his battlemap and retreated into the office area where he took up a roaming patrol in case personnel from other areas of the White House might migrate back in response to the other members of his team pushing through the rest of the building or in the unlikely case of a counter assault occurring, though with DC’s network of subterranean structures it was possible that there could be reinforcement coming from underground, bypassing the mechs outside.

To that end the adept kept on guard, roaming around the west wing and gradually policing the bodies, which eventually ended up in the Cabinet Room, while the other adepts on this small portion of the overall assault on the city cleared the main residence and east wing, including the subterranean bunker complex…but the President wasn’t among them, nor his family. Apparently they’d gotten out prior to the attack.

That wasn’t Senpan’s team’s concern though, for they didn’t need the politicians, just the real estate.

Back in Atlantis, Kent was overlooking a large holographic map of the United States in a much larger operations center than the White House sported. This one was the size of three basketball courts, with the centerpiece of it all being the main holoprojector, which currently showed an image of the continental states along with non-geographical cutouts for the remaining 5 states on the uncharacteristically flat image.

Kent had it displayed that way, rather than showing the curve of the Earth, because the board was monitoring the 23 incursion points, each of which had numerous objectives that he wanted to be able to be advised of at a glance.

A flashing icon over Washington DC indicated an update coming in, one of hundreds over the past few minutes, and Kent glanced down at the flat topped worktable he was standing at to see the ‘White House secured’ update, with that tiny piece of the city filling in with a blue highlight on a secondary map along with a scattering of others, but most targets had yet to be neutralized given the sheer size of the city and the limited number of personnel Kent had assigned to it.

Simultaneous ‘capture and hold’ assaults were taking place at New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston, Miami, Phoenix, San Diego, San Antonio, Jacksonville, Indianapolis, Columbus, Denver, Portland, Minneapolis, Atlanta, Sacramento, Las Vegas, Oklahoma City, Seattle, San Juan, Detroit, and Dallas as Star Force was choosing to hit the United States first out of the six countries that had been tabbed for annexation, hoping to convince the others to simply submit rather than face similar assaults.

Personally, Kent didn’t expect China to submit, but they were going to get a chance to think it through as they watched the US assaults, for Davis had chosen to keep the media outlets in the loop during this invasion, letting everyone across the Earth and Solar System monitor it live as the assaults went down.

They didn’t know it was coming, nor did anyone, for Kent had hidden his troops well, but the declaration of the forfeiture of sovereignty had been issued by Davis three days ago, with all six nations issuing adamant refusals…who were quickly backed by almost every other nation on the planet when the Director went on to explain the ‘verification testing’ that all countries would be subjected to in the coming years. Only four stood by Star Force in their silence, with the others banding together with such a unanimous decrial that many pundits were suggesting that Davis had finally gone too far and would have to submit to the will of the planet and back down from his demands.

Kent imagined they were having a moment of epiphany right about now as the news vids caught up with what was happening and fed images of the assaults on the American cities out to billions of people in the neighboring countries. Political opinion was useless against physical equipment, and as the American military began to respond to the invasion, it being the largest and most powerful of the now rebellious nations, most of whom had no military whatsoever, Kent was monitoring the deployment of their combat units away from their bases and towards the besieged cities.

All 23 sites now had their shield generators in place and operational, keeping the American air assets out of the equation. A few had launched light assaults against the shields, testing their strength, but they eventually abandoned the attacks given the calculated ordinance necessary to penetrate the energy barriers and the collateral damage they would do if they broke through and fell on the city below.

Now turtled up inside the shields, Kent’s assault forces were securing buildings and rounding up stunned personnel while allowing the fleeing citizenry out if they wished. They weren’t in a hurry, but were establishing a safe zone inside each city and expanding it out, street by street, intent on working their way out towards the shield barrier and making the captured cities theirs.

Or that’s what it appeared to be. With local media allowed to continue transmitting without being jammed or captured, the American military and the rest of the Solar System watched in detail as the efficient and overly armored Star Force troops made quick work of securing key installations and spreading out their containment zones. As they did that the Americans were organizing counterstrikes on a handful of cities, intent on walking their ground troops underneath the shield edge and engaging the invaders underneath their own protective dome.

Which is exactly what Kent wanted. His troops could handle the Americans with ease, and had been equipped with special weapons to handle the mechanized troops without killing them, and the same went for their vehicles while the shield would keep their aircraft out of the equation. For the coastal cities the American water navy was in a bad position, for Star Force owned the oceans and could take them out at any point they wanted.

They made the mistake of assaulting the shield dome over San Diego from the water, and succeeded in temporarily penetrating the energy barrier, dropping several shells onto their own people within the city before the ships sitting off shore suddenly saw a mass of mechanical tentacles popping up out of the water and wrapping around the American ships. The tentacles snapped off their weapon batteries, gouging out cuts and scrapes all over their armored hulls, then released them, disappearing back underwater and reappearing beneath other ships.

Some of the American ships had subsurface weapons, which the source of the tentacles had to disable, which resulted in hull punctures. Automated seals popped into place, keeping the ships afloat, but Rikku, who was overseeing the aquatics operations from the same command center that Kent was working out of, didn’t take the chance of one of them sinking and ordered the Kraken-class cruisers to remove them from the ‘bathtub’ altogether.

The mass of tentacles reappeared along the sides of those ships, with a few wrapping around the top as they took hold of them from below and lifted them up into the air via anti-grav, exposing the mechanical monsters lurking beneath the water.

The cruisers looked like sea creatures, each with six legs and two massive arms that ended in a bouquet of tentacles that were wrapping up the elongated American ships that were about a third smaller than the kraken. Both floated low over the waves, with the Star Force aquatics warship bringing the American ship to the shore and depositing it on the beach more or less upright as it landed in the water alongside. Gradually its tentacles withdrew, pushing here and there to position the ship correctly, then it walked back out into the Pacific and sunk beneath the waves as its twins deposited the other damaged American ships up and down the water’s edge.

Kent rather liked those visuals, which the news vids were blasting across their networks. They didn’t know Star Force possessed such ships, let alone could own the American navy in such an impertinent way, which made the irony of the attacks that much sweeter. All across the coverage that more and more people were becoming glued to were instances of Star Force coming in and taking what they wanted, seemingly unstoppable, but without them killing a single person and in many instances, such as the grounding of the water ships, deliberately preserving the life of those who were fighting them.

That point, Kent knew, was critical, for even before the nations could hope to spin the events to their favor the people were getting the raw footage and seeing the care Star Force was taking to secure their targets even as the American military deployed to counter them.

Which was where the next phase of the plan was taking place…this one off the news vids. As the American military bases sent out their counterattacking forces, Archon teams preplaced nearby were moving into position to quietly hit those bases and neutralize their refueling/rearming capability. Red and Blue teams were among more than 1300 high level Archons split up into small teams to conduct their sabotage that was scheduled to begin in a matter of hours.

Once they took out their targets, nipping at the bases rather than trying to capture them, the American troops already deployed in the field would have a time limit on their battle readiness, after which this invasion would essentially be over. Without the ability to refuel and rearm, the mechs and vehicles would run dry and grind to a halt, while their infantry would end up as target practice for Star Force’s own mechs and ground troops as they stunned them en mass.

Their aircraft would expend their fuel and land…only to find no operational refuelers, essentially grounding the craft without them taking any damage. The military would try to secure civilian supplies to compensate, but Kent had taken that into consideration and had tertiary teams already staking out those supply depots, ready to secure/disable them when the time came.

Until then his forces simply had to hide out underneath the bubble shields, taking their time securing their target cities and holding off the ground troops when they arrived, which Kent was confident they could do without problem. While Star Force’s military power was unquestioned by Earth, the planet hadn’t seen them in action for centuries. What happened out on the lizard front was ‘covered’ by the media in the form of basic reports Star Force sent them, meaning Earth had no idea how powerful the Archons and their troops really were, though they were getting an education at present.

As he watched, more tiny sectors in the cities flicked over to blue as the Americans clumsily assembled their troops and sent them their way from exterior military bases, with those bases inside the target cities having been hit a matter by saboteur squads moments before the main assaults began.

Those attacks had been the most tenuous, with Kent assigning his best troops to them, and to their credit they’d completed their missions without incident, keeping the aircraft on the ground and disabling many of their mechs and vehicles before they could take to the city streets.

Everything was going as planned, with what would end up being two weeks of attitude adjustment on the part of the Americans as Star Force demonstrated time and again how outmatched they were. Eventually it was the city mayors who began surrendering, followed by a handful of states while the President kept organizing the national government’s resistance to the Star Force invasion from a series of hidden locations around the country.

He soon became little more than a talking head as more and more cities surrendered, most of which hadn’t seen a single Archon within their borders, followed up by a handful of military units that hadn’t yet been captured/engaged. Over the following month a landslide of surrenders came forth as the previously unseen divisions within the country fragmented and the often rebellious Americans started making their own decisions once the President and Congress were seen to be out of the loop.

Both of those political entities didn’t submit, taking to hiding in various locations to keep the country alive even as Star Force brought in millions of personnel to take control over infrastructure and begin setting up the transitional government that would oversee the total deconstruction and transformation of the nation into a proper Star Force territory.

2

January 1, 2454

Solar System

Earth

Jessica Avril stepped out of the side exit of the Star Force mantis that had flown her out to Atlantis, walking down an extendable ramp until she hit the dry tarmac with her elevated heels clicking on the surface as she walked over to the security detachment waiting for her, but her eyes were drawn upward into the Atlantis sky where the rain was falling hard and slicking the top of the defense shield covering the city. The water ran down the dome as if it were glass, depositing off the sides into the turbulent ocean as the storm she’d just flown through raged on…yet here on the city’s surface the air was calm and dry, something she appreciated, not wanting to have to walk through the rain to get to the nearby terminal.

As her escorts took her indoors she wondered just how much power Star Force was wasting to keep the rain out, but she didn’t criticize the existence of the shields, whose presence made her feel as if she were standing on the safest place on Earth. Little did she know how wrong she was, for the safest locations lie in secret beneath the oceans, but as for surface cities she was correct, though she didn’t understand the full depth of defenses the Star Force capitol contained…nor did anyone else outside of Star Force.

Jessica wore a trim skirt and matching top, one of the uniform variants New Zealand governmental staff sported, but the heels were her own addition. They were illogical and detrimental to walking…but they were so attractive she couldn’t stand not to wear them, so she clicked her way inside the terminal and all the way across the magnificent city to her temporary quarters where she was given a few hours before she was due to appear for a ‘verification’ meeting on behalf of her home country.

Ever since the 6 nations that had formed the criminal organization known as The Word had been eliminated from the political map and annexed into Star Force territory with no identity or autonomy remaining, for which the Americans and Chinese fought them over, to no avail, the rest of the nations on Earth had undergone a severe amount of scrutiny. Star Force security had established a presence in each country to deal with the riots and other malcontents, though there had been none in New Zealand and a few other more enlightened nations, but the security presence had come to them as well.

Other logistical outposts were established where Star Force spaceports didn’t already exist, tying each nation to Star Force in a way that had once been unconscionable, but after seeing how easily Star Force took down the Americans most people took the cue to back down and submit, with the Chinese being the only government to actively rebel, but even knowing that Star Force would be coming for them didn’t stop the Archons from cutting up China into bits and pieces over the course of a year and a half, eventually squeezing the governmental sectors out of power as they took the rest of the massive country literally out from under its former rulers.

Oddly most of the Chinese people favored Star Force’s takeover, as did a majority of the Americans, but it had been made clear that their favorable opinion didn’t matter in the slightest to Director Davis, who seemed intent on claiming the entire planet for himself. Jessica knew there was more going on than that, for New Zealand had always had close ties to Star Force and in the past he’d respected their sovereignty…up until now. Star Force was positioning itself for a takeover of her homeland, but what she didn’t understand was why they were balking when it was clear they had enough military might to take whatever they wanted.

No, as much as people wanted to think this was some imperialistic takeover, Jessica and the New Zealand government knew that wasn’t the case. Star Force personnel had been analyzing every facet of their country, insisting it was for the purposes of the ‘verification’ that Davis had announced a few years back would be occurring for every nation on Earth, and those that didn’t measure up to the needs of their people would lose their sovereignty as the price for their failure. New Zealand wasn’t in danger of that, so Jessica and her country weren’t overly worried about the outcome of the verification, just curious as to where all of this was going.

Given that she only had a few hours downtime, Jessica took off her glorious heels and uniform, kicking back on the couch in her underwear as she flipped on the wall-mounted vid screen. The flight out from New Zealand hadn’t been overly long, but she’d been awake a good 6 hours before that and in the same set of clothes the entire time and she didn’t want them to get any more ‘lived in’ than they already were. Her assignment had come with instructions not to pack, so she guessed she wouldn’t be staying here long, otherwise she would have brought along a personal bundle with a change of clothes, but for now she was just going to have to make do.

Jessica bypassed the news feeds and pulled up a three year old movie that she had never gotten around to seeing and settled in, having been told not to leave her quarters. Apparently Atlantis was under guard to outsiders, a far cry from the old days when it was a major tourist center. As it was, she was probably one of the lucky few to gain access to the city nowadays, though it was never clear what Star Force was up to, given that they didn’t permit news vid crews in a lot of places, including Atlantis.

She was disappointed not to get to look around, but drowsy enough that when she caught herself nodding off during the movie she conceded that taking a tour of the place might not have been the best of ideas. Knowing that she needed to be on the top of her game for whatever Star Force had asked her here for, Jessica decided to wake herself up with a shower that the quarters thankfully had and lingered there for the better part of an hour before redressing in her original clothing and finishing up most of the movie before her escorts returned.

Slipping on her painful, yet beautiful heels, she followed the pair of guards through hallways full of Star Force personnel crisscrossing about in an almost chaotic fashion, but with a relaxed feel of people who knew what they were doing and going about a routine as opposed to normal pedestrian traffic. She wondered if a shift change had just occurred, because there were far more people moving about than there had been when she arrived, but then again they were taking her into a different section of the city, passing from one elevator car to another, leaving her completely unaware of her location.

Yet another reason why it was a good idea that she had escorts, otherwise she could have genuinely gotten lost.

As they walked she looked around at the faces passing her, not seeing a single old or fat person amongst them. In their identical uniforms they looked almost like clones, save for the color variations. While New Zealand uniforms were all based around the same color motif, with that being a checkered red/white, Star Force uniforms were solid colors denoting which branch of the mega corporation each individual belonged to, and the sea of people around her varied wildly with the most common color being red, which she knew to belong to their logistics division.

That would make sense, given that Atlantis was the hub of their economy, or perhaps she should say controlling hub, for as far as she knew it wasn’t a heavy cargo terminal. It was mostly administration, she’d been told, but by people outside of Star Force, so who knew what they were really up to nowadays.

It wasn’t the largest Star Force city, not by a long shot, but it was the most well-known and right now she felt conspicuously out of place amongst its people. Normally she walked the city streets of New Zealand, feeling an air of superiority due to her status as one of the few individuals within the government that had achieved self-sufficiency, with her 77 years of age putting her on nearly superstar status within the country, but here she felt tiny and almost embarrassed. These people she was passing were probably all older than her, some by more than a century, and each of them had worked their way up through the years to warrant a position in Atlantis, making them the best and brightest Star Force had to offer.

Then there was her, walking with two escorts like a child who didn’t belong from a country that appeared as a mere spec against Star Force’s mass. It was a turnabout she hadn’t expected, and despite herself she could feel a bit of a blush on her face as she passed more and more people, all of which looked like fashion models but none of which were wearing heels. If she could have, Jessica would have flipped them off and walked barefoot, for now they felt stupid and she could see the eyes of those around her looking down at them, followed by an occasional laugh.

Star Force valued functionality in clothing, and her heels were the exact opposite of that…not to mention noisy.

When they came to another elevator Jessica and her two guards boarded it alone and zipped off across another section of city, with her in the back of the car standing behind them. She glanced at the back of their heads, then dipped down and slipped off her shoes, picking them up and scrunching down the elegant straps into as compact of a wad as she could, which she held in her right hand against her side as they walked out.

Both guards turned back when they didn’t hear the telltale clicks of her heels, but after a quick glance down at her feet, then her hand, they ignored the now shorter woman and continued to lead her through the traffic, with Jessica grinding her teeth together trying to suppress the awkwardness of the moment, but she received no more looks from passersby at her feet, which she was grateful for.

After two more elevator hops and a lot more walking the hallway traffic thinned out and she was brought into what looked like a higher level administrative section, through which her journey ended at a conference room with a few other people already inside and its own pair of guards silently standing by in their enormity and pure white armor, both of which she knew meant they were Knights.

“This is you,” one of her escorts said, pointing her inside while they remained in the hallway.

“Thank you,” Jessica said graciously as she walked in, immediately feeling better when she saw the other four people were Star Force outsiders like herself. They were seated around a large ovoid table that had seats for forty, none of which were marked, so Jessica sat down along the right side, giving a nod to a woman three spots down from her.

“Long walk?”

Jessica reddened a bit more. “Very. Do you know why we’re here?” she asked, curious to find out and eager to change the subject from her shoes, which she dumped on the floor beside her feet, both of which were now under the table and out of view.

“No, they told us nothing. Aside from the list of candidates. Who are you here for?”

“New Zealand…and you?”

“Russia. I’m surprised you couldn’t guess by the accent.”

“You barely have any,” Jessica said as another person entered through the door, and she just caught a glimpse of his own pair of guards/escorts disappearing down the hall past the Knights.

“Thank you. It seems as more years go by my mastery of English increases.”

Jessica smiled in response, but didn’t continue the conversation any further. More people were entering the conference room and sitting down, probably being summoned from their own sets of temporary quarters like she had been, though it was hard to imagine any of them having to have come from further away, given the distance that she walked to get here.

She sized them up as they came in, seeing that they were all visibly ‘young,’ though in her case that didn’t hold true. How many of them had attained self-sufficiency she couldn’t know, for while it wasn’t uncommon amongst the non-Star Force nations it wasn’t prevalent either. Her name had been given along with 36 others from New Zealand to her government to choose a representative from, with the instructions being someone that they had full confidence in, both in terms of honesty and skill. Someone that they could trust as an emissary between Star Force and their nations to deal with the verification issues that would be forthcoming.

Jessica assumed the reason she was on that list was due to her experience and self-sufficiency, but in truth it could have been any number of reasons. Star Force hadn’t been forthcoming on the details, but by choosing the list of candidates she assumed they wanted her for a reason…which made her poor shoe choice even more embarrassing, for she wanted to live up to the compliment they had given her.

Beyond that, she was here to represent New Zealand. What they would need a second ambassador for she didn’t know, and had been pondering that question ever since being selected by her government. She got the feeling she was about to find out within the next few minutes, but after all the hours she’d wasted trying to guess, Jessica still didn’t have a clue, and judging by the small talk going on around her, neither did the others.

When the doors were finally closed only half the seats were filled. 18 in total, including her, with no Star Force personnel present. She and the others glanced at each other, not sure what was supposed to happen next, then a door on the opposite end of the room opened and a young and very attractive man walked in wearing Star Force civilian clothing rather than a uniform.

Jessica had an instantaneous crush on him the moment she saw his face…which didn’t register with his identity until he spoke. It was only then that she realized it was Director Davis himself, looking far younger than any photo she had ever seen of him. He looked younger than her, which was impossible, given that she appeared to be in her twenties. She stared at him, a mix of awe and appetite, then realized her mouth was hanging open and pressed her lips together, trying to regain some semblance of professionality.

“Welcome to Atlantis,” Davis said, walking a slow perimeter around the chairs and table rather than sitting down. “Your stay won’t be long, but I felt it necessary that we understand each other before proceeding any further. You’ve all witnessed the revocation of six nations’ sovereignty over their attempt to strike at Star Force via the creation of The Word, and many of your nations have disagreed with those actions.”

“Tough,” Davis said as he walked behind Jessica, who pivoted her chair around slightly so she could face him, as the others were doing. When she did, coming within 2 meters of him, she flushed more than she thought was possible, digging her bare toes into the carpet to try and steady her nerves. Whoever had been responsible for updating the Director’s public profile should have been fired years ago.

“Star Force has been very accommodating to your countries over the centuries, and in fact all of you rely on Star Force to maintain your local economies, not to mention your off-Earth colonies. You’ve had time to get your houses in order, but instead of living up to the responsibilities that come with sovereignty, you’ve leaned on us to do so. As of now, we are no longer being so accommodating.”

Despite her swooning, which Jessica was mentally kicking herself for, she felt the warning in Davis’s tone as he completed his loop around the assembled representatives, finally settling at the head of the table, but shoving a chair out of position so he could remain standing.

“I am rescinding the sovereignty of all nations. As of now, you are all part of Star Force.”

3

Davis held up a hand to forestall questions as the representatives visibly stirred.

“I know this may not be a popular edict, but consider this. It is Star Force that is protecting Earth. Star Force that is feeding Earth. Star Force that is channeling most scientific advancements to Earth. We are sustaining the planet and your so called ‘independent’ nations. In truth, you are already linked to us and not taking any of the responsibility. We are doing it all, while you sit back and reap the benefits, including making laws that work contrary to your citizens’ own good. Without Star Force counteracting your bad policies, your nations would collapse, thus we have been subsidizing your bad behavior…which stops now.”

“If Star Force is going to run Earth, then Star Force is going to run Earth. No more parasites. The 18 of you are from nations that have shown some measure of wisdom and responsibility, but it isn’t enough. You are being annexed, while maintaining a temporary, partial sovereignty during the second stage of the verification process. The nations that you do not see represented here did not pass the first phase. Shortly, their sovereignty will be revoked and Star Force will take full control over their territories. Their governments will be dismantled and we will reorganize them as we see fit.”

“Bottom line is, we’re not coddling the incompetent anymore. You’ve had more than enough time to learn and grow, but most of you have not. You 18 can thank your predecessors for doing something of merit, otherwise your nations would be in the same situation as the others. You have a chance to prove yourselves…a single chance. Whether you make good on it or not is up to you.”

One of the representatives raised a hand, and Davis nodded in his direction.

“What of the nations not on Earth? Are they being annexed as well?” the German asked.

“Yes, but many of them will maintain partial independence. No one will maintain full independence. The details of those annexations will vary based on the history they have with Star Force, but other than knowing that they’re all joining the band, you needn’t concern yourself with their fate. You have your own to worry about,” Davis said, flicking as small remote in his left hand to trigger a hologram over the table.

“Star Force is larger than you know, and it’s time you’re brought up to speed. What you see before you is the current map of our territory. As you can see, we possess dozens of star systems,” he said, triggering a slew of green dots to appear alongside the blue that marked Star Force territory.

“These are lizard systems, and as you can see,” he said, zooming out the map to the point where the blue almost disappeared next to a sea of green, “we’re heavily outnumbered.”

Jessica sucked in an involuntary breath, shocked by the sheer size of the aliens’ territory. Up until now Star Force had only indicated where the battles on the frontier were occurring. They’d never mentioned anything about how large the enemy was, keeping a tight lid on nearly all war news.

“Our allies are here,” he said, adding a slew of other colors that combined did not outmass the green dots. “As you can see, we hold the right flank, looking from galaxy center. We’re not involved in the heaviest of fighting because we’re isolated, but had Star Force not held our ground when we did, Earth would most likely already be in lizard possession…and they rarely take prisoners. Those that they do are slave labor, some of which we’ve helped to free.”

“At present, we’ve made you aware of 6 alien races…the lizards and our allies. The Nestafar,” he said, highlighting their yellow systems with a pulsing of color, “betrayed the Alliance some time ago, siding with the lizards. On their behalf they are fighting the Calavari, their longtime nemesis, and significantly weakening the Alliance. The two races are set to annihilate each other, though we and the other allies are assisting them in their defensive war against the Nestafar. This second war front has not been made public, and is in fact far from any of our systems,” he pointed out with another pulse to both Nestafar and Calavari territory.

“At present, Humanity has a population of about half a trillion. Before this war started the Calavari had an estimated 24 trillion, and the Nestafar 36 trillion, though the exact number now is impossible to determine, for both sides have lost huge chunks of their population.”

“Dear god,” the Canadian whispered loudly.

“The Hycre, our longest standing ally, live inside of gas giants and are altogether incompatible with our living environments, and we with them. They have a population of 19 trillion, and look something like this.”

The galactic hologram lowered down to table level, with Jessica reflexively pulling her hands back from it, as an image of a plump blob appeared over top.

“This is true size,” Davis went on. “They float buoyant in their native atmosphere, appearing rather harmless, but they possess the largest and most powerful warfleet in the Alliance, as well as owning the most difficult of worlds for the lizards to take, given the environmental conditions.”

The image of the Hycre disappeared, replaced by a thin, winged alien.

“This is a Nestafar…and this,” Davis said, adding a four-armed monster alongside it, “is a Calavari, also life-sized.”

“Madre de Dios,” the Spanish representative muttered. “Why haven’t you shown us this before?”

“You didn’t need to know,” Davis said pithily. “Star Force has contact with them, not the nations of Earth,” he said, wiping the two aliens from view and putting up another, this one short and lumpy with a flat-topped head. “This is a Kvash. They are also part of the Alliance, and arguably the strongest race. While the Hycre have naval superiority, the Kvash have size and shield strength advantages, as well as a formidable ground force…something the Hycre lack. Our dealings with them, whose territory lies on the left flank,” Davis said, highlighting their territory, “have been brusque, as they see Star Force as a minor player within the Alliance.”

“I’m not arguing that point with them, given they have a population rumored to be upwards of 50 trillion. Exact numbers they wouldn’t give,” he said, removing the image of the Kvash and replacing it with a gangly insect-like alien. “And finally we have the Bsidd. Their numbers dwarf all others, with their admitted population somewhere between 220 and 240 trillion. They reproduce so fast even they don’t have an accurate head count, and along with the Kvash they make up the left flank of the Alliance, though as you can see our collective territory isn’t flat as you’re used to seeing on Earth, but rather a lumpy cloud that the lizards have been eating into.”

The Bsidd disappeared, replaced by a standard lizard. “This is the face of the enemy that has been made known to the public, but what you don’t know is that the lizards have multiple varieties, each with a specific purpose within their civilization,” Davis said, cycling through all 12 variants, the last of which was a Mastermind whose image had been composited from data provided by Kara’s Vorch’nas.

“We know there are two more versions,” Davis said after it’d cycled back to the standard variant and held that image, “but we don’t have any images of them yet. The lizard numbers are impossible to determine, but it’s safe to say they outnumber all the Alliance races combined, and there are a total of 32, including Star Force. The names we gave you earlier, and the images you’ve now seen here, are the founding members and by far the strongest. Each of which outnumbers us handily.”

“The Hycre brought Star Force into the Alliance, as they did other races. We are a minor player that has been rising in stature, but there are several other races greater in number and military assets. Ours are increasing, but should we face off with another race we’d be in a world of hurt. The only reason we’ve been able to hold out against the lizards is because we’re on the very edge of their territory and not very important as of yet. They’re busy fighting the other Alliance races, plus a much larger foe further rimward known as the H’kar, who they are in the process of destroying.”

“They are not part of the Alliance, but more powerful than any of the races we call allies. Perhaps even stronger than all of us combined…or rather they were. Now they are dying off as the lizards exterminate one system after another. When they finish with them they’ll come harder at the Alliance, and eventually us.”

Davis was silent for a moment, letting the recent revelations sink in as he stared down at the slowly rotating holographic map and the people seated around it.

“So tell me,” he said, leaning down on the table with both arms extended and all but glaring at the representatives, “why should I give a damn about your tiny, pathetic countries?”

When no one answered Jessica bit her lip, then decided to offer her opinion. “There must be something, something small we can do to help?”

Davis looked over at her and slipped a bit of a smirk through his stern face, then he stood up and flicked his remote again, zooming back in on Star Force held territory.

“These systems,” he said, highlighting about a third of the blue dots with a green tinge so that they appeared aqua, “hold an independent Human faction known as Canderous. Star Force created them long ago, and you’ve probably seen their spherical space stations around Jupiter and other planets. They are part of Star Force, but they operate independently. They take orders from me, and especially the Archons when needed, but unless there is an issue they are left alone. Theirs is a military civilization, structured quite differently from the rest of Star Force territory.”

Davis brought another hologram up above the map, with 100 icons floating like pieces of glass, each a different shape and color.

“There are also the Clans. You know a little about them, but what you don’t know is that they are each a nation unto themselves. They exist independent from the rest of Star Force, but are still a part of Star Force. Each Clan is run by one of the trailblazers, the most senior of the Archons. They structure each Clan according to their own unique wishes, and the Clans operate outside of the main Star Force supply lines. They trade with each other, but their mandate is that they remain self-sufficient…same goes for Canderous.”

Another flick of the remote sent the Clan icons to the periphery of the map, with Clan Star Fox’s Arwing icon settling in front of Jessica. She tentatively reached out to touch it, but her finger passed through the light matrix as another alien image appeared.

“While you only know of a few alien races, Star Force has diplomatic contact with hundreds. This one is known as the Kiritas, and they are also part of Star Force.”

Jessica’s eyes widened, but she held her tongue as a few of the others made hushed comments. The revelations were coming so fast her emotions were starting to numb up, and she prompted herself to absorb what she could now and leave her reactions for later.

“When I said that Star Force contained a population of half a trillion, I was referring to Humans. There are, at present, approximately 7 trillion Kiritas, with that number rising quickly at our request. Their civilization is split into two factions…the Kiritas independent civilization and the Kiritak colonies, which function as part of the Star Force infrastructure. The Kiritak exist to provide Star Force with natural resources, and as their population grows so too do the amount of resources they can gather using our equipment and methods.”

“The Kiritas were technologically inferior and suffering from overpopulation when we first discovered them…or rather they discovered us. They came to us asking for help, and we forged a relationship with them that eventually brought them into Star Force…which means that Star Force contains more Kiritas than it does Humans, though we still run the organization.”

Davis altered the holograms again, pushing the Kiritas off to the side and bringing the huge Calavari back up beside it, dwarfing the smaller alien.

“The Calavari are also part of Star Force…not their territory marked on the map, but a number of war survivors that we’ve evacuated back to our territory. We are helping them rebuild on a world we gave them, and incorporating them into Star Force. Their numbers are small, given that we can only evacuate so many given the ships we possess, but as of now there are approximately 300 million Calavari within Star Force, and they too operate as an independent faction, with a handful crossing over to join our main ranks where they’re able.”

Davis altered the hologram again, with a baseball-sized sphere representing Canderous appearing in the center with a large pair of discs labeled Kiritas and Kiritak bracketing it, around which all the Clan markers moved in. Lastly a smaller triangular pyramid representing the Calavari popped up next to Canderous with a large golden square bumping the others aside to get center stage, on top of which stood the Star Force symbol glowing blue.

“This is the true Star Force, as it exists at present. Each piece operates independently from the others, but all work together, not under threat of reprisal or due to some legal code. Star Force is, for lack of better terms, a brotherhood and family. We choose to help one another, we are not forced to do so. This is a critical concept all of you have failed to understand, and you must understand it now or go the way of the other nations that we are dismantling.”

“I have no idea what is happening on the frontier unless those there tell me. Our territory has become so vast they can pretty much do what they want out there, and vice versa, because we can’t keep tabs on one another. We can’t look over each other’s shoulders. We are sovereign, for no other reason than pure geographical distance.”

“For you that is a problem, because it means you lack control, and your governments are structured on control. You force your populations to do or not do things. That is why you don’t understand Star Force. We don’t force each other to do anything. We work together by choice, doing what is necessary. That is why we don’t have a hierarchy. You think that I run Star Force, and you are correct, but the Archons control far more than I do. They’re the ones out fighting the two wars we’re currently engaged in. They’re the ones out making contact with aliens, none of whom I’ve ever met face to face.”

“Star Force is not a single individual, we’re a team, and we trust each other to do what is right and necessary, as well as have the confidence to know that the other guy will step in and help us if we slip up. Canderous is the oldest example of this, and many times the Archons have had to make alterations to it. At first some found this offensive, but over time it just became standard practice, with Canderous seeking to improve itself to the point where Archon intervention wouldn’t be necessary, and they have succeeded, for the most part.”

“We are not enemies, nor competitors, we are brothers working for a common cause. While the Canderians might identify themselves as such, they also identify themselves as Star Force. Up until now that meant Human, but no longer. Star Force has become more than one race. We are a civilization. We are an empire. And if your nations want to become part of that empire, then you’re going to have to prove your worth. The time of Star Force babysitting you is over.”

“Now, each of you have been selected by your nations out of a pool of candidates that we provided. If you are sitting her now, you have skills that Star Force recognizes as at least minimally adequate. Upon you the hard task falls, for I am appointing each of you as the leader of your respective nations, effective immediately.”

“What?” Jessica couldn’t help but ask, but her words were drowned out by half the others saying more or less the same thing.

Davis held up a hand to settle them, and eventually stared them down over the holograms of the various pieces of his growing empire.

“I am no longer dealing with your governments, only you. It is your responsibility to override or work with your nations in whatever manner you see fit during a process of transition. The trick of it is, Star Force isn’t going to tell you how to proceed. If you want to remain an independent faction within the empire,” he said, gesturing to the other holographic pieces before them, “then you’re going to have to prove that you can operate independently.”

“Your task is this. Isolate your nations, which include your offworld colonies, from the Star Force supply chain. That doesn’t include the transportation network. You can still ship cargo and personnel via our jumpships, which everyone else does as well, but you have to produce everything your nation needs on your own, and you have to do it in a way that doesn’t compromise Star Force legal standards, which you must fully adopt. Any other laws you make are your own prerogative, and we will not be advising you on such, but we will be watching and evaluating.”

“Every year that passes you will be held accountable for the progress you’ve made or not made. If you don’t make the cut your nation will be annexed in a manner of our choosing and your partial sovereignty will end. The only way your nations survive is to grow…stagnate, and you die.”

“Earth should be the most important planet in Star Force territory, but soon it will not be, as Corneria has nearly equaled its population, with infrastructure far superior to what the nations have created here. I’m not letting Earth be run by amateurs anymore, and we’re going to remake it into the capitol that it should be. If you want to be a part of that you’re going to have to learn, learn fast, and learn hard, for the training wheels are coming off, and those of you who don’t learn to ride are getting your bikes taken away.”

“Each of you is in charge now. Trick out your bikes as you like, but between yourselves and your nation’s assets, both physical and personnel, you have to get the job done. Period. Or it’s game over.”

The Brazilian representative raised a hand, which Davis recognized with a flip of his chin.

“What’s a bike?”

Davis rolled his eyes and cradled the bridge of his nose between his fingertips as he sighed, realizing that these people had probably never seen a bike in their short lives, let alone rode one.

“Younglings,” he muttered, searching his mind for another metaphor to use.

4

January 3, 2454

Solar System

Earth

Jessica sat on a park bench, looking out at the Wellington Harbor through teary eyes as the heat of the day puckered her bare shoulders with sweat, but she didn’t notice nor care about the weather, nor the crowds walking past her. She was a roiling mess of emotion after coming out of an emergency session of parliament in which they ‘discussed’ the report she’d filed yesterday upon coming back from Atlantis.

Everything was a mess. Star Force had only communicated with the New Zealand government to confirm to them that they weren’t communicating with them any longer aside from going through Avril. She was the emissary, with direct access to Davis, and in charge of the country according to Star Force…something the parliament had been unwilling to accept. Though they had no military to fight with, the government was adamant about opposing the takeover, for what little good it would do for them.

The Americans and Chinese had fought…and subsequently been overrun. Star Force had even managed the takeovers without killing any of their opposition, which just showed how hopeless resistance was even for those nations with a military. Worst of it all was the fact that parliament, who’d chosen her for this assignment, had turned against her. They’d even gone so far as to ban her from all government facilities, labeling her as one of Star Force’s agents.

That hurt, but the worst of it was knowing that New Zealand was wasting its one and only chance to remain sovereign, despite the Star Force security division already present within the country, as well as other small Star Force agencies taking away specific duties and handling them in their own way. And Davis had said it was up to her to find a solution…now that wasn’t possible, given that she’d been banned, meaning New Zealand would be swept up with the other failed nations and cease to exist.

But maybe that was for the best. Jessica hated even thinking that, but looking out over the water through the gaps in the pedestrian traffic ahead of her she began to visualize the changes that were now inevitable, and she had to admit that for the common citizen they’d at least be as well off under Star Force rule as they were now…if not slightly better.

Damn Davis…he was right. If New Zealand couldn’t hold its own then it didn’t deserve sovereignty, especially when Star Force was shielding them from alien threats too large for her to fully comprehend. Parliament had been less than receptive to that as well, not willing to believe what she’d told them. Well, a few did, but the mass of the Representatives denied her claims as a Star Force lie meant to intimate and bully her into compliance.

She’d had nothing to show them, for Davis had given her no information other than what he had shown them in the meeting. Now she thought he had done that on purpose as a test, one that New Zealand was failing. He’d told them what was going on, entrusting them with information that no one else had been given, and instead of using that information the Parliament sought further proof, not because they feared it might be a lie, but because the truth wasn’t convenient to their agenda.

Jessica had been a member of Parliament for more than a decade, but had since moved on to other endeavors both inside and outside of the government, so she knew well how the inner wheels of politics turned and how the verbal lashing she’d just received hadn’t just been for show. They were adamant in their refusal, and there was not going to be any dissuading them, for Davis had said they would be judged on what they did rather than being told what to do, and given no pattern to mimic to maintain their independence, there was no fallback position for them to eventually come around to.

And the clock was ticking. Davis hadn’t set a firm deadline, and that too, she figured, was part of the test. New Zealand had to fend for itself, so Davis was taking the proverbial leash off to see how they ran free, and the stupid Parliament was like a dog chasing its own tail with excessive effort, yet going nowhere.

“Excuse me,” a voice said from beside her, but Jessica barely moved to acknowledge the man who’d stepped up behind her park bench. “Rough day, I hear.”

Jessica sighed, wiping away her more recent tears before sitting up straight and twisting her neck to the side to see the person talking at her. “Very.”

“Do you mind?” the elderly man asked, pointing at the empty portion of her bench.

“Help yourself,” she offered, taking a second look at the man as he sat down. “Have we met before?”

“Many years ago, before I looked like this,” he said with a laugh. “I was one of seven students picked as your escorts during your campus visit to Auckland. I dare say you look even more attractive now.”

“Thank you,” she said to the silver haired ‘grandfather’ figure, who accordingly had a very soothing demeanor. “Your name?”

“Nevil Broncholl.”

The name clicked. “As in Governor Broncholl?”

“Yes, I’m still Governor of our Lunar colony, though I hear for not much longer?”

“You were observing the session?”

Broncholl nodded. “I’m here on business, actually. I had business with Parliament, but it seems that they’re no longer the one I need to talk to. You are.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Right now there is only one man’s opinion that matters, and he isn’t sitting in Parliament. Director Davis recognized you as the leader of New Zealand, and on behalf of Illumia, so do we.”

Jessica frowned slightly, sizing up the man who, despite his physical appearance, was younger than her by at least a handful of years.

“What was your business with Parliament?”

“The independent colonies are facing a similar situation to what you described. Their sovereignty is being revoked, though not in full. They’re being annexed into Star Force but allowed to retain some semblance of identity. The Director’s reasoning was that they aren’t large enough to become self-sufficient, and so long as they’re dependent on Star Force supply lines then they’re going to become part of Star Force. They can’t argue the logic, though our Parliament seems to have overcome that hurdle otherwise known as ‘reason,’ but the colonies still wish to retain the independence they gained centuries ago. It’s very important to them, though they admit not vital. They’re willing to accept annexation, but are seeking another option.”

“What option have I missed?”

“The Director told them they weren’t large enough, so various Governors have been floating around the idea of a merger…with us.”

“And you’ve come to Parliament with their request?”

“With their request and counsel, though given recent revelations I now come to you. You are our only hope to remain independent. Parliament has otherwise sealed our fate, and I regretfully admit that Star Force would be in the right to remove them from leadership…which in a way, Davis already has by appointing you. He’s giving us a chance to measure up, and those of us on Luna are willing to embrace that challenge…if you’re willing to lead us, which I hope you are. New Zealand needs to make this transition, and you’re the only one in a position to make it happen.”

“Circumvent Parliament?”

“As I said, only Davis’s opinion matters. If we do nothing he’s going to be in charge anyway and Parliament will no longer exist. That body is merely a walking corpse. You said Davis told you that you could work with them if you wished, but it was up to you?”

“Yes, he did. So you’re asking me to choose another path?”

“Indeed.”

“By chance have you spoken with our other colonial Governors?”

“About the merger, yes, but I haven’t had time to inform them of Parliament’s recent actions.”

“Of course not,” Jessica said, mentally kicking herself. It’d only been a couple of hours, though to her it felt like days. “Do you think there are enough resources off Earth to accommodate a successful merger?”

“I haven’t given up on the homeland just yet, but if you’re forced down that road I believe it is logistically possible, with a lot of leg work.”

“What’s their pitch?”

“A conglomerate with linked economies, transit, and a military option. They add their specialties to the pool rather than trying to produce everything that they need themselves, which is nearly impossible, unless you were very, very meticulous in planning out your infrastructure. They don’t have the time or resources available to do that in the time allotted, so a merger appears their only option…with each of them working towards individual self-sufficiency down the road.”

“For eventual secession?”

“No. So long as they retain their own identities within the conglomerate they are content. They don’t mind playing for a team so long as they’re not forced into becoming a team player.”

“I fail to see the difference.”

“Forgive me, its athletic terminology. A team player is someone who has no identity, they serve the team and do whatever it requires without autonomy. It’s long been held that a team is a group of individuals working together for mutual advantage, with the ‘team player’ concept having existed previously in a type of communistic philosophy.”

“A band of equals then?”

“Exactly.”

“Davis said we’d have to exist using Star Force’s legal code.”

“Most of the colonies already do. In order to attract colonists and keep those born to them they’ve had to heavily pattern themselves off Star Force, otherwise they’d lose population and self-destruct as many others have.”

“Would they accept me as a communal leader, for that’s the only way I could see this happening under Davis’s terms. They would have to join New Zealand, not just ally with it.”

“But you can remake New Zealand into whatever you wish, if I understood your powers correctly.”

“He said I was in charge and could do what I want.”

“Well then, formulate a new government and I’ll run it by the other colonies.”

“That’s far more complicated than you make it sound.”

“Not when you can make it whatever you want. There’s no need to form a new Parliament unless you deem a good reason for it. We can be an empire, in the traditional format, for a short period of time if necessary to preserve our independence.”

“You mean a single, all-powerful leader?”

“Isn’t that what Davis already made you?”

“He didn’t make me anything, he just mentioned it in a conversation.”

“Power isn’t something that can be given,” Broncholl reminded her.

“It’s something that is created through skill and influence,” Jessica finished.

“I highly doubt the Director of Star Force chose you randomly. He must think you have the skills necessary to lead.”

“He didn’t choose me specifically. I was on a list he gave the government, and they selected me.”

“But to make his list means he decided you were worthy.”

“All I have is a title...or, actually, I don’t even have that. I’m just the ‘one in charge’ without any means to do anything.”

“Our country is coming to an end unless you do. A leader doesn’t do the heavy lifting, she just points out the direction to go. Point, and you’ll find volunteers coming forth with the resources you need. As I said, Illumia will back you, and while we’re not the largest Lunar colony, we’re not exactly small. Population wise we’re a quarter the size of the homeland, and all New Zealand colonies put together amass more than we have here.”

“We…I have to rework an entire country into a self-sufficient nation that will meet up with criteria that Davis won’t share with me. How am I supposed to do that without the homeland?”

“Be creative and get the ball rolling. The homeland will probably come around when it sees that Parliament had no answers, but even if it doesn’t you have a responsibility to the responsible New Zealand citizens who are willing to work the problem.”

“Even if doing so starts a civil war?”

“The country dies regardless if you fail.”

Jessica put her head in her hands, making a sound of frustration.

“You’re also respected by the people because you’ve attained self-sufficiency…and without being athletic.”

“I assume there’s a measure of insult there somewhere?” she said through her fingers as she faced the ground.

“Not from an old man like me,” Broncholl said diplomatically.

“I actually do a lot of running, if you must know.”

“Running’s not a sport, it’s a workout.”

Jessica sat up and looked around, seeing people moving about oblivious to their conversation and how it was going to affect their lives.

“Where do you suggest we start?”

Broncholl smiled broadly. “Let’s begin by taking this indoors, shall we?”

Three hours later Jessica and the Governor were sitting in an office complex with half a dozen corporate CEOs working through multiple ideas of how to restructure New Zealand in a fashion that would suit Star Force’s demands for self-sufficiency along with modifying the economic foundation of the country to operate without taxes…something that every Star Force colony impossibly accomplished on a regular basis.

New Zealand had abolished their income tax a while back, but still maintained sales and property taxes to fund the government, as did local municipalities. The situation in the offworld colonies was a bit different, since their populations lived in habitats where there was no private property, only leases for businesses and personal quarters. That meant the homeland was going to be a larger problem to convert than the colonies were, something that almost tempted Jessica to just forgo the homeland and let it revert to Star Force control while the ‘nation’ of New Zealand continued on elsewhere in the Solar System.

But no, that would be giving up a lot of valuable resources and people. If she was going to help New Zealand save itself then she was going to see that all of it got saved. That meant finding a revenue source other than taxes and a supply chain other than the Star Force markets.

Those two things seemed impossible, but little by little over the following hours and the subsequent 5 days she and others put together a basic plan that leaned heavily on the voluntary participation of native businesses and corporations to come together and spawn a new business that would fund the government the way Star Force’s corporation had in its outset. That new business was an exchange, handling everything from stocks to natural resources, and one that only operated within New Zealand boundaries.

Loyal New Zealand corporations would start to funnel as much of their business as economically viable through the exchange, giving Jessica some quick revenue to begin working with, estimated at 3-5 weeks past inception, which was happening impromptu over her first few days as ‘Empress,’ with more ideas and support pouring in as word got around that she was forgoing the Parliament and seeking to secure New Zealand’s independence according to Star Force terms.

On day 7 of her quest the Parliament sent their police force after her with orders to arrest and detain, but by that time she’d already picked up a Star Force security escort, which made quick work of the police unit sent to retrieve her. Then, unexpectedly, Star Force backtracked the arrest order to the Parliament and arrested them, meaning suddenly her opposition was out of the picture and she was left with sole command of the country.

After that happened everyone flocked to her side, seeing her as their only hope of averting a Star Force takeover, which became ever more real when they saw the members of Parliament being taken out of the capitol in restraints. The news vids quickly caught on to the sentence they were receiving, which was confinement until the fate of New Zealand was decided, after which they’d be released.

That meant no imprisonment for the Representatives, just house arrest that Star Force security and the local New Zealand police worked out the specifics of quickly, getting the troublesome politicians out of the way of the sweeping changes that Jessica Avril, Emissary of New Zealand, as they’d eventually come to call her, was making to upgrade their country enough to keep them alive in a world where almost every other nation was being wiped off the map.

Jessica also told the public why, and how she didn’t disagree with Star Force’s actions. Humanity was at risk, and if New Zealand wanted to continue to exist they had to measure up and offer something of value, no matter how small, to help Star Force rather than be a parasitic drain on the organization that was actively protecting them from alien annihilation.

With that message firmly established, New Zealand’s population became united in a way they’d never seen before, with virtually everyone working to find ways to make their nation more powerful and less reliant on outside resources, tech, and personnel. It was grow up or go home, and the nation as a whole was now game to meet that challenge.

5

January 1, 2455

Solar System

Earth

With the turning of the New Year Jessica was summoned back to Atlantis, ostensibly to receive New Zealand’s report card on their actions over the previous year, but like before the Director hadn’t specified. Though she had direct communication access to him, they’d only spoken once, that being when she’d run the merger concept by him. There hadn’t been much discussion, but he had okayed the concept, and Jessica hadn’t pushed for more after that. They were, after all, supposed to learn to do for themselves and she felt that asking Davis for things would undermine that purpose, so her line to the ‘Emperor’ had gone virtually unused.

Likewise Davis hadn’t contacted her, save for the recall message she’d received three days ago. A mantis had picked her up in New Zealand and flew her east towards Atlantis, just like it had a year ago, save for this time she remembered not to wear high heels.

When she got to the city she was taken to temporary quarters again, but her stay there lasted only 20 minutes before her escorts came and led her to what looked like the same conference room as before, though it was difficult to tell given the size of the city and her inability to keep track of exactly where she was being shuffled around to.

When the doors closed she saw that the 18 nations that had been represented here before had now been cut down to 12. The faces she now knew well, as she’d become acquainted with all the ‘emissaries’ over the past year. After all, they were now the most famous people on the planet outside of Star Force, with the pressures and tasks placed on them making for the largest reality show the planet had to watch…with the stakes higher than anything they’d witnessed before.

Because of that Jessica’s every move was followed by the media and scrutinized heavily, not just by New Zealand, but by the rest of the planet and even those offworld. The entire Solar System was watching, but fortunately there were no cameras here, in what appeared to be the second round of the ‘Nation Games.’

Across the table from her were the Russian and Brazilian reps, with Marcus Stosur seated to her right. The Australian was a friend she’d known for the past 2 decades, but the others she hadn’t personally met aside from their brief meeting a year ago. The other 8, seated on her left around the curvy table, were from Spain, Ukraine, Canada, Germany, Sahara, Argentina, Scandinavia, and Poland.

“Welcome back,” Davis said, walking in and sitting down between the Australian and Russian reps. “As you’ve probably guessed, you’ve all made it through the first cut, not because your countries are sufficient, but because you’ve made strides in that direction. Due to this, you can rest assured that your nations will retain their identities even if you fail beyond this point. Those that are not here with us will not have that luxury. Their political borders will be scrapped and a new layout set in place. If/when we fully take over yours, you won’t suffer the same fate. That much you’ve earned, at least, though your governments will be totally replaced and all social structures gutted and replaced with Star Force standards…but your names and borders will remain intact,” he said almost mockingly.

“Now, to the business at hand. You’ve had 1 year to begin reworking yourselves, with some of you making more progress than others. That progress may have gotten you this far, but it will take you no farther. You have a total of 5 years to make the full transition, of which 1 has already passed. At that point you will either gain full sovereignty or you will be relegated to some limited autonomy as deemed appropriate, as many offworld colonies already are being transitioned to.”

“That’s the end date, but for the coming year there are two major hurdles you must pass, at minimum, to proceed further. That is the abolition of all taxes, and the 100% production of your own foodstuffs. I suggest you don’t focus exclusively on these two things, but these are must haves by year’s end.”

Davis glanced over at Jessica. “To another matter. Those nations that are not present at this table may be inquiring of you to form mergers to avoid their being annexed. You can accommodate them as you choose, but with their populations and resources comes their baggage as well. Their territory will become yours, and you will be judged accordingly. Do not take on more than you can handle, if any, but the choice is yours.”

“Some of you have been inquiring about information regarding the alien threat, to which I’ve responded in the negative. That has not changed. You don’t need to concern yourself with what’s out there, you need to focus on what’s happening here.”

Davis leaned back in his chair and flipped both hands up in an open gesture.

“Questions?”

“One year is a very short timespan for that level of construction,” the Saharan commented.

“If you were starting from scratch, yes, but the reason all of you were given this opportunity is because you had already accomplished some things on your own. Those of you who accomplished less than others are at a disadvantage, but it is one of your own making. The truest test takes place when you don’t know you’re being tested. If you didn’t build infrastructure on your own, when no one was making you, that goes to show you’re irresponsible. This makes your current requirement more of a challenge, but as such, your countries’ current conditions are irrelevant to the finish line. You will either make the cut or you won’t. How or why you fail is irrelevant.”

“Is there a middle ground to achieve a partial level of autonomy?” the Spaniard asked.

“Yes.”

“And what are those requirements?”

“Each year is a round. There are five rounds in total. The more you pass, the more autonomy you get.”

“There are no alternative requirements?” the German asked.

“Maintaining the food supply is one of the most critical responsibilities within a civilization,” Davis underscored. “If you can’t do that independent of Star Force’s supply chain, then you don’t deserve autonomy, for autonomy isn’t a privilege as much as it is a responsibility. If you want autonomy you have to prove yourselves worthy, and that starts with an independent food supply.”

“Can we purchase bioharvest infrastructure from Star Force?” Jessica asked.

“At this round, yes, but that will not always be the case.”

“Which round do we lose that option?” the Saharan asked, whose North African country sported thousands of the Star Force designs out in the desert wastelands.

“Not this one. As for the others it won’t matter if you don’t make it past round 2.”

“So you’re not telling us what’s ahead?” Jessica asked.

“You know what’s ahead,” Davis countered. “Full self-sufficiency. Get there how you like, but do it quickly.”

“And if we like taxes?” the Saharan asked half sarcastic.

“Taxes are cheating. If your governments are competent they won’t need to rob the wallets of the…excuse me, rob the personal bank accounts of their citizens, nor those of their businesses to stay financially afloat,” Davis said, realizing he was referencing another metaphor that they wouldn’t understand. Nowadays there were no such things as wallets.

“May I ask,” the Russian said coolly, “what our military requirements will be?”

Jessica frowned. “Are there going to be military requirements?”

“There will be security requirements,” Davis said ambiguously. “In order for your nations to be independent you have to be able to police your own territories. You cannot rely on Star Force’s military or security division any more than you can our markets. Now, I don’t mean to say you’ll be contributing troops to the ongoing wars…that would be rather absurd given how inferior your military technology is compared to ours, but you cannot be a victim waiting to happen. You have to have the ability to react to, at minimum, organized criminal or mercenary attacks.”

The Russian nodded, seemingly content given the fact that they now fielded the largest military after the downfall of the United States, many of whose disarmed captured ships they’d recently purchased to bolster their own fleet.

“When you refer to self-sufficiency,” the Scandinavian asked, “does that mean operating outside of Star Force or on our own?”

“Meaning can you trade with the other nations here?”

“That and the various corporations operating out of Star Force territories.”

“While trade is an important facet of economics that you need to master, for the purposes of this test you must eventually produce everything in house. So no, you won’t be allowed to trade with other nations or corporations, though at present you still can. Understood?”

“Yes,” the man said reluctantly, and from there on the questions got more and more depressing as the various emissaries began to explore options and have Davis shoot them down one after another. While many of them understood the basic concept of self-sufficiency, they kept trying to find a loophole to allow them to work around it, knowing how difficult it was going to be to transition their countries over to an entirely self-contained economy…not to mention having only a handful of years in which to do it.

“Miss Avril, might I have a word?” the Saharan asked as Jessica and the others were walking out of the conference room some hours later.

“Of course,” she answered, stepping aside in the hallway around one of the giant Knights standing guard.

“In private?”

“I’m not sure exactly where that would be around here,” she asked with a laugh, looking for her escorts and finding them nearby. “Are we required to leave immediately?”

“What is it that you need?” one of the pair asked.

“Someplace where the two of us can talk before we head back to our respective countries.”

The escort nodded. “Shouldn’t be a problem. There are empty rooms nearby,” he said, glancing at his counterpart who walked off to find them one.

“Thank you,” the Saharan said with a respectful nod.

Not wanting to talk in the presence of the Star Force personnel or the other emissaries that were mingling outside and throwing a few curious glances at the Saharan, they waited quietly until the escort returned and guided them to an empty, enclosed balcony overlooking an indoor park of massive scale. There was an assortment of benches and decorative plants and waterfalls, making it seem as if the platform was a halfway zone between the austere city interior and the organic space beyond.

“We’ll be outside when you wish to depart,” the escorts said, with all four of them walking out of view, though with no door into the hallway, only a zigzag entrance to obscure the view and isolate the balcony, it was still likely that they could overhear the pair.

“Thank you for speaking with me.”

“You’re welcome, Amman. What’s on your mind?”

“As I’m sure you’re aware, Sahara is an exporter of foodstuffs, meaning we’re already self-sufficient in that category.”

“Unlike the rest of us,” Jessica quipped.

“Some more than others. I was wondering, if it’s not private information, how is New Zealand set at present?”

“It’ll be tight, but we have a fair chance of making the deadline. A few of our colonies are foodstuff exporters as well, and if we can get them to increase output it’ll swing us close to the mark.”

“Your annexation of extraneous colonies has served you well?”

“Like the Director inferred, they also come with baggage, but most offworld colonies are already partially self-sufficient due to the realities of existing in space. It’s the homeland that’s dragging us down, as I image is the same for everyone else?”

“Russia appears to have the worst of it, given their Earthbound population, but Sahara is also suffering from this ‘drag,’ and despite our status as a foodstuff producing nation, there is no chance that we will be able to abolish all taxes within a year’s time. I’ve been running the numbers constantly, and the simple fact is that we rely on the taxes and private industry for everything. I’ve studied your solution to the problem, but our nation is nowhere near as diverse as yours, with most of our resources being achieved through external trade.”

“To put it bluntly,” he continued, “we cannot function without the Star Force markets. I’ve been trimming back the problem where I can, but 5 years is not nearly enough time. Perhaps if I had Davis’s skills I could manage something, but I do not. My country has also been somewhat resistant to my leadership, and I must admit that I envy your position.”

“They weren’t too keen on my leadership in the beginning either,” Jessica noted.

“This I heard, but now you have a free hand to act as you wish?”

“They trust me…as well as realize there’s no other way to do what’s necessary in the little time that we have.”

“Yes, time is of the essence, and you have a foodstuff production shortage to address…so I humbly offer a shortcut to you dilemma.”

“I’m listening.”

“We will not pass round 2, and though our borders and name may remain, I fear little else will after Star Force gets done ‘upgrading’ us. We’re already beginning to see it happen in other countries that failed to measure up, and I’d like to avoid that happening to us, even if it means playing a supporting role. Though my government may not agree, like you, I have the responsibility for my nation, and I will override them if necessary, so I am asking you on behalf of Sahara, if you would consider accepting us as a New Zealand colony. That, I believe, will solve your foodstuff inadequacy over the coming year.”

Jessica’s eyes narrowed as she considered all the implications. “Why us? I’m sure the others need your foodstuffs, perhaps more than we do.”

“I’ve been studying you and your tactics, as well as those of all the others, and you were the first to begin incorporating other factions into your nation. Others have copied your methodology, and I for one wish I could have as well, but all the prime colonies have gone to others, and the few that remain would be more of a burden on us than an asset. You’ve turned down many requests, yes?”

“Unfortunate, but true. I would like to incorporate as many people into our pot as we can, not because I think Star Force will do wrong by them, they won’t, in fact they’ll do better than we can, but controlling your own fate has an appeal that’s worth working for, so I’ve had to be choosey, for if I overload us and fail all of us default back to Star Force control.”

“You’re also allowing your colonies some measure of freedom?”

“A measure, yes, but make no mistake when I say that I…for lack of a better term…rule them all. We can’t subsidize colonies’ bad behavior and inefficiencies, so if they’re not interested in making changes I’m not bringing them onboard…and those that are interested, but are too burdensome, I’m reluctantly having to pass on too.”

“Would Sahara be a burden or an asset?”

“Honestly, both. Your homeland population is far larger than ours, and so far I’ve not been inclined to accept any homeland nations into our conglomerate. Your foodstuff production is something that may make me reconsider that, but without running through the logistics I can’t give you an answer here and now.”

Amman smiled. “Not that I expected you too. If you decline I’ll be forced to go with other offers that will no doubt be forthcoming, but I can give you a month to consider your options. Will that be sufficient?”

“If you can provide economic statistics, the real ones, not those floating around the news vids. I don’t know who’s providing the bad numbers, but I’ve made a few corrections to ours, which is why I haven’t been taking the reporting on the rest of you all that seriously.”

“I will provide you with all the data you need, but while we do have our shortcomings, I believe a merger would be in both nations’ best interests, and I am confident the numbers will back that opinion up.”

“Thank you for coming to me with this first.”

“New Zealand might not be the power player here, but the odds makers have you fifth in line as of late.”

“I haven’t looked,” Jessica admitted. “What’s the odds of no one making it running?”

“3:5…only slightly behind Australia’s 1:2.”

“I have a feeling that once this round’s requirements hit the news those numbers are going to alter significantly.”

“It’s a shame we’re forbidden from placing any bets of our own.”

“Not my area of expertise,” Jessica said kindly, looking up at the slightly taller man.

“Well then, if there are no questions you have that I can answer now, I’ll see to getting you those statistics as soon as possible.”

“I…” Jessica started to say as she saw a number of tiny people in the park below her come running out of the trees into view and start getting knocked around by a larger man wearing all black in some sort of a training exercise, she hoped.

“Future soldiers in training,” Amman said, following her eye line. “It’s said the Archons take their basic training here. Perhaps that’s what we’re seeing.”

“It’s so…brutal,” she said, though not being able to make out much detail from the height they were looking down from.

“I expect we’d be surprised by a great many things they do here. I doubt we were meant to see even this.”

“Accidental security breach?”

“Or a coincidental privilege. Either way, it is fascinating to watch. Makes you wonder what’s actually going on out on the frontier.”

“I get the feeling I’d rather not know the details,” Jessica said with a frown. Fighting had always been a turnoff for her.

“Yes, well, we both have a great many of our own to deal with as it is,” Amman said, turning away from the wide window. “Until our next meeting then.”

“Whenever that may be,” she offered with a smile as the pair walked out and split up, with their escorts taking them different ways through the city to their waiting mantises.

6

January 4, 2455

Solar System

Earth

“We can’t do it,” Jessica said to her roomful of advisors as they stared down at a tabletop workstation that had a plethora of statistics on both Sahara’s and New Zealand’s economic situations. “There’s no way we can accommodate that much cost, we’re barely skimming by as it is without any tax revenue.”

“I agree,” Travis Ven said, rubbing his goatee thoughtfully. “If we had more time we might be able to work something out, but with only a year…it can’t be done.”

“Can we get enough foodstuff production up and running as is?” Governor Broncholl asked, who’d permanently reassigned himself to Earth to assist Avril with the Nation Games while running Illumia from afar.

Jessica shook her head. “Not at our current production levels. The homeland is dragging everything down.

“Arcadria is boosting production as fast as it can,” Ven said, being Jessica’s official liaison with that Lunar nation that had recently come onboard as one of 22 additional New Zealand colonies in her country’s new conglomerate, bringing the total up to 37. “Coupled with help from Nadia and Crodd, we may be able to meet the demands of all the colonies, leaving the terrestrial territory to our remaining production base.”

“Which is insufficient,” Jessica reminded him.

“At present, but we have a year to work with.”

“Sahara is the key,” Karen Drake said, tapping on a non-sensitive portion of the touchscreen tabletop above their bioharvest statistics. “Not only in passing this round, but giving us enough of a surplus of basic foodstuffs that we can diversify out into luxury items and not have to subject the population to categorical rationing.”

“Do you see a way to make it work?” Jessica asked.

“No, but I’m convinced there has to be one. We just haven’t found it yet.”

Jessica took a step back from the table and rubbed her eyes, weary from so much data shuffling. “Let’s look at this from another angle. We’re not Star Force, and we can’t do things their way, which is usually the best way, so is there a not so good idea that would work that we’re overlooking?”

“Abandon the homeland,” Broncholl quipped sarcastically.

“Actually,” Arron Ecsten, her fourth of four primary advisors, mewed, “that might be preferable than failing to pass this round.”

“Says a non-native,” Broncholl pointed out, for Ecsten was also from one of the newly joined colonies.

“No…no, he’s right,” Jessica admitted. “Star Force would keep everyone onboard and make it work, but we have the luxury of jettisoning our ‘baggage’ because we know what will become of it.”

“They’ll be better off with Star Force’s resources anyway,” Drake added, “rather than having to skim along with the rest of us.”

Jessica nodded.

Broncholl stared at her disbelievingly. “You can’t be serious?”

“Very serious,” she said, tapping on the table and moving aside the mounds of data sheets in exchange for a map of all their current possessions, laid out in iconic format to include all 37 colonies alongside the appropriately shaped New Zealand home islands. “Let’s look at this as an academic exercise, shall we? What can we cut and where. Explore all options.”

“What about a sell off?” Broncholl suggested, if only to avoid the idea of abandoning the homeland. “The government holds a great deal of property. If we offer it up to private enterprise it could give us the influx of currency that we need to build new infrastructure.”

“Or to support Sahara for a calendar year,” Ecsten added.

Jessica tapped a finger in the air, indicating that there was a valid point. “What do we have that Star Force doesn’t…as far as private industries are concerned?”

“Nothing that I’m aware of,” Ven said with a half-hearted laugh.

“Land,” Jessica insisted. “They have to pay continual leases to set up in Star Force territories, or taxes in other countries…which will now no longer be an option. What if we were willing to sell them land that they’d never have to pay another credit for after purchase?”

“It’d be a long term investment,” Broncholl said, thinking as he spoke, “that would be contingent on New Zealand retaining its independence, for Star Force most likely wouldn’t honor the sales if we fail and they take over.”

“No they wouldn’t,” Jessica admitted with a smile. “It’d be a gamble…and a very lucrative one at that if a corporation could pull it off. Some of them would try, I’d wager, if we gave them the opportunity and the appearance that we’re in a solid position for making it through the rounds.”

“Transitional capital,” Ven said approvingly.

“We’d have to build fast, but at the moment we can still buy Star Force contracts,” Jessica teased.

“Wait a moment,” Drake said, holding up a painted fingernail. “Doesn’t Sahara have a lot of unused land space?”

“In government possession?” Ven added.

Jessica pushed aside their virtual map and dug up the information on the other nation, which included a geographical layout of property rights within the country. Almost all of the bioharvest facilities scattered across the desert were privately owned, the tax money from which fueled the country’s treasury, in addition to the leases they paid for being set up on government owned lands.

“Most of it is government owned,” Jessica confirmed, seeing large tracks of land that were as of yet undeveloped in between the bioharvest oases spread out across the once useless territory. Star Force’s internal bioharvest technology had changed that, turning the desert into a breadbasket once water lines from the ocean were established to feed the facilities that then recycled most of their lost moisture.

“If you can strike a deal with Sahara,” Broncholl suggested slyly, “that gives New Zealand actual possession of the country, then we can sell off these unused lands and give us a wealth of credits in addition to sale of land here, and perhaps a bit out in the colonies as well?”

Ven stiffened slightly. “I’m not sure how popular that will be back home.”

Jessica waved the notion off. “The agreement we have doesn’t give New Zealand total possession, so the nations that joined us as colonies will be exempt from this plan, though the ones we already possessed will be an option,” she said, throwing a glance at Broncholl. “But the main draw is the Earth territories, given the environmental conditions. If we’re going to be funding Sahara’s lack of tax revenue, I might be able to broker terms to get what we need…or they might figure out what we’re doing and just do it themselves without us.”

“Not if they’re wise,” Ven disagreed. “It’s a onetime influx of credits, not a steady flow. Without their bioharvest industry to tax they’re a poor nation, so they can’t go that route.”

“A fair point,” Broncholl acknowledged.

“Alright,” Jessica said, raising a hand. “I’ll contact the Saharans and see if we can hammer out a deal. You guys keep working on theoretical cuts, both as a backup and maybe something we can do to stack our odds.”

“Now?” Drake asked as Jessica turned to walk away.

“We can’t waste a day, or an hour,” she said, looking back over her shoulder. “Keep working and let’s try to maintain the advantages we’ve got while we’ve got them.”

A year later Jessica found herself alone in the back of a mantis heading for Atlantis, reminiscent of her previous 2 visits. The year had gone by so fast, yet so much had happened that she felt like she was in a time warp. New Zealand had been invited back for round 3, which was a huge relief. With their finances teetering and the foodstuff production flowing adequately, the New Zealand conglomerate was holding to the requirements Star Force had set down for round 2, but she knew that Davis was looking at other factors as well, and she’d had a bad feeling that he was going to nix her over them…but that had never come to pass.

She’d only received word a few hours ago, upon which a mantis showed up to whisk her away along with the other ‘victors’ to where they’d hear the terms for round 3, or so she assumed. Davis wasn’t telling them anything, and that among other things was what was lending this whole endeavor into a game-like environment, which had Jessica constantly thinking ahead, even while scraping to meet the current requirements.

Sahara had successfully been integrated into the conglomerate, but only piecemeal. Several high population centers had been cut out, leaving her with the most resourceful areas of the country as an independent colony in league with New Zealand. That independence had been hard to come by, given that Amman had to effectively secede from his own nation to achieve it. His government now had control over the ‘discarded’ regions, but without a means to fund itself now that the taxes from the bioharvest facilities were gone.

Upon his request Star Force had already started to move in and annex the old government, which was none too happy with being discarded. The Saharan people, meanwhile, were doing a lot of traveling as they decided which side of the line they wanted to be on. Those loyal to the independent Sahara moved into the New Zealand colonial zone while those wishing to either oppose the split or live under Star Force rule left for the carved out regions that were already seeing a major facelift as Davis’s construction crews came in and started reworking the major infrastructure along with an influx of supplies that the populace was not accustomed to.

Many felt the immediate benefits of the Star Force takeover, so there wasn’t much widespread ill will about the split, with plenty of ardent supporters within the borders willing to work to maintain their independence, even if as a New Zealand property. With Amman’s help they’d already set up a colonial government in line with the rest of Jessica’s mandatory structure, with her appointing him Governor now that his role as emissary was now over.

With the foodstuff production from the new colony filling in the cracks, as well as providing them with exports, Jessica had been able to devote her attention and resources to other problems, some of which she was only anticipating Davis to pounce on in later rounds, hoping to get a leg up on the deadlines before they came down.

With a load of credits that was steadily increasing as excess land was being sold off to, in her opinion, either brave or stupid entrepreneurs that saw the value in paying a large upfront cost only to never again have to worry about paying a lease, which would considerably cut down their expenditures compared to the corporations operating out of Star Force territories, Jessica was able to create a number of startup programs, the first of which was a communal security force.

Part police part military, it was a tether that was intended to bind the various colonies together, staffed not of locals, but of a core group of individuals recruited and trained together. She hoped this and other programs would provide a backbone for the conglomerate that would make it a true nation rather than just an alliance. Adding to the security force, she also set the basics for educational and training facilities that all the colonies could use, ridding them of the necessity of maintaining their smaller facilities and allowing them to reduce their individual operating costs.

In theory, anyway, for these were just starter programs that needed time to build, but she knew she had to plant the seed early, which was why she’d consolidated many of the various colonies’ resources into communal projects, including shipyard facilities, the bulk of which were having to be built new. They’d contracted Star Force for that job, hoping to give themselves the capability of building their own ships so they wouldn’t have to rely on outside purchases.

Fortunately there were already some New Zealand yards of smaller scale, along with those of companies within their borders that gave them some immediate capability to begin building the security force vessels that the program would need once it got off its feet, and the same for their infantile cargo distribution and transit network.

There were so many programs starting up that it was difficult to keep them all straight in her head, and right now she was worried about what the next round would entail. Would they have time to build, or would they have to scramble to catch up? Already there were a line of nations asking to join up, most of which she had to put on hold or refuse, though by cutting up several of them piecemeal they’d added another four colonies to their territory, bringing the total number up to 42 not counting the homeland.

For the length of the trip out to Atlantis she was trying to guess at what Davis was going to assign them to do this round, going through numerous mental calculations and predictions for the umpteenth time. She knew she needed to grab a few hours of sleep now that she had the chance, but her mind was far too wound up to allow for that, leaving her in an anxious state all the way out to Atlantis.

Fortunately she didn’t have to wait when she arrived, and was taken straight to the conference room, being the last inside. When the doors shut behind her she sat down amongst 5 other nations’ emissaries…meaning that half of those in round two had been eliminated.

Those that remained included the big three of Russia, Brazil, and Australia…along with Canada and Germany. Canada, with a large bioharvest export capacity in its frozen northern landmass, had merged with Scandinavia and a scattering of other colonies and nations that were already set up for Star Force annexation. Germany had done the same with off Earth colonies, but had not taken on any homeland nations, leaving the others that had failed to make round 3 now out of the ‘game’ entirely.

“Six remaining,” Davis said, appearing from the other entrance as he had the previous two times. “You’ve done moderately well to get this far, though some of you have had to get very creative to accomplish it.”

The Director sat down and activated the hologram above the table, this time with an image of the Earth with all the various nations outlined.

“The mergers that some of you have been making are hereby no longer tenable for the nations that did not receive an invite to this test,” he said, hitting a button and wiping their borders off the map, leaving most of the planet in a unified blue representing Star Force territory. “The others are still in play if you wish to take them onboard during this round. Annexation programs there are still in their infancy and won’t reach end game levels for some time, thus preserving the option. Oh, and the offworld colonies are likewise out of play.”

With the touch of his handheld remote the planet rose up, clearing space beneath it where a laundry list of items appeared.

“Now that you have enough foodstuff production that your nations won’t starve to death, the next step is the quality and diversity of said foodstuffs, with these items all being required to be produced by your respective nations in amounts unique to your populations, the numbers of which we will provide you. These are not the only products you may make, just the minimum list.”

Davis shoved the list aside and popped up another, floating in glowing letters between the emissaries and slowly rotating in place so all of them could glance at it face on at some point.

“In this round you will also be required to produce raw materials, with the minimums on the list before you. Corovon, you will note, is not on this list. It is a rare material that you will be allowed to purchase from Star Force in perpetuity, or from the Russians, who at present have a small mining facility in the Prancer System. Some of you already have recycling facilities to reclaim the C-type elements, and I would encourage you to continue down that line of thought, for you will be required to create and maintain a stockpile of 45 kilograms at all times for the remainder of the rounds.”

“How you acquire it is up to you, but I don’t want you relying on Star Force’s ability to provide it to you instantaneously. If our supply lines are interrupted, you could experience shortages, and therefore you must have a reserve in play to accommodate ongoing construction projects.”

“Other requirements for this round include the following: establishing a societal database compatible with and linked to Star Force’s computer network regarding the identification of all individuals within your nations. Up till now there have been some lurkers that have never crossed through a Star Force facility and thus have never been cataloged. That is no longer an option.”

“Star Force’s code of business rules will also have to be fully applied. Most corporations will be operating and selling across our borders, thus the rules will be universal. No exceptions for local market exclusives.”

“Production of all dropships must now occur within your own borders. You can purchase them from corporations within your borders, but they must be fully produced there. Likewise you will now be banned from purchasing dropships from Star Force.”

“You will be required to establish and maintain a military force equivalent to the rating level 11 that some of you are already familiar with. Three of you already possess this rating, the others do not. Given that Star Force doesn’t sell weapons, you must either produce or purchase them on your own merits. Confiscated ships in Star Force possession are now off limits as well, though you may purchase them secondhand through other individuals if the opportunity arises.”

“Lastly, each of you must build and have operational a spaceport/starport link from Earth to Earth orbit. This must be an entirely new build, not a refitted existing facility, and accomplished either by your own construction crews or by corporations existing within your borders. No outside corporation or Star Force contracts are permissible.”

Davis added each of those requirements to the holographic group floating before the emissaries, with Jessica swallowing hard at the sight of them…and the implications they held for the coming year.

“That’s right,” Davis said, guessing as to their thoughts. “It’s getting harder. If you can’t keep up, you don’t deserve to run with the big dogs.”

7

April 19, 2455

Solar System

Mars

Luis Remma stood waiting on the holoprojector, running what he was about to say through his head again so he didn’t have to rerecord this message a fourth time. Given that Mars and Earth were too far away for realtime communications, even at their closest orbital approach to one another, Luis’s communications with Director Davis always had to be achieved via message. He would have preferred to have spoken with the man in person, and had considered traveling to Earth to do just that, but one advantage of the communications lag was that he had several attempts to word his request just right, for a lot hinged on this conversation and he didn’t want to screw up a potential opportunity by coming off with the wrong tone.

With his mental point list ready, he thumbed the record button on a pedestal to his side and the hologram began recording.

“Director Davis. On behalf of Brazil I want to extend my thanks for the opportunity you’ve given us to achieve full sovereignty within Star Force’s restructuring of Humanity. After conferring with my advisors and our government, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is not in Brazil’s best interests to try and achieve full sovereignty. Our nation is best suited when intertwined with the Star Force markets, and while many believe that succumbing to Star Force control is a loss of freedom, I disagree.”

“You are far wiser than us, and we have learned much from you and wish to continue doing so as an integrated part of the larger economy rather than try and establish our own separate niche of it. You stated previously that the further we progressed through the rounds the more autonomy we would attain if we failed to proceed all the way to conclusion. Brazil is willing to continue with the testing in order to guarantee a suitable balance between integration and autonomy, but we have no wish to fully succeed.”

“Therefore I am asking you what our current level of gains amount to, and what it will take to secure an arrangement similar to that which the Ananke Republic currently holds, but on an interstellar scale. We do not wish our furthest colonies to be separated from us, if applicable, nor our strengths diminished. We want to assist Star Force in its endeavors here, and if possible in the wars on the frontier if there is a means to do so, but to do so as part of the system rather than a separate entity.”

“The specifics of how this would work are not clear to me, hence this message. At current we are attempting to assemble enough stockpiles of corovon to meet this round’s requirements, which you know is rather expensive. If we need to meet this requirement to attain more autonomy then so be it, credits well spent, but if we can assimilate into the Star Force structure now under suitable terms we’d prefer to put our credits to more beneficial use than obtaining a backup supply that we wouldn’t require.”

“I am not contacting you to barter, but to seek your counsel and clarification. What do we need to do in order to work from within the Star Force system rather than separate ourselves from it?”

With that he held still for a moment, then reached over and hit the stop button…then the replay and watched it through twice before deeming it sufficient and sending the message off through the comm grid, knowing it would reach Earth within minutes.

Luis stepped off the holopad and took a seat a few steps away, waiting for the reply that usually occurred promptly, given the direct access Davis had afforded him…so long as he didn’t catch him on a sleep cycle, and according to his watch Atlantis time was currently 11:34 am. With a sip of very early morning coffee, Luis sat for a few minutes staring at the wall monitor that showed a dark horizon, with the sun not set to rise for another two hours, then he pulled up a news vid and watched at half volume, consigning himself to wait as long as necessary for the reply so he could respond promptly when it came in.

Davis was in his office, as was typical, when the message came through. He put aside the shipyard expansion plans for Venus orbit and played out the message on his holographic desktop, only mildly surprised by the content. He hadn’t expected any of the nations to actually make it through the verification process, not because it was impossible or unfair, but it required them to have displayed foreplanning prior to the beginning, with it being virtually impossible to throw together a fully capable nation, even at what Davis considered to be minimum standards, within a 5 year span.

He would have given himself a 50/50 chance with a treasure chest of credits and an empty territory purchase, but they weren’t him, nor did they have his experience. That said, Australia, Russia, and Brazil had a decent foothold on the problem given their long and beneficial history with Star Force, though none of them had been where they needed to be, still relying on taxation and a myriad of other old school bad habits to sustain themselves, with Australia being the one to show the most progress.

As it was he figured they alone had a decent shot of making it, for they’d done considerable retooling before the verification edict had come down, and even more so since then…but they still had a long way to go and not a lot of time to do it, so he wasn’t really surprised to hear the Brazilian request. It was both logical and forward thinking, with their efforts to date accomplishing, if nothing else, to show them how incapable they were of true sovereignty.

That put the remaining nations down to three, with Canada having immediately realized that there was no way they could meet the military and corovon requirements on their own. Before they’d hit February they had negotiated a deal to consolidate with New Zealand, abandoning their own bid for sovereignty and adding to that adhoc conglomerate that appeared doomed to fail, yet was limping on far longer than Davis had expected.

Germany had given up a month ago, unable to secure a merger with any of the other nations, leaving the original big 3 plus New Zealand. With Brazil now out, for Davis was going to give them what they wanted, which amounted to a governmental replacement and restructuring that would maintain and upgrade all of Brazil’s current assets while removing their politicians, he figured it was highly likely that one more would go before the year was up, and he was hedging between New Zealand and the Russians.

Australia, he knew, already had a stockpile of corovon because Star Force had recommended they create it more than a century ago. It was insufficient at present, but they were adding to it rapidly and he assumed they’d get the prerequisite amount, along with meeting the other round 3 requirements, most of which they were already in compliance with.

New Zealand he expected to drop this round, but he was hedging his bets as Avril kept pulling one rabbit out of the proverbial hat after another, unwilling to write them completely off. Russia was the question mark, for while they had access to corovon mines of their own, plus a well-established military, they were beset with a number of lingering problems, the biggest of which was their reliance on taxation. With that option now gone they were financially weakened, having to rely on stopgap measures and draining their reserves to stay afloat long enough, they hoped, to begin generating the necessary revenue.

They were fervently cost-cutting wherever they could, including selling off military assets to New Zealand, which was trying to assemble the prerequisite force through acquisitions rather than in-nation builds, which Davis knew they had no time for. The Russian ‘empire’ was larger than Brazil’s, and only slightly smaller than Australia’s, but it was heavier than both with a dense population and a large operating overhead. They had gone for a bulk approach to colonization expansions, building and building with little effort put into efficiency…and now that their heavy taxes were now extinct, that bulk was suffocating them.

Already they’d jettisoned several territories, with Star Force stepping in to stabilize and annex them immediately. It was sloppy and reckless on the Russians’ part, leaving so many people hanging, but they knew Star Force was going to pick up their scraps so Davis didn’t hold it against them officially, but it did attest to their lack of foreplanning, something that was necessary for a nation that expected to survive past today.

But the Russians didn’t have many choices, from their point of view, and were doing whatever they could to survive to the next round of the Nation Games as the media had come to call this contest, and which, Davis admitted, he had structured in a way that gave it a competitive feel. His own purposes behind it were lost on the public, for this was no game, though Star Force being there to pick up the pieces offered a sense of security that was not present in reality…which was what he was trying to hammer home to the nations involved.

They had to be able to survive without him and Star Force, thus he had no qualms about putting the pressure on them in this time-constrained test. If they hadn’t prepared beforehand, and weren’t capable of learning quickly, then he was going to wash his hands of them. The time for tolerating these pretenders was almost over. Either they raised their game to a level he could work with or they’d be annexed into subservient colonies in which Davis could cut out all the dead weight that was dragging them down, replacing their leadership with his own appointees and getting everything moving forward in a typically efficient and redundant Star Force manner.

He did give the Brazilians props though for recognizing the situation for what it was and making the best call for their nation, for which he was going to reward them. Wisdom is what he was most looking for in the verification tests, and they were displaying a considerable amount now.

Davis ran through the list of terms he would need to give them, and decided it was too many to just wing, so he pulled up a writing prompt and keyboard and began making a list. Star Force security, transit, and military applications would assert themselves over what the Brazilians already possessed, along with a number of smaller applications that Star Force handled better with ‘empire’ personnel, but the rest of Brazil, in all its territories and systems, would continue to operate on local assets, though those would be reorganized as deemed necessary by the transitional leader that he would be appointing.

Actually it’d be a large team that would go through and make changes to Brazil where necessary, though in this case he was going to take a personal hand in making those changes. It’d take a chunk out of his available work time, but he felt he owed them a few tweaks here and there where he could make them to keep their national identity more or less intact. They’d been a longtime ally, unlike many of the other nations, and he wanted the new government to reflect that, even if in the end they hadn’t been able to measure up.

Germany was another matter, being a nation that had rode the metaphoric fence throughout its history. Its annexation would leave it geographically intact, but most of its core structure was going to be rewritten into a more or less brand new nation, saving what pieces of it were deemed functional. The colonies it’d absorbed recently wouldn’t stay with it, and split off to form or merge with other factions as deemed prudent.

Brazil would keep all of its, though Davis was undecided as to what to do with Russia when it finally caved. There were large chunks of the nation that were well developed, along with sections that were totally unsustainable. He’d been teasing himself with the mental challenge of how he could salvage their situation if it was his doing, during his off hours, which were few, and while he saw several avenues to pursue, none of them were obvious…and he wasn’t going to give them any tips. This test was about what they could figure out and achieve on their own.

New Zealand, when it finally caved, was a monstrosity that had to be disassembled. Davis hadn’t formed any firm plans as yet, but he’d been floating a few ideas for the Lunar colonies and some of the other off Earth ones, but the conglomeration of territories on planet was a mess that he could tackle in any number of ways.

Australia, if they couldn’t make the leap he was asking of them, would remain intact, much as Brazil would be, for they had been Star Force’s most staunch supporter and attentive student. Davis had already been planning their light annexation, with the only real question being how long it would be until he implemented it.

But in truth, while he spent an amicable amount of time on the nations of Earth, his recent thoughts, when his mind was free to wonder, were focused on what the Archons were doing out there, as he thought of it. He’d never been outside of the Solar System himself, and rarely off Earth. Sometimes he felt like a prisoner in Atlantis, though the only one confining himself there was…himself. Logistically he had to remain here, unless there was a really, really good reason to go elsewhere. Star Force’s empire had grown so large, and the Solar System so densely populated, that he needed to remain here to oversee it while his most closely trusted ‘apprentices’ oversaw the other systems, Hightower first among them and running Epsilon Eridani, Star Force’s second home system.

Once the verification procedure was over and the old nations converted into proper Star Force colonies, a great deal of his attention could be turned elsewhere, for they were really the wildcard in the system. He realized now, as he had somehow missed before, that his focus should be the same as the Archons…the war they were fighting and that would, if not somehow blocked, find its way to Sol and Earth.

Patience, he reminded himself. Only a few more years and his headaches with Earth would be abated. Then, as a united front, they’d turn their full efforts to fueling the monster of an empire that the Archons were creating out there, and which Davis had little to do with. He’d taught them well, or rather, they’d learned well from him, then taken the tools and personnel he’d given them and ran wild with it. They had his full trust, and on occasion, even taught him a thing or two.

The Kiritas in particular intrigued him, and he could sense the immense power they wielded…not in a military sense, but from an economic one. Natural resources were critical to their ability to counter the lizards, and the little aliens were proving to be very adroit at procuring them once given Star Force equipment and training. Randy in particular had done a spectacular job with them and the creation of the Kiritak, with Davis eagerly awaiting any progress reports from Beta Region as he followed their progress.

More and more he found himself wanting to be out there, on the frontier, working with them to build and expand their empire. Occasionally he’d offer suggestions, tweaking some of their plans they sent back for his appraisal, but for the most part they were on their own, sovereign nations above and beyond their Clans. The trailblazers were everything the nations of Earth weren’t, and Davis badly missed their company and counsel.

But they needed him here, and he knew it. Without Sol’s massive industrial machine, the Archons wouldn’t have a tenth of the warfleet they currently fielded, and he knew it had to get larger…much larger, in order to give the trailblazers even a chance of holding back the lizards, which was what he was working on at Venus and other locations. They needed more shipyards and engineers, and were finding the later far easier to acquire than the former. They were especially short of the massive slips necessary to create the progressively larger ship designs that were starting to put them on par with the other races, as far as tonnage was concerned.

Davis was part of a team, and he knew he had to come through on his end, else the trailblazers, no matter how skilled, would be too shorthanded to succeed.

With that thought in mind he set himself to the task of composing the return message to the Brazilian emissary, for once he had that task completed he could return his attention to the important matter at hand…that being Humanity’s continued survival.

8

June 9, 2456

Solar System

Luna

“There’s no way around it,” Jessica said firmly. “You have to meet your quotas.”

“Your requests are putting a strain on our ability to maintain our exports,” Manfred Elon said to her far right on the gigantic ring of a table that seated the 37 colonial heads she’d summoned to the moon. “Without them, we cannot maintain the market you set up to fund your government.”

Jessica leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table.

“If we don’t get that jumpship built, there won’t be a government.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Broncholl said from his seat beside Jessica, “Illumia is feeling the strain as well, but the only way we have even the slimmest hope of keeping to the construction schedule is by going all-in, markets or not. Once this project is complete the flow of natural resources will resume, making this a temporary disruption only.”

“Not if Davis adds another even more ridiculous demand in the final round,” Elon pointed out. “Merkeria is more or less self-sufficient, but to meet your quotas we’re going to have to compromise our reserves and begin scrapping current infrastructure in order to make these quotas. If this was a onetime issue then it might be feasible, but we have no idea what Davis will demand next.”

“No we don’t,” Jessica admitted. “And I agree that building our own jumpship probably isn’t the most drastic item on the Director’s list, but it’s what we have to do in order to stay alive through this round. So unless you want to forfeit, let’s discuss ways of making this happen rather than offering up additional negativity. I know well the strain this is putting on our collective economy, and believe me when I say that I’m having a much harder job holding everything together than you are in your respective colonies.”

“That point is well taken,” the Arcadria Governor emphasized. “You’ve done a miracle of a job holding this group together thus far, but the numbers are just too steep for us to manage.”

“That’s why I asked you here, because you know your colonies better than I do. You can find ways to scrape up more resources that I cannot. We all but gutted our credit reserve buying up corovon, so this next ‘miracle’ is going to have to come from you,” Jessica said, leaning back in her high-backed chair and remaining silent, leaving the floor open for someone else to speak.

“Have you considered a merger with the Russians?”

Jessica looked at the Governor from Channi, a collection of orbital habitats that sat in high Earth orbit beyond Luna. “No, nor have they offered. And I would like to point out the stupidity of such talks now, given that both they and us are already well into the fabrication stages of our jumpships. The time for merger talk would have been at the outset.”

“Our colony will meet its quota,” he insisted, “but the others will not. They cannot. Most are tapped out already, and I’m not taking their word for this, I’ve been going over the numbers. There simply isn’t enough resources off Earth to finish the jumpship, and you wouldn’t be up here trying to shake the proverbial tree if our planetary colonies were putting out. I’m assuming they’re mostly consumptive. Am I correct?”

“Partially,” Jessica allowed. The homeland territories were a considerable draw on resources, but they were also producing specific items that the conglomerate needed, so it wasn’t like they were a dead weight around their neck…as several talking heads in the media had suggested.

“Then I don’t think we’re going to even get close to finishing the jumpship, let alone on time. We have three weeks to dig up additional resources or the production timeline is screwed. If we can’t make it on our own we need to consider all options.”

Several other Governors nodded, and she could sympathize. They were trying to keep their colonies independent, and didn’t truly care who they had to ally with to do it.

“Then let’s discuss all of these ‘options,’” Jessica offered. “If you have something to add, no matter how small, now is the moment, and we’ll take as much time here as needed. If we’re coming to the end of our run, let us make sure we leave no rock unturned.”

Three days later she left Luna via orbital ferry, transitioning from one Star Force starport to another as the dedicated starship carefully flew her and several hundred other people through the mass of stations that littered Earth orbit. Jessica sat in one of the plush passenger seats between two other people, neither of which she knew, sagging heavily as the weight of her responsibility seemed to be crushing her into her seat.

It was over now, and she knew it. She’d convinced the Governors to continue meeting the quotas as much as they realistically could, leaving the door open for her to find another way out of the jam they were in, but what little she and her advisors hadn’t previously considered the Governors had thrown out at her, detailing the ‘end of the road’ scenario they were now in.

Her New Zealand conglomerate was now more or less self-sufficient…but it had few resources left to do anything else other than keep itself running. Davis had said he wasn’t interesting in dealing with weak parasites, and while her nation might have gotten off the parasite rolls they were the textbook definition of weak. Forcing the remaining nations to undergo a construction project of the size and complexity of building a jumpship, even when Star Force had supplied the blueprints, was an all too true test of their industrial muscle…for it was showing they had none.

Constructing a spaceport and starport had been challenging enough, but the jumpship was much larger, and while not one of the monster varieties Star Force was producing nowadays, it contained so much mass that, without the exterior markets to buy resources from, New Zealand was coming up painfully short, and there was no magic wand around to summon up parts that didn’t currently exist.

The Governors had agreed that, unless she could figure out a way to get past this round, it would be preferable to be annexed into Star Force as they were, rather than attempt to solicit a merger with the Russians…not because they didn’t feel that was a workable option, which some people differed on, but because the Russian system of government was not to their liking. An alliance might have worked, but absorption into Star Force, who’d already let the Brazilians maintain most of their former structure, was deemed preferable to conversion into the hierarchical Russian domains.

So they’d basically finished their summit by working out the details of their demise, leaving Jessica without even the slightest flicker of hope of coming up with a solution. She’d gotten so used to ignoring the impossible and finding a way to do it anyway that she hadn’t realized how much of a hole she’d dug herself into, for with each progressive round of testing, New Zealand’s lack of preparedness was becoming more and more obvious, with her no longer able to make feasible adjustments after the fact.

She should have been proud of getting them this far and maintaining their national identity, unlike most of the other nations on Earth that were being cut up and reorganized to Star Force’s liking, but pride was not on her retinue of emotions at present, and the entire trip back to Earth was a dejected affair…which fortunately she was able to endure in private, thanks in large part to the dark wig she wore to conceal her bright blonde mass of hair.

Without the public’s attention on her for the moment, she had a long time to just sit and think, replaying every move she’d made and considering others that she’d passed up, trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong…but in the end she could find no solution, either because there wasn’t one or because she just wasn’t good enough to find it.

She got off the ferry at a Star Force starport, then secured a ride over to the nearby New Zealand version which was already showing a meager profit, despite its hasty construction. There she boarded a dropship and headed down to the planet, landing at the linked spaceport and traveling off on a dedicated rail line that would take her back to Wellington.

The wig was doing enough to camouflage her that she expected the train ride to be equally quiet, but only a few minutes into it a man walked up beside her at the window table she sat at and smiled down at her warmly.

“Rough last few days?”

“More than you know…and I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not in the mood for company just now.”

“I understand,” he said as he sat down opposite her anyway, pulling out an ID card that he slid across the two person table between her elbows and directly under her face as she held her chin in her left hand lazily. “But I’m not here to chitchat or hit on you. I’m here on business.”

Jessica sat up straighter and picked up the ID card, seeing that it tagged him not as a New Zealander, but as an Australian…and a high level member of their government at that.

“We’ve been monitoring you, which was why I was able to hop the same train back at the spaceport. Please don’t take offense, we don’t view you as competition or an opponent, but we wanted to keep tabs on all the other nations involved in the Nation Games. You’ve stood out from the others, and now that your nation is about to default, I’m here to offer you another job.”

Jessica frowned. “Who said we’re on our way out?”

“Your face, for starters. We’ve also been monitoring your economy statistics and know you’re nowhere close to finishing your jumpship…not to mention you don’t have enough corovon to create the drive cores without dipping into your stash, which would also cause you to default.”

Jessica’s face soured even more, though there was also a note of inevitability in it that showed she was starting to vent a bit of her pent up anxiety. “You’re very well informed.”

“We try to be,” he said with a soft smile.

“And what is it you’d like from us? Short on corovon yourselves?”

“No, we have secured an ample supply. There is nothing we’re asking from your government, this is a personal request to you and you alone.”

“So no hope of a bailout merger, I take it?”

“I’m afraid not. While you’ve done well patching together a workable government from disparate nations, Australia prefers to retain our existing…oh, how shall I say it…standards?”

“I envy that,” she admitted. “Do you think you will be able to hold them to conclusion?”

“Whether we can or not we’re not considering any mergers. As to our chances of making it to full sovereignty, that’s what I’m here to maximize. Now that you and your governors have concluded that there is no feasible way forward…”

“You’ve been spying on us too?”

“Making some educated guesses. Stop me if I’m wrong.”

“Go on,” Jessica prompted, leaning back in her seat and removing her elbows from the table.

The Australian repocketed his ID card. “When your nation officially defaults, we’d like you to help us make it through the 5th round. Your, shall we say, scrounging skills are most impressive, and we don’t expect the Star Force Director to make completion of this test anything but near impossible. He wants capable allies, and won’t let us off easy.”

“Have you had this discussion with the Russians?”

“No, they’ve already defaulted, though that hasn’t made the news vids yet. We’ve arranged to purchase a great deal of their equipment, with the credits going to stabilize their already toxic economy and pay off existing debts before Star Force begins reworking, and reworking heavily I would imagine, their governmental structure, which is exceedingly bulbous.”

“Bulbous?”

“Top heavy would be another term, unlike yours. You’ve managed to run your nation with what amounts to a skeleton crew.”

“A crew of skeletons maybe,” she said sarcastically, referencing the long hours they’d been working. “What is it that you’d like me to do for you?”

“Troubleshoot…as a short term hire, if you prefer, but we’re offering a full position and citizenship within Australia. We’d like you to become one of us and, if we’re able to pass this current test, help us plot Australia’s future forward.”

“A lot of ‘ifs’ there.”

“That we are aware.”

Jessica twisted her lips up in a curious expression and leaned forward, noticing a couple of eavesdroppers nearby. She lowered her voice.

“What exactly do you need me for?”

“Thinking outside the box.”

“You have a box?”

The Australian smiled. “Are you always this charming when sleep deprived?”

“I can never seem to remember. Now, what is it specifically that you need help with,” she pushed.

He lowered his voice, also noticing a few eyes turning their way.

“Using the tools we’ve got in new ways.”

“You sure you’re not hitting on me?”

“No…should I be?”

“It might help your selling point.”

“I didn’t realize I had so many assets at my disposal.”

“Just a few, but then again, remember where I’m sleep deprived?”

“Yes, but any agreement here and now has to hold up in the light of tomorrow’s clarity, so I was going with the logic angle.”

“Sensible, though not as much fun.”

“I’m here on business. Fun can wait till later.”

“How much later?”

“How soon do you default?”

Jessica sat back again, laughing once. “Well I will say, if nothing else, you’ve lightened my mood, and I thank you for that.”

“There’s no rush. Take a few days and think about it…or a few months. We’d like to have you onboard, though, when we hear the round 5 terms.”

“Assuming you make it that far.”

“We plan to.”

“Such confidence. Reminds me of me a couple years ago.”

“We’ll take that as a compliment then.”

“We?”

“It’s a team effort, thus a team compliment.”

“I also have a team…one that’s not going to be easy to walk away from.”

“Once you default, it won’t truly matter, will it?”

“That depends on the transition and how much sovereignty Davis leaves us with.”

“Do you have good people?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then leave your former nation in their hands and come join ours. It’ll be Star Force calling the shots soon enough anyway.”

Jessica looked out the window at the low level buildings carpeting the landscape, with larger clusters popping up at various points in the distance where the ‘cities’ were located, at least those she could see around the mountains.

“I just got everything working here…” she complained sarcastically.

“A good reason not to waste the experience.”

Jessica glanced back at him, then returned her eyes to the window. “You’re an awfully smooth talker for someone so young.”

“Truth works wonders,” he said, seeing a ping of respect in her eyes. “And in fact, while many within Star Force might consider me young, I’m actually your elder by a couple of decades.”

Jessica raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve read your file,” he explained.

She looked at him closely. “So that’s what self-sufficiency looks like in a male.”

“Oh, now don’t start gender bashing. I’ll be forced to reciprocate and spoil this rapport we seem to be developing.”

“Yet you’re only humoring me.”

“Like you said, you needed a morale boost.”

“For a pep squad you’re doing quite well.”

“You’ve got skills that we need, and New Zealand no longer does,” he said, letting the playfulness dissipate a bit.

“You may be right, but like you said I’m sleep deprived. No answer I give now will hold up.”

“Which is why I’m not asking for one, just laying out the offer.”

“Laying out…” she said, considering his word choice with a smirk.

“Were the situation different, I might have had a second meaning there, but given your status and importance to Australia, I’m sad to say my intent is entirely professional.”

Jessica fake sighed. “Not exactly what an overworked, sex-deprived girl wants to hear.”

“Sometimes the truth hurts.”

“But we need it none the less. Any more innuendo-laced compliments burning on your brain, or is that the end of your pitch?”

“I think I’ve made my point.”

“Not nearly far enough.”

The Australian smiled again. “If and when you come to a decision,” he said, pulling out a datachip and placing it on the table in front of her. “Now, before my professionality flags any further, I’ll leave you to think…or nap,” he amended as he stood up and saw her very lovely face from another angle.

“Would a forehead red mark be unprofessional?” she asked candidly.

“It won’t diminish our interest in you by the slightest.”

“Good,” she said, offering him a faint smile as he walked off and into the next car. Once he was out of view she glanced around, taking stock of those near her and deciding they were unimportant enough. She crossed her arms in front of her on the table and lowered her head on top of her wrists, realizing just how tired she was as she phased out into the bliss of the crash nap within a matter of seconds.

9

December 26, 2456

Solar System

Earth

Jessica arrived at the primary airport in Wellington with three large bags of belongings and boarded a flight for Canberra early in the morning. With Christmas festivities over, she’d wanted to get a fresh start on her new job, in which she’d agreed to come on as a temporary advisor to the Australian government. She left with no fanfare, for she hadn’t told anyone the date or time of her departure, but she had gracefully stepped aside from the transition effort as the New Zealand government she’d put together began to be cut up and reorganized by Star Force administrators.

She could have helped with that, but no one begrudged her leaving it to others. She’d done everything she could to keep New Zealand independent, and no one of merit blamed her for the failure. In fact most people gave her credit for keeping them alive through to the fourth round, which would afford them additional privileges after the transfer, though what exactly they were Star Force had never spelled out. If it was anything like what the Brazilians had got, then her country would remain more or less intact, though with the adhoc conglomerate she’d hastily formed, there was no way to be sure how much of it Star Force would keep together.

But that was behind her now, professionally and privately. She had no regrets, ultimately deciding that New Zealand just hadn’t been strong enough entering the verification testing to make it through. Had it been a challenge where everyone started off on an equal footing then it would have been a different story, because there would have been a way to win and it would have been her fault for not finding it, but in this game that wasn’t the case, as Davis had made clear the various nations had to think and act for themselves, and not just be led around by Star Force’s edicts.

As the large Australian mantis took off, she and some 243 other passengers watched the urban landscape beneath them eventually drop off into ocean, then enjoyed a calm, almost unchanging view for an hour or so until the Australian coast came into view well below them. Jessica watched it on the viewscreens, having only visited twice in her life. While New Zealand was heavily urbanized, Australia was not…at least not in the conventional sense.

Even from the extreme height the mantis was flying she could see the tiny shapes of the spires that dotted the coast, each of which was a large building constructed by the Australian government. Taking a cue from Star Force, they’d abandoned all private property rights and systematically rebuilt their cities with a forward thinking design.

Each spire was 1800m high, and identical to all the others, inside of which there were multiple levels of ‘private’ property. While technically the government owned the building and maintained it, they allowed the individuals they’d previously dispossessed to buy permanent leases inside for a very high cost, or pay a regular, cyclical lease as most people did…but not for living quarters. Those were free to everyone, with other pursuits, business or personal, requiring currency to attain.

The spire design was unique to Australia, with a very thin tip that only widened considerably when it got close to the base, which splayed out like a suction cup against the surface. This allowed considerable airspace between the spires, taking away from the claustrophobic feel of most cities on Earth. Each building flowed into those beside it, allowing for no land space or external streets. Everyone was housed inside, with some surface-top recreational facilities giving people access to the sun and air in the wide valleys between spires.

Though she couldn’t see it from here, for the coasts were covered with what looked like metallic hairs, the interior of the continent had been left to the wild country it had always been. As they needed, Australia was adding more spires and nipping into the raw landscapes a little more with each decade that passed, but they had not allowed any other building in the ‘natural’ regions, preserving both the land space for future building and what had become a rarity on the overcrowded planet...wide open spaces.

Australia was the one country that still had them, which garnered a huge tourist market which they restricted to manageable levels. With such high population on Earth, the Aussies had become more and more clandestine, keeping to themselves and holding others out, not for the purposes of being rude or selfish, but in order to keep their country in proper order, whereas other nations had let the crushing mass of Humanity turn it into a chaotic and often deadly circus.

As the mantis flew lower, heading for an airport in the nation’s capitol, with a thin band of spireless land separating the coastal ‘cities’ from Canberra. Once it crossed over that nature preserve the aircraft was flying at less than 3 miles in altitude, with the spires now looking more impressive and very lethal, as if they were there to protect the surface from murderous balloons coming down from orbit.

Jessica had to admit, that of all the nations, or rather she should say ‘former’ nations of Earth, Australia was the closest to Star Force’s level of civilization, though they definitely had their own unique motif. She didn’t know if they’d be able to hold onto their sovereignty or not, but they were far beyond New Zealand’s level and she could feel it in the city architecture as the mantis came to a stop over top one of the few breaks in the spire field and hovered in place for a moment before descending down to a landing pad along with a lot of other air traffic coming in and out.

As their elevation dropped, one spire stood out from amongst the rest. It was taller than the others by a mile, thicker too, and was her eventual destination. Odd how it only showed up now when she could see it from the side, before it had more or less blended in with the other pointy structures, all of which were the same dull white coloration.

When her flight set down she exited through a gantry that nested up to the mantis, allowing her and the other passengers a level walk off into the terminal where she retrieved her bags and was met by an Australian who took her and her luggage off through the undercity beneath the spires via a transit car that ran on a set of tube tracks that made up for a lack of vehicular streets. Once inside, her attendant simply input the destination code from a navigation map and the automated system scurried them off through the tube system that didn’t allow for any view other than distance marker light bars out the window/door.

Jessica couldn’t feel the acceleration and deceleration as the car switched tracks and turned corners, for it had an onboard inertial dampening system, making the 12 minute trip feel as if they’d simply stepped into another room and sat down for a rest. When they eventually arrived she wheeled her stack of bags out into the terminal and was led to a smaller elevator car to take them up into the prime spire they were now situated beneath.

Like the transit network, the elevator system operated the same way, allowed for vertical and horizontal movement within the building, all of which was unfelt. When the double doors slid open again she saw what was apparently a residential area, for there was a large circular square with a fountain in the center and a dozen or so doors around the perimeter, along with three hallway entrances. The attendant led her down the right hall, passing even more doors, until they came to another circular foyer, this one with a large potted tree in the center.

“Here you are,” he said, bringing her to one of the doors on the curved wall. “Access code 217. You can reset it internally using the same number,” he said, punching the exterior keypad and opening up her new quarters. He stepped aside and let her enter first, dragging her luggage behind her.

When she entered the lights automatically came on, revealing a very large and well-furnished quarters. Too high end, in her estimation, for it was far better than any residence she’d had in New Zealand, even when she was the defacto head of government.

“All mine?” she asked sarcastically.

“I can provide you a map if you like. The bedroom is over in that quadrant somewhere, I believe.”

Jessica smiled. “I’ll manage. When and where am I supposed to report for duty?”

“You’ll be working exclusively out of this building, but the elevators won’t allow you to use them without a special keycard,” he said, holding up his own. “I’ll make sure you get yours within the next few hours, but feel free to move anywhere around the spire by foot. There are food, shopping, and entertainment facilities inside so the denizens don’t have to travel far, though once you’re settled feel free to explore the city. The buildings all look the same, but the interiors are very different.”

“I’m not here on a vacation, I’m here to work,” she reminded him as she left her bags in the center of the entry foyer’s floor and meandered over into the main living area…which was the size of a large patio sunken down into the floor with wall-spanning vid screens displaying a fake, green exterior of an encroaching jungle landscape. Two other doors exited from it, leading to additional rooms.

“In truth you’ll not be needed until after the 1st, but it may be useful to familiarize yourself with our staff and work areas. I can give you a tour after you settle in here.”

“Including economic data?”

“That you’ll have to ask someone else for. I’m just the tour guide, ma’am.”

“Is Vincent Ray also located in this spire?”

“He is.”

“Can you tell him that I’ve arrived and would like to speak with him as soon as possible?”

“No need,” a voice from behind them said.

Jessica turned around, mildly surprised to see her recruiter there…but then again, she’d half expected him to be the one to pick her up at the airport.

“I’ll take it from here, thank you,” the man said to the attendant, who nodded and walked off.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Jessica said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not needed till the 1st I hear?”

“The word ‘need’ has been misconstrued,” he said, walking over and stopping a meter in front of her. “You’re free to start work before then, but once Stosur gets back from Atlantis with the round 5 details we don’t want to waste a minute of time, meaning we want you present for all meetings thereafter.”

“That’s better,” she said, loosening her arms and turning her back on him. She walked down into her pit of a living area and looked around the huge room, hearing him follow her down.

“Sufficient?” he asked.

“You know damn well it’s more than I’m used to.”

“Actually no, I don’t. Some private quarters are far more extravagant than this, and most of the ones I’ve seen pictures of were not in Australia. Some were from New Zealand, so I assumed you’d been given the royal treatment when you’d assumed the emissary post.”

“I was working, not relaxing.”

“Well, now you can do both.”

“Unless you have some specific task for me, I’d like to start with a complete overview of your economy and infrastructure. Can I access that information from here or do I need to be on a secure level?”

“I can bring it here, along with some food if you like? I don’t believe the pantry has been stocked as of yet, and if you want some more complicated plates we’ll have to order out, though there is a standard cafeteria one level above.”

“Order in and bring the information with you,” Jessica said without hesitation. “And make sure you’re available for extended periods of time. I need someone with firsthand knowledge of your systems to guide me through the basics.”

A look of resignation crossed over his features. “If I must.”

“You must,” she said coyly.

“Shall I also move into the guest room?”

“I’m not here for sex, I’m here to work. So don’t get your hopes up.”

“Never crossed my mind…but it does seem to be on yours,” he said, flipping the onus back to her expertly.

She smiled, suddenly caught off guard. “Perhaps it is.”

“What would you like to eat,” he said, returning the conversation back towards professional.

She squinted at him. “Actually, you can probably tell me. After all, you did a thorough background check before recruiting me.”

“Background checks don’t usually involve popular foods unless you have an allergy.”

Jessica didn’t answer, merely raising her eyebrows.

Vincent rolled his eyes. “Pizza, pancakes, or lasagna?”

She nodded fervently. “You did, didn’t you?”

“We like to be thorough.”

“Including my taste in men?”

“If that was taken into consideration, I was never told.”

“Hmph…pancakes and sugar sticks, if you have them.”

“Easy enough. I’ll fetch the food and leave you to unpack.”

“Get my ID card on your way,” she added as he began to walk out.

“Of course,” he said, then disappeared out of view and earshot.

Jessica sighed and sat down on one of the petite, but very comfortable chairs, sinking down into the cushions and leaning her head back, looking up at the high ceiling. This place she could definitely get used to.

A week later she and Vincent met up with the Australian leadership in a planning area of the governmental spire as Stosur was returning from Atlantis. They had 5 Regents, all of whom were elected from a pool of high ranking personnel in the 5 divisions of their government…Bioharvest, Mining, Industry, Security, and Research. Like a few other republics that had been established by Star Force, the people didn’t vote on a popularity contest, allowing unskilled individuals into positions of power. All ‘candidates’ had to have a level 12 rating, the highest possible within their respective divisions, to qualify for the elections that were held every 10 years, with each division staggered into two year intervals.

Stosur had only been a level 11 bioharvest administrator, and he’d confided in her in several long talks they’d had leading up to the new year that he had no idea why Davis had put him on the list. Vincent had told her that Stosur had been picked off the list by the Regents because he had a solid grasp of logistics and a knack for creating efficiency in places thought already to have been maxed out in that department.

Stosur had been more than welcoming of Jessica, whom he regarded as a peer in this whole endeavor, essentially giving her an equal spot to his at their small leadership table, and the Regents hadn’t disagreed. The seven of them, plus a few extras like Vincent, who were level 12 officials, were waiting for Stosur in a large, communal workstation that had several platform tables with touchscreen interface and individual holoprojectors…while there were two large scale units on either end of the elliptical chamber. One showed a diagram of the Solar System with all of the Australian colonies highlighted, while the other showed a schematic breakdown of their economy, with a swarm of numbers and graphs eating up the airspace.

Eventually Stosur walked in, with the door sliding shut behind him, and Jessica could immediately tell he wasn’t in a good mood.

“I know that look,” she said as the others remained silent.

Stosur walked up to the table most of them were standing around and leaned his elbows on it, lowering his head slightly as he shook it.

“We’re in trouble.”

“Do tell,” the Bioharvest Regent said.

“For the final test Davis is citing our need to be able to deal with unforeseen cataclysm, and to do so he is providing that cataclysm. Beginning on the 5th, he is levying a tax on all our possessions within the Solar System.”

Jessica’s face scrunched up. “A tax? Star Force doesn’t use taxes.”

“It’s for the purpose of simulation,” Stosur explained, running his fingers through his short, loose hair. “Should we lose a part of our infrastructure, we have to be able to maintain vital services without it. Redundancy is the lesson here, though he didn’t say it outright.”

“We’re already fairly redundant,” the Mining Regent noted.

Stosur shook his head. “He’s hitting us hard, judged by a set of economic variables.”

The emissary pulled out a datachip and stuck in into the table’s appropriately sized slot, bringing up a slew of graphs on the tabletop.

“If any of these indicators drop below the red marks, even for a single hour, we lose,” Stosur said, visibly vexed.

“What’s the tax?” Jessica asked, knowing that it had to be something fierce.

“Half of all our bioharvest produce, industrial produce, and natural resources will be given over to Star Force…though our stockpiles are immune. It only effects the active production. Also, there is a 50% tax on all revenue, not profits, but sheer revenue that our government functions on.”

“With our reserves having dwindled due to the jumpship project,” the Industry Regent remarked angrily.

“I don’t see how we can manage on half resources,” the Bioharvest Regent warned, with the others nodding their agreement.

“Not just manage,” Stosur corrected, “but keep our economy afloat in all categories,” he said, looking at Jessica. “This is his last hurdle to cross, and he’s sticking it to us hard. Any ideas?”

All eyes turned to her, and she was very thankful for those long flirtatious, but ultimately nonsexual study sessions with Vincent.

“A few, if you’re willing to get creative.”

“Define creative,” the Security Regent asked.

Jessica glanced at Stosur, referencing a conversation they’d had about her experience with New Zealand’s unsuccessful bid.

“Painfully scrappy.”

The emissary nodded once. “Let’s get to it then. We’ve got two days before the tax is implemented.”

Jessica suppressed a smirk and turned to Vincent. “Food, boy, we’re going to be pulling an all-nighter.”

He laughed once, then glanced at Stosur and reluctantly headed for the door. “I’ll see what I can manage.”

10

January 1, 2458

Solar System

Earth

Jessica followed Stosur up the circular staircase that led into Davis’s almost mythical office atop Atlantis, immediately seeing the iconic 360 degree wraparound window that showed the setting sun just nipping at the ocean off to the west. At the top step she paused slightly, spinning around for the full view and seeing nothing but open floor space save for the single desk on the north end where the Star Force Director currently sat.

She followed Stosur over to him, where he motioned for them to sit down in two of the small chairs opposite him.

“I must say, I am pleasantly surprised,” Davis began, looking out at the pair over his crisscrossed fingers as he set his elbows on his desktop, forming a rough triangle. “At the outset I didn’t think any nation would be able to complete all 5 five rounds.”

“Is that confirmation?” Stosur asked. “You had mentioned other factors being in play earlier.”

“So I did, and yes it is.”

The Australian emissary smiled, glancing over his shoulder at Jessica who returned the smirk.

“Where do we go from here?”

Davis tapped one of his fingers against the others. “Your work isn’t over just yet. In fact, it’s just beginning…assuming you’re willing to stay on.”

Stosur frowned. “For what, exactly?”

“As Australia’s leader.”

“The Regents are the ones in control. I was just a stand in.”

Davis shook his head. “No. Australia may still hold to a measure of democracy, but there must be a single individual through which I will work.”

“I thought they were sovereign now,” Jessica pointed out.

“They are,” Davis confirmed, “but that doesn’t mean they can do whatever they want. It means they’re a part of the team who can add their own flair to the mix, for better or worse. While I’ll be keeping tabs on Australia, and step in if things start to get out of control, your nation will police and manage itself with your interactions with me occurring through one and only one individual, and that person can’t be a messenger. It has to be the leader.”

“And if they don’t want a single leader?” Jessica asked.

“Then they don’t get their sovereignty,” Davis said flatly.

“It’s not sovereignty if there are restrictions,” Jessica argued while Stosur simply looked on.

“You don’t have the freedom to screw up or be stupid. Sovereignty isn’t about privilege, it’s about responsibility…and I have neither the time nor the inclination to babysit incompetent nations any further. Australia has earned a measure of peerdom along with Canderous, the Clans, the Kiritas, and the Calavari, but in truth you don’t belong in that group. You are a child that has a lot of growing up to do, which is why I need a single leader to deal with as you make strides to close the gap.”

“I’m willing,” Stosur offered.

“It’s done then. You now command Australia, and how you deal with the Regents is your own concern. Keep them, replace them…I will not interfere. That’s an internal Australia matter to deal with, so long as you don’t start taking the nation backwards.”

“As for you,” Davis said, looking at Jessica. “Why are you here?”

“She’s as much responsible for our success as I am,” Stosur said defensively. “I asked her to come along.”

“And is she staying with you?” Davis asked, though still staring at Jessica, which made her feel very uncomfortable. Attractive as he was, there was a look of raw power behind his eyes that made her feel very unsettled, especially with the cold tone in his voice.

“We’d be honored to keep her with us, but her contract expired this morning,” Stosur said, looking over at her.

“I haven’t made any plans.”

“So you’re here as a spectator?” Davis asked.

“I suppose you could call me that.”

“Should I not have brought her?” Stosur asked, steering the conversation back to himself.

“I’m curious as to why you did. The invitation was just for you.”

“We’ve been working so closely together that it just seemed natural…and given that she was already an emissary I didn’t think it would be an issue.”

“It’s not,” Davis said, dismissing any sense of misgivings. “I’m merely curious as to how you plan to move forward…and yet she doesn’t seem to have decided.”

“A day ago the round was still live,” she reminded him.

“A lot can happen in a day,” he said, turning his attention back to Stosur. “You’ve succeeded in earning your place at the big table, but you’re going to have to keep improving and upgrading your nation in order to stay there. To facilitate that purpose I’m reopening full access to the Star Force markets and returning the resources and credits we syphoned off from you over the past year. It is your responsibility to see to it that Australia doesn’t become dependent on the markets.”

“Furthermore, as now a full part of Star Force our weapons tech will become available to you, but it is only for the purpose of your security forces. You will not share it with others, and you will not permit it to be leaked or stolen as you build a properly equipped military to supplement Star Force’s fleet in the defense of your territories here and elsewhere. A police force is not sufficient. You must become a war-capable nation like the others.”

“Understood,” Stosur said, matching the steel in Davis’ voice as he sensed the importance of what the man was saying.

“Your economy is still weak, as is your industrial and shipbuilding base. You must strengthen them and all other aspects of Australia. Do not depend upon private industry for anything. Allow it to exist and use it in the interim, but you have to transition all necessities over to government production, leaving only luxuries for the private markets, along with redundant production if they wish. Your economy will stay linked and open with the rest of Star Force, which is different from the others. Use this to your advantage, but waste the opportunity for growth that I’m giving you and I’ll rescind your sovereignty.”

“You are far behind where you need to be,” Davis said bluntly. “Maintaining the status quo isn’t enough. You have to grow and grow fast, which is why I’m letting you keep permanent access to the markets and private industry, both in your nation and throughout Star Force’s colonies. The Clans and Canderous will still keep their economies private, but under certain necessary or emergency conditions trading with them is permitted. You won’t have contact with the Kiritas or Calavari in the foreseeable future.”

“What exactly do you envision us becoming?”

“Someone I don’t have to keep looking over their shoulder to stay on task.”

“What can we do to help the war effort?” Stosur asked more directly.

“Keep yourself from becoming a liability,” Davis said, ticking that item off on his thumb. “Protect your own territories so we won’t have to devote ships to them, become an exporter of resources and tech that can feed the line troops, Canderous, or the Clans on the frontier while being safely within our protected zones, increase your population as much as you can support, and begin colonizing new territories as I make them available to you,” he finished on his pinky finger.

Stosur nodded. “You want us to step up to the plate as much as we can.”

“As little as that will be in the overall picture, yes. I want you to become an asset to Star Force.”

“Then that is what we shall become,” he said confidently.

“Make it happen, Regents or no,” Davis said with a nod. “Now, what about you?”

“What about me?” Jessica asked.

“Are you planning to stay with Australia, return to New Zealand, or work for me?”

Jessica raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize that third option was on the table.”

“It is as of now. I know how integral you were in keeping New Zealand in play for as long as you did, and despite that failure you proved yourself adept and useful, then used those skills again to assist Australia who, despite several useful talents, tends to have a hard time thinking outside the box…especially the Regents.”

“Point taken,” Stosur admitted.

“And what would I be doing for you?” Jessica asked.

“Star Force has differing methods, as well as different resource opportunities that you’ve not had available. We’re starting up new colonies in other systems, and if you wish, I’ll appoint you to head up one.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How big and in what system?”

“A full planetoid and several options, all of which are a considerable distance from here.”

“Frontier?”

“No, edge of the Core Region.”

“The frontier inside the frontier?” she asked.

Davis responded by activating his desk’s holoprojector and giving them a glimpse at the master map of all of Star Force. He zoomed in to show the Core Region where nearly all of Humanity resided, with seven systems around the edge being highlighted.

“I’m expanding out into these systems, each of which has multiple planetoids tagged for habitation. Some are environmentally friendly, others are not. Canderous and the Clans are also taking part, but the bulk of the colonization will be regular Star Force colonies. If and when Australia gets itself in a strong enough position, they will also be given a planetoid or two to colonize…if there are any left by then.”

Stosur cracked a smile. “Challenge accepted.”

“Do I get to pick?” Jessica asked, only half sarcastic.

“You won’t be the first insystem. There will be a Duke present to oversee all system activities, based in another colony that will have a head start on yours, but it won’t be able to offer much in the way of help in the beginning, so you’ll have to make do with the cargo shipments as they come in and work towards setting up your own production infrastructure, with the ultimate goal of becoming self-sufficient.”

“You really should say ‘self-sustaining,’ so as not to confuse the meaning with biological self-sufficiency,” Jessica noted.

“You’re not the first to suggest that.”

Jessica chewed on her lower lip for a moment as she thought quickly. “Will I become a member of Star Force or will this be contract work?”

“A member.”

“What level?”

“6.”

“So no pay then?”

“Is that a problem?”

“Depends how long I will be there.”

“Indefinitely. Several decades at minimum.”

“And how long do I have to decide?”

Davis glanced down at his wristwatch/communicator. “Say about 5 minutes.”

“5 minutes?!”

“If it’s something you have to think through, then you’re not the person for the job. You’ll be building everything from scratch, making it up as you go, so the only thing to consider is whether you want to accept the challenge…or not. That shouldn’t take more than 30 seconds.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Davis echoed, watching her closely.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, thinking hard about various possibilities…then she took the Director’s suggestion and just let all the details wash from her head and look at the offer from a fresh perspective.

“An entire planet?”

“Or moon. It wouldn’t be shared, with all the territory and resources yours for the consumption.”

“You really think I’m qualified for that?”

“Everyone has to take a leap at some point, and you’ve shown me enough skill and improvisation over the past years to make me willing to trust you on this.”

“Coming from someone so methodical that sounds almost reckless.”

“Risk is our business,” Davis said, using one of the Archons’ favorite quotes from Captain Kirk.

“What would my title be?”

“Baron.”

“A level 6 Baron?”

“No newb is going straight to level 7,” Davis said with an incredulous look.

“A what?”

“Newb means rookie.”

“She’s not exactly a rookie,” Stosur chimed in.

“She is as far as Star Force is concerned,” Davis explained. “She has to learn our methods and procedures. As it is, no one from the outside has ever been appointed Baron, and I’m only doing it because I think she’s quick enough to handle the learning curve without it being a detriment to the colony.”

“That doesn’t exist yet?” Jessica asked.

“Not a single ship has landed, other than survey teams.”

“And you don’t even know the location?”

“We can choose now, if you’re onboard?”

Jessica sighed. “As far as presents go, no man has ever given me an entire planet…or moon…before. I don’t see how a girl can say no to that.”

“Then let’s pick out one, shall we?” Davis said, pulling up the seven systems’ individual maps side by side. “The blue ones are where we currently have startup colonies. The green are your potentials.”

Jessica saw there were many, from 2 possibilities in the Therion System to some 12 in Nirrel.

“Which are Earth-type habitable?”

“8 are marginal, with only 2 similar to Earth conditions,” Davis said, bringing up the two planets, one in Nirrel and the other in Merkle. The one in Merkle was a heavy grav world, marked as 2.3g, which made it an absolute monster that would require artificial gravity to make it habitable, meaning one couldn’t go walking around the countryside, but they could have exposed city tops and open air parks so long as the inertial dampening fields covered them.

The other was the reverse, being a small moon with a gravity of .45g. That would also require artificial gravity to make it habitable, otherwise her population would grow weak from muscle atrophy…but they could roam the countryside freely and live without worry of being crushed should the AG fail.

“I’ll leave the big one to your people, but that moon looks right about my size,” she joked, putting her ring finger up underneath it as if it were a gem.

“That one doesn’t have a name yet,” Davis told her as he brought the small icon up to full size, showing her the moon. “Care to do the honors?”

Jessica looked at the sparse lakes and thick forests, up through which rose several steep mountain chains, with her imagination quickly running back to a childhood story of a magical planet inhabited by elves and dragons.

“I think I’ll call it Adria.”

“Adria it is then,” Davis said, inputting the name onto the map, with the update immediately going out across the comm network to every other linked map, eventually making it all the way out to Namek some weeks later, along with several other small updates, messages, and news packets. One of those packets was a forward from the Alliance relay system, having gone through Epsilon Eridani and then shuffled out through the Alpha Region interstellar relay network to the lizard frontier where Paul was still stationed.

Activity along the border had been up and down over the years, with every lizard push having been thwarted by a Star Force counterattack, along with the Humans managing to take a few lizard systems here and there, but the boundary line remained much the same, for Paul didn’t want to extend it too far past Namek and the other strongholds he was setting up against the eventual lizard onslaught that Kara had warned them about.

In between Namek and the Core Region was the vast Alpha Region, the outermost third of which Paul was dotting with new colonies and bases, thickening their band of resistance against the lizards and allowing for reinforcement options they previously didn’t have given the remoteness of the area. Every year that passed Paul, considered to be one of Star Force’s ‘master builders,’ metaphorically dug in deeper, extending their ‘wall’ against the lizards in 5 directions…up, down, left, right, and backward in the hopes of blocking the enemy’s advance, given that the galactic plane was so thick that there was a mass of star systems above and below them.

Those systems were an inroad for the lizards, so Paul was stretching out Star Force’s reach further into them, blocking tendrils of lizard territory that were poking in that direction and forming a massive ‘shield’ around the end of Alpha Region. That barrier, as it was, couldn’t stop the lizards from moving through, for space was vast and a jumpship only stopping in a system for a redirect was hard to detect, let alone intercept and stop before it made its next jump out.

The key was, Paul knew, to make the lizard supply lines so long that any assault force they sent past the Namek area was doomed to fail, either in the initial invasion of whatever system or world they chose, or in the quickly ensuing counterattack that Star Force was gearing all of their systems up for with dedicated fleets strategically positioned for just that type of mission should the need arise.

They didn’t have nearly enough yet in Alpha Region to establish a proper defensive line, but Paul was working on it, even as he monitored the events on the Calavari front, and kept updated with news from the other regions, including Davis’s long overdue annexation of Earth.

One of the message packets that came through with the map update got the attention of one of the Archons on Namek immediately, who took it via datapad all the way into the sanctum where Paul was running his pace laps and all the way out onto the track, handing it to him as the Archons ran side by side for a few steps.

Paul kept running until he saw the contents, then gave the acolyte a telepathic reassurance that he had been right to interrupt his workout. The ranger coasted to a stop and hopped off to the inside of the track where he read through the full Alliance report detailing activity on the lizard border of Calavari space.

5 star systems had fallen in the past three months, with another 8 currently under assault, all of which formed a short knife blade into the gut of Calavari territory, despite the Kvash fleets that had been positioned in that area. They’d been run off due to overwhelming lizard numbers, and the lightly defended Calavari worlds had seen their defenses obliterated before they had the chance to evacuate more than a handful ships, barely enough to get the word out as the lizards hit the local relays, beginning to sever links in the Alliance’s communication chain and split the Kvash and Bsidd off from the Hycre and Star Force.

Paul stared at the little knife blade of quickly captured systems, seeing a great deal more vulnerable worlds around them that the Calavari wouldn’t have a hope of defending with their fleets having been drawn away to fight the Nestafar…and even if they had been there, the outcome would have been the same, though somewhat delayed, for the lizards were finally coming for them in force, now that their treasonous ally had finally weakened them near to the breaking point.

“It’s starting,” Paul said to the acolyte as he handed him the datapad and stepped back onto the track just in time to catch his pacing marker as it came around for another lap. He took off running again and locked into its speed, with his mind going strategic and sifting through the various implications, all of which led to one conclusion.

The Calavari empire was doomed.

Commando

1

May 22, 2458

Solar System

Earth

Rio Jakson sat atop one of hundreds of short skyscrapers in Riverside, California with his back resting against a monument pedestal dedicated to someone who did something a long time ago with no real significance. The letters were mostly worn off, and in truth no one cared about the small monument, but it did make for a good spot to sit on the rooftop garden/park and look out over the city, for all of the buildings were bumping up against the mandatory height restrictions, meaning there was nothing taller in this area to obscure your view of the sky.

The 17 year old sat a few meters from the clear fence that surrounded the pentagon-shaped building that was both his home, school, grocery store, fitness center, and all around prison. It had been designed to give the residents just about everything they needed indoors in an attempt to diminish the amount of traffic that plagued the area, and to Rio that meant he was virtually a prisoner, for security wouldn’t let the ‘children’ outside the building without their parents’ permission.

The open air up top was his only reprieve from the claustrophobia inside the building. His parents weren’t rich, nor were they poor, but land space was at such a premium that every building in the U.S. was designed to maximize internal space…or at least every building in the metropolitan areas, which in California’s case covered pretty much the entire state.

He, like many other teenagers, tried to push the boundaries of the residential complex, and had found that this roof was the best option they had, and as such it was usually crowded. This particular spot along the edge Rio favored because it was away from all the recreation areas, giving him a more or less peaceful spot to relax, though he could still hear the sounds of a pickup volleyball game going on behind him in the ‘sand box’ that covered the central portion of the roof.

“Hey,” Nadia said, coming up from behind Rio on his left and dropping a long, flexible tube in a wrapper in his lap as she sat down next to him and scrunched up against his bare arm despite the oppressive heat that was only now just beginning to cool with a stiff breeze.

“Hey,” Rio answered his girlfriend back as he tore open the sugar stick, pulled it out and split it in two, giving her the bottom half that contained the cherry and grape flavoring that she liked, while he kept the lime and strawberry sections for himself as he got a whiff of her marine-scented perfume as she turned her head and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before gnawing into her half of the foodstuff.

“They sure aren’t wasting any time,” she commented, gesturing to the half-constructed tower in the distance that had already risen above the height restrictions of the other buildings. It was several miles away, but it was so large that it was impossible to miss and dominated the local skyline.

“Star Force doesn’t mess around,” Rio commented, drawing a look from Nadia.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, poking him in the chest for emphasis.

Rio sighed. “How do you always know?”

“I can hear it in your voice…now spill.”

“You’re not going to like it,” he warned her.

“Now you have to tell me,” she said, scooting away just enough that she could turn and face him. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s what’s wrong,” Rio said, pointing out into the city.

“The tower?”

“No, everything else,” Rio said with disgust. “Everyone here, they’re going nowhere. Doing nothing. Hell, half the people in this building haven’t gone outside it in years. They just sit here stagnating, and for what?”

“We all get spooked, Rio. This isn’t your first time. I nearly had a panic attack three weeks ago in the hall outside the locker room. We manage it and move on, like always.”

“Move on to where exactly?” he asked with a touch of anger in his voice.

Nadia gave him an incredulous look. “Move on, move on. What do you think I mean?”

“I think you don’t know what you mean.”

“Now you better explain what you mean…”

“Or what, you won’t talk to me for three days? Then we make up and continue on…doing what? What is anyone around here doing?”

“Everyone is adjusting to the Star Force takeover. Things aren’t going to be the same anymore,” she said, gesturing with her hand towards the tower under construction, one of many popping up across California to house the transitional personnel that were already reworking the local infrastructure and social systems…including the schools, though those efforts hadn’t reached their building yet.

Rio shook his head. “Good riddance, but what is anyone going to be doing here?”

“Not having to work for a living, that’s what,” Nadia said like Rio had lost his mind and forgotten how to count to 3. “No more crap jobs just to get by. Everyone gets a place to live and food to eat, no money required. We don’t have to worry about where we go after we graduate…at least, not once they get done with things. Is that what’s bothering you? You’ve got another year before then.”

“But even then, what do I do? Live rent free, worry free…and then what?”

“Marry me…if I’m not already taken,” she joked, wrapping her right arm through his while she bit off the end of her sugar stick.

“And just live out our lives together doing…nothing?”

“Marriage isn’t nothing.”

“It isn’t something either. It’s a status, not an activity. Not a life.”

“I didn’t think you thought so little of me,” she said, knowing he wasn’t serious.

“But that’s just it,” he said, finally turning to look her in the dark green iris implants she’d gotten two years ago. “You’re a person, not a piece of property to acquire. Don’t you want to do anything with your life? Once Star Force gets through remodeling here, whenever that will be, we won’t have to worry about scraping by and working to live. So what do you want to do when that happens…sit around and watch vids all day?”

“Something is really eating you. No more being evasive. What is it? Just tell me.”

Rio leaned back, putting his head against the stone of the monument and looking out over the tops of all the other residential buildings with people just like him, looking ahead to normal, boring lives. Then there was the Star Force tower, rising further above them by the day as its frantic construction continued.

“I want to make something of myself, not spend my life just…living. I want to do something that matters.”

“You still want to go to law school?”

Rio frowned at her. “That was a long time ago. Besides, with Star Force in charge there’s no need for lawyers. Their civilian legal code is only 5 pages long. You can practically memorize it in a day.”

“I think that’s the point.”

“What?”

“That you can memorize it. That way you know the laws.”

“Novel idea there. Wish we’d thought of that.”

“But don’t they more complicated rules…for business or something?”

“Yeah, they do.”

“So?”

“I don’t want to be a lawyer, or whatever the new version is.”

“Then what do you want to be?”

“A man.”

Nadia squeezed his arm. “Well, I haven’t done a full body inspection yet, but I think you’re already there.”

“Sexuality can have a strong influence on the weak minded.”

“What?”

“It’s a quote.”

“From what?”

“Star Force.”

“Meaning what, exactly?”

“It means ordinary people get caught up in relationships, and those relationships form the basis of their entire world.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t consider you to be a bad thing. Are you saying that I am?”

“I can’t define you,” Rio insisted as he stared out over the city, wanting her to understand. “You’re your own person. So am I. The question is, what do you want to do with your life, not who you want to be with.”

“What should I want?” Nadia asked skeptically.

“To be better than everyone else.”

“What’s wrong with everyone else?”

Rio turned to look at her again. “What’s wrong?!”

“Yes. What’s wrong with everybody else? Why aren’t they good enough for you? Why am I not good enough?”

Rio shook his head. “You’re missing the point.”

“No, it’s coming through real clear. You think you’re too good for us,” Nadia said, thumbing back towards the others on the rooftop park.

“No I’m not…but I want to be. Someday.”

“You’re not making any sense, Rio.”

“I can’t say here, Nadia. I have to get away. This place, these people…they’re killing me.”

She ran a finger down his chest. “You look fine to me.”

“On the inside. I feel hollow. Empty.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t. You’re the one thing that makes this place bearable.”

“Well that’s better, but I still don’t get what you’re trying to tell me.”

Rio closed his eyes and lowered his head, knowing there was no way to break this easy to her.

“I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Where exactly do you think you’re going?”

“I passed, Nadia.”

“Passed what?”

“The recruitment test.”

Nadia stiffened. “What test?”

“Remember when my uncle came over a few weeks ago?”

“Yeah.”

“He didn’t take me water skiing. Well, he did, but while he rounded up some of his friends he dropped me off downtown and I went to the recruitment center.”

“What recruitment center?” Nadia asked with no small amount of anger in her voice.

“Star Force. I passed the entrance exams on the first try. I was only missing the PT test.”

“That’s why you’ve been doing all that extra running?”

Rio nodded. “I needed a 5:15 mile. Yesterday I ran a 5:14 on vid and sent the file to them. I got a confirmation message this morning. I’ve qualified for Regular recruitment.”

“Regular what?”

“A Regular. The Regulars.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about fighting the lizards,” he blurted out.

Though he couldn’t see it, for he wasn’t looking at her, Nadia’s face scrunched up into a look of total revulsion.

“Military! Star Force is bad enough, but military? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“It’s what I want,” Rio said simply.

“What you want? What about me? What about our life together? Our marriage? Our children?”

“I don’t want children. I don’t want a marriage, a normal life. I want to be someone,” he said, turning to face her. “I want my life to matter.”

Nadia pushed him away. “So I don’t matter?”

“You do matter to me. A lot. Which is why I want you to come with me.”

“Now I know you’re out of your mind.”

“Your science scores are high enough for a tech recruitment, I’d wager.”

“I don’t want to join Star Force. I want to stay here, see what changes Star Force makes and how they affect our lives. If what they claim is even half true, it should be a golden age for all of us ‘normal’ people. I want to raise children in that…maybe not here, in this building, but one like it.”

“Is that all you want? Just to be a mother?”

“You make it sound like it’s not important.”

“It’s still you defining yourself through other people. Who do you want to be, Nadia? You…nobody else. Just you.”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you. Am I suddenly no longer good enough for you?”

“I have to be man, Nadia.”

“Be my man,” she insisted.

“I can’t be your man before I become a man…and I can’t become a man if I stay here, get married, have kids, and do nothing with my life. Everyone does that. Everyone has kids. Billions upon billions of people. It may be important but it’s not special, and it doesn’t require any skill. You just hump and let nature take its course. You know that better than most people with your parents.”

“My parents suck, which is exactly why I don’t want to be that way with my kids.”

“Why do you need kids? Why can’t you just be enough as yourself?”

“I want kids, Rio. It’s not about them defining me. I want to be a mother and do things right where my parents obviously didn’t. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“No, that’s just your imagination. I want you…not the other stuff.”

“Stuff? You have no idea how insulting you’re being right now.”

Rio sat up and pointed at the Star Force tower.

“They are the only reason people get the chance to have families. Out there they’re fighting aliens to keep them away from Earth. Without them we’re all dead. Protecting Earth is more important than being a parent.”

“There are plenty of soldiers, Rio. Let someone else do it. You don’t have anything to prove to me.”

“It’s not about you. I guess I need to prove it to myself.”

“Prove what?”

“That I’m a man…and a better one than the average guy. I’m not now, but I want to be. I can feel the potential to be something…more. But I can’t do it here. This place, it eats away at that potential, and I’m afraid if I stay any longer it’s going to destroy it. I have to leave this place before it kills me, Nadia. I need you to understand that.”

“And you want to take me with you?”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then don’t leave.”

“I have to. I know that now, clearer than I’ve ever known anything else. I’ve earned my slot. It’s my chance and I’m not going to pass it up.”

“So you’re going to just leave me here?”

“Come with me and make a life for yourself. You can have children later if you really want. There’s no rush.”

Nadia crossed her arms over her chest. “Spoken like a typical male.”

“Meaning what?”

“A girl can’t wait. It’s biological. It’s literally in our DNA.”

“What about that woman on the news who gave birth at 93?”

“Star Force’s freaky medicine.”

“Self-sufficiency isn’t medicine…or freaky.”

“Yes it is. It’s unnatural.”

“You don’t want to live forever?”

“Nobody lives forever, Rio.”

“Don’t you want to try?”

“No. I want my husband and my children and that normal life you seem to hate.”

“With a passion,” he emphasized.

“Enough of this,” Nadia said, standing up. “Get your head on straight and I’ll talk to you in the morning. Hopefully with a good night’s sleep you’ll wake up sane.”

“I’m not joking, Nadia,” Rio said as she started to walk away. “I can leave now if I want. You’re the only reason I’m not gone already.”

She turned around. “So you want to convince me to come with you. What makes you think we’ll even be allowed to stay together? Damn it, Rio, I’m only 16.”

“Star Force doesn’t care about your age, only your abilities.”

“If you go off to war then where will I be?”

“We may be apart from each other, but we’ll both be gaining experience and rank, and who knows what else. We can become better people and hook up again down the road. If we attain self-sufficiency there’s no rush. Why can’t we be individuals first, couple second?”

“It’s one or the other, Mr. Jakson.”

Rio sighed. “I’m sorry, Nadia. I knew this would be hard on you, but I’m not giving up on you. I don’t have to be with you physically to love you. I can be halfway across the galaxy and still yours, married or not. I have to do this, but it doesn’t mean we have to split up.”

Nadia gulped. “So you are serious. You’re choosing Star Force over me?”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Rio said, standing up and looking into those green eyes he’d grown overly fond of.

“Yes it does,” she insisted. “I’m willing to make you my entire life. If you’re not willing to do the same, then there is no other option. You can have your Star Force career or you can have me. Not both.”

“I’m sorry then,” he said, trying not to get choked up. “This is something I have to do, or I’ll never be happy. I want you. I need you. But I need more than you. I need to be a man before I can be a husband, and I can’t do that here.”

Nadia shook her head. “If you go, I’m not waiting for you.”

Rio clenched his teeth together to help hold back the emotions swirling inside of him. He’d worked through this conversation beforehand in his head, already having made his decisions so he wouldn’t lose his nerve. He just hadn’t known how she’d respond, but this eventuality wasn’t hard to imagine, so he’d prepared himself for it.

“I love you, but I have to go. If you can’t work with a long distance relationship, and you need someone physically with you day in and day out…then that person isn’t going to be me.”

Nadia’s jaw dropped, then she took a step towards Rio and slapped him across the face…hard.

He couldn’t hold back the tears, but Nadia didn’t stick around to see them. She walked off in a huff, leaving Rio alone on the edge of the roof park.

He turned around and walked to the clear fence and stood a few inches away from it, staring out across the other rooftops and the sea of people they contained. His eyes went straight to the Star Force tower, now with another piece sticking out of the top that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago.

That was it. He’d just done it. Maybe she’d have second thoughts tomorrow, try and convince him to stay, but he knew that she wasn’t coming with him. She was afraid to leave…or maybe she actually wanted to stay. Rio couldn’t understand that, for every fiber of his being wanted to be away from here, and if she truly wanted the family life, then it was best that they part ways now, before they made each other miserable down the road.

That’s what his head told him, or rather had told him a few hours ago. Right now his emotions were running wild and he was following the instructions he’d told himself to follow in case this happened, in case he got emotional again, so that Nadia couldn’t use it to twist him around like she had so many times in the past. He didn’t mind so much before, but this was important…and he had to make his own decisions.

Like he’d planned, he knew he had to leave now before Nadia, his parents, or anyone else could get to him. He wasn’t in a mood to argue, and was afraid if that was what happened he’d cave. He was weak like that, which was one of the things he didn’t like about himself. That meant now was go time, and he had to head off his weakness before it caught up with him.

That meant calling his uncle and having him come and pick him up. He knew better than to tell his parents, but couldn’t just walk out on them. His uncle would explain things afterwards, so that way they’d know where he was and that he was alright, but they weren’t going to like his not graduating high school one bit, not even to join Star Force, which was much harder to accomplish.

Rio glanced over his shoulder at the others playing games in the park, realizing he had a moment of opportunity that was going to vanish fast. Nadia was upset, and soon word would get around, meaning he had to go now. Pulling out his communicator he searched for and found his uncle’s contact ID and sent him a preplanned message, which he got a reply for immediately, along with a timestamp indicating that his uncle would be here to pick him up within 2 hours.

Rio was already packed, which amounted to little more than a backpack, based off the fact that Star Force had said he wouldn’t need anything once he reached the recruitment center, but he had a few keepsakes he wanted to bring with him…along with his favorite shirt.

“Here goes,” he said, turning away from the sunny cityscape and walking slowly away across the large park, feeling his anxiety spike. This was the moment. The moment where his life was going to radically change, and now that it was here he welcomed it. He was a nervous, emotional mess, with a hole in his heart the size of a starship, but this was what he needed to do and he knew it. Now that he’d called his uncle there was no going back.

Rio walked through the park, found the down elevator, and returned to his family’s quarters. He grabbed his small satchel, swung it over his shoulders and quietly walked out, intending to hide elsewhere in the building until his uncle arrived so no one would have a chance to talk him out of it.

Two hours later, as promised, his uncle showed up and got him through the underage security measures at the building’s entrance. From there they walked to a nearby transit terminal and hired a transport car to take them off, with his uncle returning several hours later to explain to his brother and sister-in-law what their son had done.

2

May 27, 2458

Solar System

Mars

“Welcome to introduction, cadets. I am Trainer Henderson, and I am tasked with determining which of you passes basic training and which of you wash out,” the tall, thin, muscular man said wearing a pure white uniform as he paced back and forth across a platform set before a wall-spanning open ‘window’ that looked out onto the training grounds which, since they were on Mars, were all indoors.

“Yours will be individual training, allowing you to progress at your own rates. The only way one of you washes out is if you choose to leave. If you cannot pass the graduation trials, then you will remain here in perpetual training until you do. Those sitting beside you are your induction class, but whether or not you remain together is determined by how far each of you advances and in how timely a manner you do so.”

Rio glanced to his left, seeing two men considerably older than him sitting on the narrow bench beside him. They were probably at least twice his age, and about half of those sitting in front of him looked to be at least 30. He sat in the back row of 5 benches, just trying to listen and go along with the flow, feeling very out of place, for he was by far the youngest of them all, including the 4 girls out of the 48 member group, all of whom looked to have been post-college in age.

“Today you get your first taste of training, which will be based on the scores you entered with. There will be a lot of running…and by a lot I mean a lot. Running is the foundation of a commando, for if you can’t move around the battlefield you’re little more than a living turret, and if we need turrets we’ll just build them. We need you to be commandos, meaning you’re mobile, accurate, intelligent, and possessing a strength no normal Human can match.”

“Commandos are Regulars, and Regulars serve the Archons, assist the Knights. You are not cannon fodder, but rather one man armies capable of undertaking difficult tasks solo or combining your skills in group missions. You must learn to do both in your training, during which you will be subjected to multiple challenges to probe your weaknesses. Learn from them. Don’t fear failure. Analyze and adapt. If and when you achieve full commando status, you will know that the most important lesson to take with you from this training facility is to stay alive. Die in battle, and you will be of no further use in the war. We need you to become warriors, not the expendable commodities you’ve seen in vids.”

“How much you know of the lizards I cannot say, but I can tell you that you don’t know much. The lizards outnumber us so greatly we can’t even count them all. If we trade lives, one for one, one for five, one for ten…they win by default. The only way we prevail is by being better than them, which means our troops walk away at the end of the battle able to fight in the next one. Death is failure, even if you take a million enemies with you.”

“That means sometimes you have to run away to live and fight another day. It’s a cliché, but one you need to remember. When to run and when to fight is something that we will endeavor to teach you here, but there is not a rule book written that can take into account every possible scenario. You will have to make the call in the moment, and the best way to help you prepare for that is by throwing you into a plethora of learning experiences here, so be prepared to run the gauntlet. The more we hit you with here, the less surprises there will be out there,” the trainer said, pointing up at the high ceiling, indicating the stars beyond where the war was ongoing.

“Now, don’t concern yourself with tomorrow. We don’t send rookies out to the front lines. Only our best get combat assignments…unless the enemy ends up on our doorstep. If that happens here, you might as well kiss your asses goodbye. If the lizards reach Sol, then we’ve already lost and it’s up to us to make their victory as messy as possible. Our victory comes in keeping the enemy busy on the frontier while Star Force grows stronger, which is what you are doing here…becoming stronger, wiser, faster, sharper.”

“If and when you graduate, you will leave this facility to pursue even more training, one day rising in ability enough to get a field assignment. By then you will be ready, now you are not, and my advice to you is not to be thinking ahead to the war. Live in the  moment, for this training, while modulated to each of your individual skill levels, is going to be more of a challenge than you’ve ever faced before, and it will require your full attention. Anything less, and get used to receiving failure notices.”

“Now, this is where it begins. When you go through that door,” he said, pointing to his left and Rio’s right, “you listen, you learn, you obey…and grab on with two hands to the greatest challenge of your life to this point, for there is no turning back or slowing down. If you wash out, it will not be an instantaneous thing. There is a procedure to follow, to ensure that you’re not making a rash decision, for if you do decide to leave, there’s no coming back for a second try. Not with the commandos anyway, though you might have a chance with the mechwarriors or pilots.”

“We learn to get things done the first time by never stopping our efforts and always working the problem. Surrender isn’t in our vocabulary, nor is it something the lizards will allow. They’re out to kill us all, so get used to the idea of having to find a way to win or survive to win another day. Second place in this conflict means you’re dead.”

“That said, we are not our enemy, and we do not always kill our enemy. Each mission varies, and we will allow the enemy to surrender when we can. That is also something you will have to learn. Many wars are fought between bad guys. Being the good guy means we fight differently, so get used to that difference. If our enemy were as honorable as us we wouldn’t be fighting them, so expect your opponent to use different tactics and tricks, and be alert for them.”

“And make no mistake, this war is not some misunderstanding or diplomatic snafu. The lizards want to rule the galaxy, which in their definition is to kill or enslave all others…and guess which one they’ve tagged Humans for. That’s right…kill. They will kill you on the spot, sometimes blowing themselves up in the process. They are dishonorable scum that you will not emulate. You will defeat them and their methods, not become them.”

“Star Force is part of an alliance with other enemies of the lizards, one of which is called the Nestafar…or perhaps I should say was, because they betrayed the Alliance and joined with the lizards. You may end up fighting them one day, or one of hundreds of other races we’ve come into contact with. Each of them is a person, like you, and you will treat them accordingly. Some you might even be fighting alongside, like the Calavari, and if you have enough prolonged experience you will come to realize that they are just like us…only different, and those differences you will need to learn. There are good and bad people in every race, so see the individual, not the species.”

“That is why we give our enemies the chance to surrender, but when they’re out for our heads the proper response is to kill them first, and do it quickly. Torture we do not tolerate, and as commandos you will have the most up close contact with the enemy, who does use bladed weapons as well as plasma. There will be blood, gore, and nastiness that you probably can’t even imagine. Through it all you must remain true to who you are and true to Star Force. To quote an Archon, ‘you must not turn to the dark side, no matter how dire your situation.’”

“So, let’s recap,” Henderson said, clapping his hands together as he finally stopped pacing. “Hardest challenge of your life so far…learning a lot of things I’ve mentioned that you currently have no clue about…always be the good guy…never expect the enemy to…neither hate nor trust the aliens, they’re people like you…gotta go superhuman in order to beat the lizards…and oh, yes, one more thing. Don’t ever call an Archon ‘sir.’ They take it as a sign of disrespect.”

“So,” he said, pulling his arms behind his back and standing up. “You have two doors. One door starts your training, the other door takes you back to civilian life and your chance to become a Regular isn’t wasted…in so much as you can always have a change of heart and come back and give it a try, so long as you test out again. Once you go through that door it’s make or break, so make your choice. My task here is done.”

With a smile the trainer stepped backward towards the edge of the platform and in a blur of motion did a backflip over the railing and fell out of sight, leaving the 48 recruits alone to make their choice.

Rio stood up with the rest of the group, but held his place as some of them ran up to the edge to look down on where the trainer had gone too. The 17 year old massaged the sides of his grey pant legs as he watched the others, not wanting to make a move towards the door before anyone else did. There was a bit of chatter between some of the men, but there was a sense of wary silence as the first of them walked over and opened up the door with a press of a button.

It vanished into the wall revealing a tiny compartment large enough for only one person. Rio couldn’t see from his position, but suddenly the person that was there a moment before no longer was, drawing a bit more talk from those nearby. Slowly the crowd moved up, with others disappearing, until Rio finally got a clear line of sight to see that the door would close over the person at the touch of an interior button, then open again with the person having disappeared.

Rio waited at the back until there were only a handful left, including three standing along the platform railing and looking out over the very active training grounds.

“How old are you?” one of the two men asked.

“Me?” Rio said in a small voice, then coughing to cover his nerves when the man nodded. “I’ll be 18 in three months.”

“That means 17,” the girl corrected.

“And you passed the PT test?” the man asked again.

“Yes,” Rio said as the last of those behind him disappeared through the door, leaving only the four of them behind.

“What do they want children for?” the second man asked the first.

He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

“Do you know each other?” Rio asked, prying his eyes off the hundreds, if not thousands, of people moving across the training fields like an army of ants, and taking a glance back at the door that stood invitingly open. The other one that they’d entered through had never been shut, allowing them a visual line of retreat if they wanted.

“We’re ex-military, kid,” the girl answered. “Out of a job, now that the old armies were scrapped.”

“You coming or leaving?” the first man asked.

“I was going to go through last. Why are you waiting?”

“Just enjoying the view,” he said, cracking a touch of a smile through his goatee. “Name’s Raven. This is Styk and Julie. Formerly of the United States Ranger Corps.”

“Rio Jakson, from California.”

“Well now,” Styk said, immediately getting a bit more friendly, “another American…or should I say former American, now that they’re tearing the old girl up into bits and pieces.”

“You really going through with this, kid?” Julie asked.

“Yes.”

“Then get going. We’ll follow you through.”

Raven nodded at him to go, so Rio didn’t argue. He turned and walked over to the door and stepped inside the compartment and hit the button. The door slid shut behind him, then all of a sudden the floor dropped out and he began to fall…

He bounced off his arms and legs against a flexible tube as it curled and twisted underneath him, reminding him of a dry waterslide as he slid down very, very far before falling out through open air onto a pile of foam squares that gently dragged him to a halt in an alley set off a main street in some sort of city. Rio had landed face up, and found himself staring at pure blue sky…but that was impossible, for he was on Mars, not Earth.

Rio sat up…immediately falling back down as the foam resisted his movements. He tried again, eventually able to wiggle himself over to the far end of the foam field and get his feet onto the hard pavement and stand up. Neither Raven, Styk, nor Julie had come down yet…nor did he see anyone else around, so he walked out and looked into the street.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. There was a city, a huge city all around him with building after building going down as far as he could see in either direction, as well as some huge skyscrapers in the distance…not to mention the one behind him that the alley had been carved out of. It rose up so high he had trouble guessing its height, but there was more to worry about at the moment…like the fact that the streets were rubble strewn and deserted.

“What the…” he said, getting caught in the right arm by a small projectile. It smashed into goo, leaving his elbow numb and his head turning, trying to see where it had come from.

Something inside him told him not to wait, so even as he looked he ran across the street to the nearest set of doors he could see, causing another shot to miss him by inches.

The next thing he knew he was inside and climbing stairs as people were chasing him. He ran and ran, ducking into one deserted hallway after another, going up stairs, then down stairs, then up again trying to lose his pursuit. Eventually he ended up on a decorative ledge spanning a wide set of double doors, laying down behind some short potted plants that had long since withered and died.

In truth he didn’t know where he was or how he’d gotten there, but all Rio knew at the moment was that he needed to slow his breathing and hope to hell that they didn’t see him. He closed his eyes and concentrated, noticing that his left hand was shaking and he couldn’t stop it, so he tucked it underneath his butt as he lay on his back and tried to think of a calm ocean beach under blue skies, light years away from his current situation.

His eyes snapped open as he heard the faint rasps and clicks of armor as someone ran by underneath him…then another some 20 seconds later. Neither paused, and Rio was enormously grateful, despite the fact that his heart felt like it was clenched up into a diamond inside his chest.

He waited a long time before getting enough courage to slip an eye up over the edge of one of the pots and have a look. The hallway was big, bigger than he remembered. It must have been a main corridor within the building, but it was completely abandoned. He saw a desk tipped over and otherwise askew down a ways, remembering suddenly that he’d nearly tripped over it as he ran by after slipping on a puddle of water or some liquid that he couldn’t see.

Rio took a deep breath and tried to think back to what the trainer had told them, especially the part about living in the moment. This had to be a test, one where they didn’t get forewarning. But if it was a test what was he supposed to do?

Approaching footsteps from underneath prompted Rio to duck back down, but he silently scooted far enough that he could look around the dead stem of one of the plants and get a tiny peek at who was chasing him…only to see another grey uniform like his own flash by.

Rio popped his head up and saw the backside of a familiar red ponytail. Gathering his voice, which had gone hiding along with his body, he tried to make as low level a noise as he could.

“Psst, psst,” he said in a whispery mouth noise.

Julie immediately spun around, holding a small pistol in her left hand while her right hung limp beside her…much as Rio’s right forearm had been doing before, though his nervous jitters had seemed to bring it back to life sometime during the past minute or so.

“Kid?” she whispered as Rio sat up enough for her to see his face and torso.

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

“What happened to you?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the hallway, in both directions, as she walked back underneath the doorway so she could talk to him in as quiet a voice as possible.

“I don’t know. I got shot…and ran…then hid here.”

“Have you seen any of the enemy?”

“I heard two come by, but didn’t look up.”

“Did you hear which way they were going?” she asked, not expecting him to have the skill to differentiate the sounds but asking anyway.

“Underneath,” he said confidently.

Julie glued her eyes in that direction and held her pistol ready. “Get down from there. You’re coming with me.”

“Where?” Rio said, climbing quickly.

“Beats me. Stay quiet and two meters behind me at all times. I’ve only got a few shots left, and I don’t want to trip over you if we need to run.”

“Where did you get that?” Rio whispered, not knowing if she’d get mad at him for talking. She was a good inch taller than him and looked like she could snap him in two at will, despite being jaw-droppingly attractive.

“Knocked out the guy trying to shoot me. They’re wearing armor, but the stingers soak through. Let’s go.”

Julie walked under the ledge that Rio had been hiding on, with him locking his mouth shut and trying to stay exactly 2 meters behind her, just as she’d said, happy to have someone else to follow. Otherwise he would have stayed up in his hiding place for who knows how long.

3

May 29, 2458

Solar System

Mars

Rio woke with a start, finding a fingernail poking in the side of his neck as Julie woke him up as he had apparently dozed off in the lounge chair he’d been inhabiting for the hour or so since they’d finished with their last training session of the day…a short, but intense stair climbing run.

“What?” he asked groggily.

“Time to go to sleep,” she said with a grin, then pointed across the lounge to the exit that led to their individual quarters.

“What?” he asked again. They didn’t have curfew until 9 pm.

Rio glanced down at his watch and did a double take. He’d come into the lounge a little after 5 pm, and was dead sure he couldn’t have been in here more than 2 hours, tops, but his watch read 8:57.

“What the hell?” he asked, prying his body up out of the chair and finding himself quite stiff.

“Long nap?” she asked, nudging him on like a bossy sister.

“I guess so,” he said, still not sure how he could have lost track of that much time. He’d been watching the news vids with a lot of the other recruits after their official day was over, which was to be spent either in their quarters, the cafeteria, or the huge and well-furnished lounge that he was in now…which virtually everyone had been in, all 200 or so of them in Rio’s residential group. Now there was only a handful of people left.

“Next time sleep in your bunk,” Julie told him as they both headed for the distant door on the other end of a narrow, hard walkway that separated the vid screens/games half of the lounge from the assortment of other equipment and activities that made up the other half, beyond which was the staircase that led down four levels to the cafeteria that they shared with 7 other residential groups.

“I can’t believe I was out for that long,” Rio said honestly.

“Star Force training might use short workouts, but if it’s not something you’re used to it’ll suck the energy out of you just the same. Until you adapt, I suggest you try and get a few extra hours of sleep. The standard 8 won’t be enough.”

“I’ll remember that,” he promised, rubbing a crick in his neck. Maybe his bunk was a better place to rest than the chair, no matter how comfortable it had felt at the outset.

“Make sure your alarm is set loud, kid,” she said as they came to the doors and started to head different ways…her to the left and him to the right. “Don’t want to get penalized for oversleeping.”

“What’s the penalty?”

“I…don’t know. If you’re smart you won’t find out the hard way.”

“Ok, thanks…” he said as she walked off. He turned down his hallway and counted side hallways until he came to his section, then found door number 118. He typed in his access code, then had to do it a second time as his sleepy finger mishit one of the 8 digits. A bit slower and he got the code right, with the door sliding into the wall to reveal his tiny quarters.

Rio walked in and closed the door with a touch of the control panel set just inside the door jamb, then he locked it with another button an inch higher before pulling off his shirt and tossing it on the bit of floor the hexagonal room contained. The two angled walls on his right contained a single bunk built under an overhanging set of storage bins, with the opposite 3 walls containing a personal vid screen, pullout desk, and a very compact restroom/shower also set into the wall.

His ceiling was a geodesic dome with back lighting, taking away a bit of claustrophobia with programmable lights, which he had set on a slow, oscillating flicker of blue and green, but the floor was only a few square meters, meaning he could stretch out from his bunk and touch the restroom door, making him feel like his quarters were more like a containment pod…but at least they were exclusively his and he didn’t have to suffer through a roommate.

Rio laid down on his bunk and quickly began to fall asleep. Ever since that first day when they’d been deposited into the fake city to be hunted down by the trainers, he’d been barraged with workout sessions divided up between information dumps. Today the morning session had been focused on the various types of armor Star Force used, with commandos having 3 distinct varieties that differed from what the Archons, Knights, and others wore…carapace, vacuum, and jump.

Commando armor was designed to be quick and agile like the Archons’, but the one notable difference was the squarish design of the plates. Archon armor had smooth edges, while commando armor had rounded lines. Rio didn’t know what the significance of that was, but it gave them the ability to differentiate between a commando and an Archon set, despite the color IDs.

Commando armor could come in all kinds of colors, but mainline units either came in a dull grey or dirty white. Clan commandos had their armor appropriately customized to their Clan colors, while Star Force security armor usually had some gold coloration worked in. Knight armor was always pure white, like it was stating their superiority over the Regulars, and Rio couldn’t hold it against them. They were brutes, far larger in size than he or even the American Ranger trio, and though he hadn’t seen any of them here, Rio had gotten a combat demonstration vid in the afternoon information session that showed several in action, both in armor and out.

Then, as insanely humbling as that was, they showed him and the others in his ‘class’ an Archon adept, who despite her smaller size managed to fight toe to toe with a Knight, after taking apart a quartet of Regulars. Then a higher ranking Regular was brought in and somehow managed to take down the Archon.

But the demonstration didn’t stop there. A higher level adept came in and picked the Regular apart, then a Knight came in and did the same to the Archon. One after another, progressively higher ranked Regulars, Knights, and Archons were brought forth on the vid, clearly demonstrating the stratified nature of Star Force combat soldiers. One class wasn’t defaultly better than another, it was all determined by the skill level of the individual…though the Knights definitely had a size advantage.

By the time the vid worked up to an Archon ranger Rio’s jaw had dropped and stayed down for the remainder of the vid. Nothing he had ever seen even came close to the speed and strength he was witnessing, not even the most wild movie characterization of the Archons ever made. Reality, somehow, was lightyears beyond the fiction, making Rio wonder just how many awesome secrets Star Force had that they hadn’t felt like sharing with the public.

When Rio finally drifted off to sleep again, despite the long nap he’d already taken, his dreams started to repeat parts of the stunning combat he’d witnessed, via vid, earlier…along with the trainer’s words after Rio and Julie had been revived from their stun-induced defeat the first day, despite the fact that they’d lasted the longest out of the group.

“If you want to survive, you have to upgrade your individual skills…or hope to have some very powerful allies covering your ass.”

That sentiment took on new meaning after watching the skill levels displayed in the vid, and Rio’s subconscious mind agreed with his earlier sentiment that he had a very, very long way to go before he was going to fit in around here, but if what they’d told him about having no time limits was true, then what he had to do was live in the moment, one day, one workout at a time, and slowly, gradually climb the ranks.

Then maybe one day, very far down the road, he’d become a superhuman like them.

One month later his assessment hadn’t changed, but his understanding of the challenge did as he learned the fundamentals of training and just how badass the Star Force troops were. His body was sore, stiff, and fat-deprived now, with him sucking down platefuls of food at every opportunity in between workout sessions and during his off hours at the end of the day, most of which he spent in his bunk getting extra hours of sleep…that never seemed to be enough.

He woke up each day wanting to stay in bed, but after the first week he’d finally convinced his sleepy mind that he needed to get up in order to become superhuman, so despite the want to stay under the covers and soak up more of the bliss, he’d pull himself out of bed at the sound of his alarm and quickly dress in what he thought of as his ‘pajamas’. With his casual uniform on he’d report to the doors that exited the residential area, then get passed through by security that would otherwise not permit anyone to leave. New as they were, they didn’t have roaming privileges yet. Those they’d have to earn later.

Once through, Rio headed to the equipment room where he and the others got dressed in their training gear, which in this case was merely shorts, shirt, and running shoes. He and the other recruits hit a nearby track and got their pace laps in, of which Rio’s were 7:00 miles. He’d worked up to 2.5 miles, or 10 laps on the track, and even though the pace was now well within his wheelhouse, it was still an effort to get the laps in. Thankfully all he had to do was live in the moment and keep up with his holographic tracking icon, all the while the other recruits did the same thing, running at their individual paces and lap totals.

With his workout taking less than 20 minutes, he was back in the equipment room within a half hour to shower and dress in a fresh casual uniform. Then it was off to the cafeteria for breakfast, which for Rio was a stack of pancakes, two donuts, and several glasses of ‘red,’ which was one of several drink flavors/concoctions, each of which had different nutritional values. Red was full of electrolytes and other things needed to replace workout losses, while blue, green, white, purple, black, and clear all had different supplements. Some were vitamins, others were sugars, and all had their purpose, with ‘clear’ being pure water.

The foodstuffs had some similarities, with specific items having specific supplements, but Rio hadn’t given much attention to them other than what his nose and taste buds told him…which, ironically, one of his ‘classroom’ sessions had indicated was a good idea, for the body’s biofeedback worked to inform the individual of what it needed at that moment. It was a subtle thing in most cases, and Rio didn’t think he was reading anything subtle into his tastes. He was hungry and craving food, sugars mostly, but that was the extent to which he made it a mental exercise.

Mouth open, food in…then after that, along with a lot of red, he’d either head back to the lounge or, usually, take a slow walk over to the information session he had to report to next and just get there early. Two hours of information about a variety of things, all of which he could then look up in his quarters later for review, given that all information was locked until it was broached in session, and it was back to the equipment room again and out of his casual uniform, which he stowed in a locker before changing into a full body combat suit.

The material was thin, but the knees and elbows were slightly padded, and the whole thing preserved his agility to the point that sometimes he felt like he was naked. It was colored gray with shoes that zipped into the legs, forming a total single piece that went up to his tight neckline, but left his head exposed. Now properly attired he headed over to another area of the training facility, this one a weapons range where he would get in an hour of static shooting practice with a variety of weapons, stun and live rounds, before switching to the obstacle course half.

That was much more difficult, which had him running along a path and engaging holographic enemies as they randomly popped up. He was scored on hits/kills/ammo and had never gotten all the way through to the end without running his weapon dry, including the rifle which carried an insanely large amount of rounds. When he was given that, it usually ended up being a zombie fest…which was what Raven called a particular challenge where there was a holographic chaser moving at a specific speed behind you, keeping you running forward at all times else it make contact and trigger a disqualification.

As it pressed you forward there were hundreds of holographic targets…some Human, most lizard, with a variety of other races thrown in, including some fictitious ones, such as ewoks and Zerg, each with their own movement patterns. They were all his targets, while others were targets/hunters that would actively move towards him, and if they made ‘physical contact,’ which in this case meant the holograph overlapping with his body, it would dock him points. That meant he had to track, shoot, and evade simultaneously in an overly chaotic run to the finish…all of which had to stay ahead of the ‘zombie’ behind him, which preventing him from camping out and putting some order to the chaos.

By the time he was finished at the range his legs were dragging all the way back to the equipment room. He had two hours off for lunch, a significant piece of which he spent in the shower. Some of the others skipped that step and went straight to eat, knowing they were going to have another training session afterward, but with an unlimited supply of uniforms, Rio preferred discarding his sweaty ones whenever he could and getting cleaned up in between sessions.

He got to the cafeteria and chowed down again, this time on breadsticks, pasta, and a huge piece of cake. Hungry for more, he held himself back, not wanting to get sick an hour later when he went through basic hand to hand combat drills, all individual based against practice equipment, developing and strengthening the movements that his body needed to put to muscle memory, upon which later sessions would be built around.

Everything here worked off of prerequisites. Learning one thing led to another that required knowledge of the first, and the physical training was no exception. In his spare time he had a chance to look ahead at some of the challenges he had available to him, seeing what scores he needed to unlock others and additional equipment. So far the sniper rifle, which was his favorite weapon by far, was still out of his reach, requiring mastering the pistol in three versions first…plasma, stinger, and stun…enough to make him competent enough to hit targets rather than friendlies most of the time.

Another thing he learned early on was that ‘mastering’ something didn’t mean you couldn’t improve any further…far from it. There was always another ability level to rise up to, with the appropriately named ‘trailblazers’ leading the way for the Archons, pushing their skills into unknown territory and giving those that followed benchmarks to train towards or against. The same was true of the Regulars, with their own leaders providing an example of just how much could be accomplished over the centuries if one had the mental fortitude to devote themselves to the task day in and day out without fail.

And they weren’t done yet. They were still rising higher, attaining new skill levels while the trainers wrote the requirements for others. Those men and women fascinated him. What would it be like to go at it completely blind as to what was ahead? Everything Rio was learning and becoming was based off of what others had done before him and codified into the quickest, most efficient means of learning for others to tackle and level up as fast as possible.

Besides their skills, which were nearly god-like already, they had to be true badasses in order to do what they did and cut the trail for the others, like him, to follow on.

In the first few weeks of his training, Rio had occasionally thought back to home and Nadia, with his sentimental feelings quickly being replaced with sober understanding of just how sheltered and stagnant he had been. He could never go back there, be what he had once been, and he felt a mixture of pity and revulsion at those who lived their entire lives in such a state.

By the end of the month all thoughts to that past life were gone, with Rio’s entire being now dedicated to training, training, and more training. This was his life now, and it was more than he had ever dreamed of it being…because it was real, visceral, and a lot of other things he couldn’t put into words.

Bottom line was, it was what he wanted…and from that point forward he never had any regrets concerning his decision to leave. Star Force was legit, and he couldn’t imagine him doing anything else, now that he’d gotten a taste of the real thing.

4

December 28, 2458

Solar System

Mars

Rio ducked down behind a low wall as stingers flew over his head, cradling his rifle across his chest as he glanced down the flank and saw his teammate for this exercise flash him a hand signal. It was palm flat and level to the ground, but his hand held steady, indicating that Rio should stay behind cover.

He didn’t respond, but kept his eyes on that hand until it suddenly flipped over to where he could see the back of the hand with a thumb pointing up…at which point Rio, trusting his teammate’s vantage point, stood up and jumped over the wall in one semi-fluid motion. He came down on the other side and took three awkward steps forward before sliding down behind another low wall…with more stingers flashing over his head, narrowly missing.

Rio shoved his protective sunglasses back up his nose, them having slipped half an inch when he hit the ground. He knew he should have picked up a snugger pair in the equipment room, but there was no going back now…he’d have to make do with what he had.

He glanced around, seeing a pillar on the wall to his left, and crawled towards it, allowing him to stand up on a knee and poke his right eyeball out around cover to where he could see the single turret he and his 4 man team were approaching. There was a series of low walls going all the way up to the thing, but the deactivation sphere atop the damn thing wouldn’t go live until they got up to the closest wall, forcing them to leapfrog their way up to it rather than pepper it with paint from range.

But then again, that was the point of the exercise, and this was his fourth time going through it this afternoon. The idea was for no one to get hit while giving them a chance to practice their coordinated movement tactics…with being fast and clean the objective. The basic hand signals they’d been taught helped greatly, and Rio had memorized them the first chance he had, but there was only so much you could do with a single hand, or two, and he really wished he had a comm piece right now so he could tell Linda when the right time to move was.

He could see her hunkered down on the opposite side from him, one wall ahead. She looked back at him waiting for him to give the go ahead, but he held his palm out flat to the ground, telling her to stay put. Rio had to be careful to stay behind the pillar, otherwise the turret would shoot his hand…something he’d learned the hard way a few weeks ago. Poking his eye out and trying to do it slowly so as not to trigger the motion detection sensors on the turret, he watched the twin barrels rotate and depress slightly as Nate jumped up and down behind his wall, getting the turret’s attention.

When it rotated to track him, spitting out some stingers that missed badly, Rio gave Linda the ‘thumbs up’ and saw her blindly jump up and slither over the wall, disappearing from view far quicker than Rio had. A moment later stingers landed on the other side just as he saw her crawl into view up against the next wall, with no paint on her. Once again her previous gymnastics experience allowed her the flexibility to bend and move low to the ground in ways that Rio couldn’t…at least yet. His flexibility was increasingly slowly, but he wasn’t going to catch her for some time, meaning he was going to have to stiff-leg it through these exercises until he was able to limber up.

Ok, she’s there, he’s there…which means I need to go there, he mentally planned out before dropping into a crawl and headed down the length of the wall closer to where Linda had gone over, but near to another pillar that would give him a vantage point, allowing him to coordinate with the others. It had felt like a painful game of chess to him when they’d first been introduced to the maneuvering tactics, but now it was coming easier, with the available positions starting to pop into his mind on sight rather than him having to think it through too much.

He signaled to Tom, getting him over the next wall, then provided a distraction to the turret, helping Nate get by…leaving him the furthest back. His teammates returned the favor, created a diversion that let him move up not one, but two walls using his hurdling technique from high school track on the second barrier before dropping into a roll that bumped him up against the second, back first.

Rio was safe though, with a couple of blue stingers hitting the wall behind him and splashing their paint and stun energy against it. The stun energy dissipated into the material, leaving only the slick goo behind, but he knew if he touched it too soon he’d get a little numb, for the stun didn’t disappear immediately on impact. Same went for a person, which he’d also learned the hard way when one of his teammates had gotten hit and he reached to pull him behind cover. His hand had gone numb when he grabbed the man’s shoulder, causing his grip to slip and a wash of pins and needles to follow that severely hampered him through the rest of that challenge.

Rookie mistakes, he knew, and he was glad he was beyond that point now. A few minutes later and this impromptu team was up to the closest wall, with them taking turns popping up and shooting the deactivation sphere atop the turret until it became saturated enough to end the exercise. When it did a finish tone sounded and blue lights came on…along with a cleaning crew that quickly wiped off the paint splatters, resetting the course within 2 minutes for the next group to come through.

Rio knew he didn’t have time to wait around and go through again with a different set of teammates, so he checked his rifle in at the waiting area and headed out into the hallways that ran through the training areas, deciding to get in a little sparring practice with an available trainer before heading back to the equipment room for a show and over to his designated cafeteria for supper. When he got there he saw Julie and Raven already there and went over to join them with his plateful of carb and sugar-heavy foodstuffs, not to mention two large bottles of red.

“You need to shave, kid,” Julie said as he sat down, with him reflexively rubbing his chin, realizing that he’d forgotten to shave that morning.

“Guess so,” he said, taking a bite out of a roll. “Must have slipped my mind this morning.”

“You still having trouble sleeping?” Raven asked, then downed a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

“Yeah. It’s like my body is so tired it forgets how to sleep. Best I can do is catch a crash nap, but they don’t last longer than 45 minutes. Then I’m back to being a zombie.”

“Sounds like you could use a girlfriend,” Julie suggested, paying more attention to her plate than him.

Rio looked up. “You offering?”

Julie half choked, then looked at him with a weird expression on her face. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Well, it was your idea,” Raven commented with a grin.

She starred laser bolts back at him. “He’s not my type, and besides, he’s like my brother. You can’t screw your brother.”

“Says who?” Raven shot back. “Well, from a girl’s perspective anyway. Biologically it’s all the same, brother or stranger.”

“Fine,” she said, taking a sip of green, “you can screw your brother, but you shouldn’t want to. Totally different relationship there. The two aren’t compatible.”

“Still,” Raven teased, “if it would help him sleep.”

She stuck two fingers into his mashed potatoes, dipped up a healthy glob, then flipped them in his face all within a second and a half.

Rio couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks Raven, but I don’t think sex is going to help. My body’s all messed up from the changes, I’d guess. I just need time to adapt.”

“Wise words,” Raven approved, flicking a bit of potatoes back at Julie, who caught it on her nose. “Leave it to a girl to think sex solves everything.”

She pointed a warning finger at him, then went back to eating as Styk came and sat down next to her, directly across from Rio. He looked at his fellow ex-Rangers and frowned.

“What happened to you two?”

“A difference of opinion,” Julie said.

“The kid can’t sleep, and she suggested sex would help.”

Styk glanced at her. “I didn’t think the young were your type?”

She pounded both fists down on the table, bracketing her plate. “I am not the only girl around here.”

“But you are the hottest,” Rio said, drawing a snicker from Raven.

Julie’s mouth opened to argue, then closed against when she realized what she would be arguing against. “Thanks.”

“Just pointing out the obvious, sis,” Rio added.

“Did I miss something else?” Styk asked.

Raven shook his head. “Just Jules inferring that we’re all family here, and therefore off limits on hump day.”

“Ouch. Guess I’m going to have to take back that Valentine’s day present I got you,” Styk joked as he bit into a very long sugar stick.

“Yeah, yeah, pick on me,” Julie complained. “I was just trying to help the kid.”

“Thank you,” Rio said in between bites.

“As far as us being a ‘family,’” Styk commented, pausing to take a drink, “I’m afraid we’re going to be splitting up. I’m heading out tomorrow.”

“Where to?” Raven asked, serious.

“I passed my trials, so I’m moving to another facility a few hundred kilometers from here for advanced training.”

“When did this happen?” Julie demanded.

“Two hours ago.”

“You got the agility course mark?” Rio asked, curious. That one in particular was giving him headaches in the a la carte trials that all of them were working their individual way towards passing.

“Took some doing, but yeah, just yesterday. Crazy, they’ve already got me scheduled to leave this soon.”

“What about the graduation ceremony?”

“Ha…there is none. Just a joke the trainers let spread around as rumor.”

“Nothing?” Julie asked.

“Just a brief talk, explaining what’s happening next. Passing basic means you’re not a screw-up, so now it’s onto the real training to become commandos.”

“Good,” Raven said with a nod. “I thought things around here were a little weak.”

“Be careful what you ask for,” Julie warned him.

“If they’re weak, why haven’t you passed yet?” Styk challenged.

“I’m close. Maybe another week or two.”

“What’s holding you up?”

“Stupid sword. Really, in this day and age, who uses a sword?”

“Knights,” Rio offered.

“Well we’re not training to be Knights. I can see using a stun stick, but the sword is just too damn long to be of much use.”

Rio smiled, but didn’t say anything, though Julie raised an eyebrow.

“What?” she asked him.

“I already passed the sword trial. Wasn’t that hard once I stopped using it to ‘chop wood,’” he explained, using the phrase his trainer had drilled into him to correct his mistake.

“Way to go, kid,” Julie said, brimming with amusement as she stared at Raven. “If he can do it, then you just suck.”

“I’ll second that,” Styk added.

“As I said,” Raven emphasized, “I’ll get it soon. Then I’ll join you wherever it is you’re going.”

“Maybe not,” Styk said, his merriment disappearing. “I’m told there are multiple facilities. We might not end up at the same place.”

“So this could be goodbye?” Julie asked.

“I prefer ‘until next time,’” Styk said, forcing a smile.

“There’s a chance we might meet up again,” Raven added. “I’ve been talking with some of the vets that turned trainer, and they say assignments aren’t always blind. Sometimes you get options. Let us know where you land, and there’s a chance we might be able to follow.”

“Will do,” Styk said, returning his attention to his plate.

“You too, kid,” Julie said, drawing an eyebrow from Raven. “Keep us up to date on your progress…occasionally.”

“Yeah, I’m going to be here a while longer,” he said with resignation.

“It takes time,” Raven offered. “We started here on the same day, but we’ve had years of experience you lack. If you tested out the same time we did, then we’d suck.”

“I’ll make it,” Rio promised.

“One step at a time, kid,” Styk cautioned. “Stick with it and we’ll see you on the other side.”

It took Rio another 8 months before he finally completed his graduation trials, the last of which was the running test, which required a sub 16:00 5k. That was three times as long and just as fast as the mile he ran to qualify for the program, and had left him thoroughly drained afterward, but unlike the mile he felt more in control of the 5k, now that he knew how to train for it…and had a pacing marker to follow. That let him bury himself in workouts, not having to worry about anything other than staying with the glowing dot as long as he could.

His legs didn’t like that method, but they responded to it well enough. Still, it takes time to build strength and speed, and he was happy with completing the trials when he did. Others had come and gone from the training facility, but there were some that had gotten there before him and had yet to test out, meaning he wasn’t bottom of the barrel. As the trainers had said, it didn’t matter how long it took you to get to the qualification point, so long as you got there, then, after that, everyone was even going forward.

Which was something that Rio was eagerly anticipating. When he got his graduation speech, he was told that the training would be ramped up, with a lot more challenges and less individual training time. He’d have to use what he’d learned in basic, combined with computer database resources, to create his own physical training workouts…forcing him to rely less and less on trainers, at least for things they’d already gone over time and again.

When it came time to leave he packed a duffle and hopped a train that took him across the Martian landscape, bypassing several cities on the way until it dropped him off at a huge complex, and that was saying something given the monstrous Star Force-built cities that sprouted up across the planet. The training facility looked like an artificial mountain range, but with smooth sides and flat peaks, on top of which he could see dropships coming and going, along with several larger starships, cargo transports from the look of it, though they were so far away it was hard to be sure.

The ‘mountains’ grew larger as the train crept towards them, ultimately ducking into a tunnel and regaining its apparent speed…for the sheer size of the center had made the train feel as if it were standing still rather than speeding along at several hundreds of miles per hour. Once inside it continued its speedy transit, eventually coming out the other side, allowing Rio to see that the mountain ‘range’ was actually a ring, with a huge interior ‘crater’ that housed what looked like exterior training facilities for mechs.

He hadn’t realized that this would be a shared division facility, but as the train slowed he could see dozens of mechs moving in formation, while others were lifting objects and running over others. Some jumped into the air and floated on anti-grav jump jets, while others climbed rocky hills, all of which appeared to be non-veteran pilots by the awkward way the mechs were moving around.

There were also aircraft in play, and far off in the distance he thought he saw infantry in pressure suits moving around on the surface. That scared him, for he didn’t like the idea of dying if he got a tiny cut on an arm or leg. Mars’ atmospheric pressure may have risen slightly since Star Force had first colonized it, due to terraforming factories turning rock into gas, but the natural environment was still unlivable.

It was warmer, but still below freezing on most of the planet, and the oxygen level was minuscule. Most of the gasses being produced were carbon dioxide, which several hardy forests were gobbling up and producing the oxygen…but for an entire planet’s worth of atmosphere it barely made a dent, meaning that if you went outside without a suit, you’d either suffocate to death or bleed out from decompression, just not as fast as you would have in the old days.

The rest of the planet was still a dry, cold desert, with Star Force’s major terraforming projects using their resources on planets with near to normal gravity. Mars, at 37%, was better suited to the interior-dwelling mega structures that already covered the planet, with more and more gradually being added to fill in the remaining swaths of red as seen from orbit, which only recently passed the 50% mark, making the planet more urban than empty.

Rio’s train came to a halt in a terminal that housed several other tracks, with two other trains visible parked inside shielded buildings that allowed them in but kept the cold and low pressure air out. He got off onto the landing, duffle carried over his shoulder, and moved to the nearby check-in station as he’d been instructed to. From there various handlers escorted him off through underground tunnels and into the mountain range of a complex where he was inundated with people…all Star Force, and recruits by the look of them, making him feel like this was Star Force’s version of the upper class in high school…meaning he was at the bottom of the totem pole all over again.

But at least he’d have company, for there were a lot of other recruits fresh off of basic training that he was assigned quarters with. Unlike his first dip into the basic training world, there was no survival or combat scenario, just an introductory meeting and an assignment to a training team, which he met up with the next day, headed up by an active commando that was overseeing a staff of trainers that likewise oversaw all 1000 of Rio’s team.

Together, they’d be competing against other teams, both in terms of scores and combat scenarios, meaning that they were all starting out at the same place as he was…rookies, and they’d have to learn and grow together, else, the commando warned, they’d never get their official rank, for while a commando had to be able to take on a ‘one man army’ role at any given time, it was essential that they be able to work together for maximum advantage, which was something they’d need when facing superior opponents…such as some of the other teams that had been at this facility for a few years.

Rio knew that meant he might have to go up against Raven, Styk, and Julie at some point…which he wasn’t looking forward to, but who knew. After a year or so he might feel differently, for he got the feeling that his previous ‘education’ in basic really was just the beginning, and that he was about to be indoctrinated into a whole new level of badass...

5

March 1, 2460

Solar System

Mars

“Today is the day you take your training to the next level,” Tamon Sla said to Rio’s team, designated Epsilon 12, as they were back in the amphitheater for another lecture/instruction session from their commando overseer. The man appeared in casual uniform on the center stage, with a much larger version of him being displayed on the vid screen behind, which was the only way Rio was able to get a good look at the small vile he held in his hand.

“This is a concoction that we call ‘ambrosia.’ It boosts your energy levels and allows you to train longer and harder than before. With proper doses, you’ll be able to lengthen your running workouts immediately…with improper doses you’ll be in your bunks with a monster headache the likes of which you’ve probably never experienced before. This stuff is potent. Take too much and you’ll regret it.”

“Both the Knights and Archons rely on the stuff, but do not misunderstand me when I say that this aids in your training…it doesn’t replace it. Ambrosia alone won’t make you strong, it amplifies the training process, and that training is what upgrades your bodies. Use it wisely, and ambrosia will advance you through the abilities levels far faster than your current rate of progress.”

So that’s how they got so strong, Rio thought, one piece of the gigantic Star Force puzzle finally falling into place. He and the other recruits were far inferior to the training marks of line units, and he wondered how they’d ever be able to measure up…even if they did have hundreds of years of training to do it.

“Over the next month you will be given no new challenges. Your fitness training is going to take precedence. Learn to use the ambrosia properly, let it upgrade your workouts and determine your proper doses before you return to your normal training. I cannot overemphasize the importance of this transitional period. It is key. So listen to your trainers and be cautious in upping your dosage. Over time, as your workouts increase, your body will be able to use more, so don’t try to copy others. If you took one of mine you’d overdose in all its painful glory, so much so it might kill you…or maybe you might just want to die.”

“You don’t take this,” he said, holding up the vile. “This is far too much. We measure it in foodstuffs that are laced with an exact amount. We never drink the liquid. The doses are too small to measure in this form. From now on you’ll have access to the new foodstuffs. Be wary not to confuse them with your others. They’ll be set aside in a different area, just don’t forget these aren’t snacks. They’re precisely measured ambrosia doses, and different types of foodstuffs have different amounts, so don’t grab one without checking. The heavy doses won’t be available, because none of you will need them, but in other Star Force facilities they will be, so don’t grab one a ranger would take, or, like I said, you’ll be in a world of hurt.”

Rio listened intently as Sla talked them through various applications of the ambrosia, as well as things not to do with it in training. He tried to soak it all in, but a lot of it he just didn’t understand, and he hoped that was because it required some measure of experience to grasp…but if he did miss anything some of his teammates would figure it out and explain it later, so he didn’t worry. They’d gotten good at information sharing and helping each other with training, because it had become apparent early on that the better they made each other, the better the team became, and they really wanted to outdo the other teams on their level…if not take a few of the senior ones down.

They had a total of five years to work together towards graduation, at which point the team would either be advanced or failed, as a group, based on their challenge performances, both man to man and against the various automated courses. If the team passed, then the individuals would all face their own final trials. If completed they’d earn the position and status as a Regular, the ‘lowest’ level of Star Force’s superhumans.

But Rio knew it wasn’t low by any standard. It meant he’d be one of the elite, and he was sure going to have to earn it, given the way they were being trained. If he didn’t make it after 5 years he’d be recycled back into a newly formed team and get the chance to go through it all over again, hopefully taking his experience and skills and adding to them enough to make it through a second time.

Sla had told them about one particular commando that was a friend of his, and how he’d gone through three times before finally making it, but once he did he became one of the most steady and reliable commandos in his former unit. Shooting stars burned out, he explained, but it was the steady progressor that climbed their way up the ability ladder, and it was the steady progressor that Star Force was interested in.

Hitting a plateau was the one thing nobody wanted, with those that appeared ‘gifted’ often doing so. No commando got to being what they were by luck, privilege, or favor. They had to earn it, over and over again, so there could be no mistake about their skills and their ability to continually increase them.

Which was what Rio was focused on. He was competitive, for sure. All of them were. But he didn’t get hung up on the rankings like others did. He was focused on improving…fast or slow, but always improving. That was the one thing that kept him going, despite all the craziness of their training schedule. Ignoring the big picture and focusing on taking tiny steps forward. Between that and the support of his teammates, he figured he had a decent chance of graduating along with the rest of them in this go through, but if he didn’t, he’d already decided to stick it out as long as needed, 100 years if necessary. He wasn’t going to quit. He was going to become a commando, one way or another.

“You ready?”

“I hope so,” Rio said, running a finger under the tight neckline of his training suit. “I’ve only got three days left.”

“Anxiousness will slow you down,” the trainer warned. “You need to relax a hair, and do it by living in the moment. All that matters is moving…not the implications of what happens if you fail.”

“Got it.”

“Step up.”

Rio did as instructed, mounting the small pedestal that would start him on the 3rd of 5 trials…the only one left for him to pass. This was his 17th attempt, and he wasn’t very confident in his luck changing this go around.

As instructed he put those thoughts aside, focusing on his body position as a clear tube dropped down around him, sealing him in. He focused on his breathing, timing it right as he heard the countdown tones and dropped into a crouch. When the final one sounded the top of his tube opened and water poured down, flooding him. Patiently he held still, feeling his buoyancy manifest as he held his breath with his right hand pinching his nose until the water settled, then he launched himself up, pushing off the floor, and grabbed the top rim of the cylinder for additional leverage.

Carrying as much momentum with him as he could, he swam up some 20 meters until he broke the surface on an indoor lake, blowing out a bit of water and jerking his head around, getting his bearings.

There was a dock to his left, shore to his right, and jungle straight ahead…but he chose none of them. Swimming about, he headed behind him and across the long part of the lake to a wall that appeared unclimbable, but from previous experience he knew it contained small handholds, something he’d learned by watching one of his friends go through the trial.

It was a long swim, about 300 meters in length, but when he got to the wall he had to swim around even more until he found the right spot. Digging his fingers into the small indents, he pulled himself out of the water and began scaling the wall, making sure not to slip and fall back down as he had before, knowing he was on the clock.

He had to get to one of the exits within 12 minutes, and Rio didn’t want to waste seconds here.

When he got to the top he held position, glancing down the walkway that was on the other side. The placement of the turrets changed with each trial, so one couldn’t map out the best way through with successive tries. He spotted one to his far right, but that was it, and it was doubtful it could hit him at this range.

Rio launched himself up and over the wall on his ambrosia-enhanced muscles and ran across the walkway to a small building, ducking down outside the front door where a low wall gave him some cover. A few stingers followed him, but the turret wasn’t able to land any. Rio held still in a crouch behind the wall for a moment, then crawled across the doorway and around the corner of the building, chancing a look around the wall, then running out around it and into the jungle shrubbery.

He knew he had to move fast, for the exit he was making for was around the other side of the lake. The closest ones were well guarded, as they all were, but the outside of the dome wasn’t a smooth wall, and he’d learned that there was a rimward entrance to one of them that avoided most of the typical turret nests…but it meant a lot of running with little time to do it.

And he couldn’t run straight line either. He had to zigzag, pausing to listen and look for turrets…not to mention a scattering of trainers with stinger rifles and snipes. They roamed about wherever they pleased, which was why Rio had chosen to swim for the wall. They would have seen him do so, which meant they would be repositioning around the perimeter towards those exits…all the while he was running the opposite direction. With luck, he should be able to slip by them, but so far his plan had failed 3 times.

He’d gotten nicked by a turret each time, which slowed him down enough to make him easy pickings for the trainers…especially when he got hit in a leg. No, his problem was he was rushing too much, which he knew was counterproductive. Like his trainers had been drilling into his head for years, he had to survive in order to succeed…and this time that meant going slow and ‘safe’ despite the hounding of the ever counting clock.

Tree after tree he passed, ducking down occasionally to get his bearings and line of sight on his next sprint. He found three new turrets enroute, but spotted them far enough ahead that they couldn’t blindside him. Adjusting his course each time, he moved around them, trimming what seconds he could off his trip until he got up to a section of sand bisecting the jungle that had two turrets up against the wall and several other pairs dotting the stretch all the way down to the lake…meaning the only way to get by these was move back down to the lake and take a swim, or take your chances running across.

Rio took two seconds to plot out his path, then sprinted out onto the sand, immediately drawing stingers his way. He jumped up and fell into a somersault, coming back up on his feet and running sideways…then skidded to a halt in a baseball slide before shooting off another direction, messing with the motion trackers as much as he could. Give the programming a straight line trajectory to follow and predict and you were as good as dead…meaning a direct sprint across the gap was a no go.

Rio got past the halfway point in the sand clean, then caught a stinger on his left thumb. His entire hand went numb, but his wrist on up still worked, meaning he was still almost completely mobile. The next somersault was awkward, but he managed to keep his momentum and get near to the edge of the sand, resisting the urge to sprint the rest of the way and throwing in another right angle pivot, rolling across the sand and then jumping back to his feet at an angle, with two stingers peppering the ground where his body would have been had he moved directly toward the trees.

Four more powerful strides and he was up to a sprint again, which he carried into the brush that shredded the stingers flying at him, making a shotgun-like effect of paint splinters that blanketed his back. He felt little patches of numbness pop up, but his torso motion wasn’t affected, nor were his legs that had escaped the paint shrapnel.

And then Rio was through, with his mind not lingering on that fact as he moved off closer to the dome edge, running away from his target exit and slightly backwards as he came within a few meters of the sand he’d just crossed, only all the way up near the wall. Carefully he snuck around a rock outcropping and ducked past the turrets, then climbed up out of the trees and ran through a narrow trench between the rocks that protected him from view on either side.

He was in the clear for turrets, he hoped, then caught a glance of paint splatter in front of him as a stinger from behind overshot. Pushing his speed as much as he could on the rough terrain, he ducked close to the side rocks, trying to disrupt the firing line of the sniper he knew was behind him. With little else to do aside from cross his fingers for luck, he ran through the trench and eventually made it to the far end, coming back out into the trees, having bypassed the thickest of the permanent turret fields.

Ducking down on reflex, he dropped beneath a pair of stingers flying through the air and rolled to the right, taking cover behind a tree. He held position and got his bearings, then sprinted off to another tree further on. Two more and he was past the turret and nearing the exit, which he knew would be guarded by multiple defense points.

When they came into view he held up, thinking fast how he was going to get through them. The others had used multiple tactics, none of which seemed especially good, so he chose a really bad one…in that it was slow. Backtracking a few meters he found a tree he liked and started to climb it, getting up as high as he could, then jumping from one tree to another, cringing as he could practically feel the seconds ticking off the clock.

Five tree hops later and he was past the turrets, which was the moment of truth. He grabbed a branch and swung his legs over, dropping to the ground in a crouch and sprinting for the finish inside a cave as the turrets rotated around when they picked him up on their motion trackers. He threw in a zigzag motion a couple of seconds later, not wanting to give them a stable target, then felt his right shoulder go numb a split second before he stumbled forward and fell to the ground, tumbling into a somersault that took him through the blue energy field that marked the finish.

Without his right arm working, Rio pulled his legs up to his chest then rocked forward, rolling up onto his heels and standing up as he heard the triumphant finish tone sound, indicating that he not only succeeded in passing the trial, but completed all trials…meaning he’d just earned his commando credentials.

An uncontrollable smile broke out on his face as a medic appeared and walked over, injecting him with a destunning serum that brought his arm back to life, along with all the other little numb spots covering his body.

“Thanks,” he said, rotating his arm around and confirming that it was back to normal.

The medic nodded and walked off, with Rio following him out of the cave exit and into the hallway beyond, transitioning from naturalistic environment to the urban landscape that made up the bulk of the training center. A few steps out he found Sla waiting.

“End of the road,” he said, grabbing his shoulder and steering him to the left. “Come with me.”

“Is there more?” Rio asked with a frown.

“There’s always more…something that you need to remember, commando. Time to find out where you’re going next.”

Rio didn’t ask any further questions, simply walking with the man over to a lift that took them somewhere else within the facility, somewhere that he’d never been before. When the doors eventually opened Sla led him out into some sort of a control center, a single, empty room with a bank of terminals ringing a holographic pad…a small version, making for an intimate room that reeked of importance.

“When a commando is minted, as you’ve just been, assignments are given here. There’s a complicated selection process that you don’t need to concern yourself with the details of, but it’s all highly automated. Unit commanders make their preferences early, with priority ratings, then when you finish I come over here and input your ID tag,” he said, typing in Rio’s number, “and we see where you end up.”

Sla took a step back and looked at where the hologram was…or rather should have been, for it was displaying nothing.

“Wait for it,” Sla said, picking up on Rio’s thoughts. He’d overseen so many mintings that he was familiar with all the various reactions, and Rio wasn’t anything new.

About 20 seconds went by, then a holographic icon popped up, drawing a raised eyebrow from Sla.

“Well, well…look what we have here,” he said, seeing the rare headband icon emblazoned a meter tall in between the two men. “You’ve been recruited by Clan.”

“Clan Metal Gear?” Rio asked, recognizing the symbol.

“One of the better commando Clans at that. Most new commandos get assigned to colonial mainline units. About 18% go out to the Clans. You might not stay there forever, there’s a bit of mixing going back and forth, but apparently someone values your skillset enough to put in a bid for you. Take a moment to appreciate that, then dispense with the good feelings. You’re about to leave kidsville and get your eyes opened to what experienced commandos are capable of.”

Rio locked eyes with him. “Looking forward to it.”

6

August 26, 2464

Solar System

Uranus

Rio rode the dropship down from the starport, seeing the greenish/blue atmosphere of the planet grow in size until it swallowed up the vid screen view, and still their destination wasn’t visible. Braking against their own orbital momentum coming off the starport, the dropship eventually slowed to a near hover, matching the drifting motion of the Snake Pit that was riding the upper atmosphere below them, partially obscured in the gas giant’s haze.

The colony wasn’t on the surface of the planet, because the planet had no surface. It was layer after layer of gasses, mostly hydrogen and helium, that transitioned down into a blender-like mantle of gas and ices. This gave it no true surface to land or build on, with the center core of the planet being made of rocky material…material that Clan Metal Gear was convinced contained significant corovon deposits.

Trace amounts of Herotol, a gas whose atomic structure included a single corovon along with 8 protons and 4 neutrons, had been discovered in the atmosphere of Uranus, and the Clan had been adamant about probing for deposits within the core. Davis had eventually granted them permission to try, and Clan Metal Gear had built the Snake Pit to facilitate those ongoing efforts.

The city/colony floated on anti-grav engines…a lot of engines, with backups for the backups, to keep it afloat and away from the dangerous interior. With pressures and temperatures rising the deeper one went into the planet, the more exotic the stages of matter became, with bits of liquid hydrogen mixed in with the rock, all of which was in a molten state. The thick ‘atmosphere’ contained the heat, preventing there from being a solid center, resulting in mud-like layers of material, sorted out by their densities and magnetic properties.

The corovon, if in its pure form, would have sunk to the center of the planet…in theory. There was no way to scan that deep, so the Metal Gears’ efforts were more exploratory than mining, and so far they hadn’t been able to penetrate anywhere near deep enough to get at the center of the planet, but they had been recovering other compounds that contained corovon, in small amounts, which made the facility worthwhile in the interim as they continued to upgrade their technology and devise ever more interesting techniques to get at the core.

Though Rio couldn’t see them, coming down from atop as the dropship was, there were thin tethers dropping off the bottom of the circular city that connected down to mining probes that were collecting material at varying depths. Hydrogen and helium collection were being harvested en mass, then exported out to the rest of the Clan, along with methane and other gasses in the upper atmosphere.

Over the years many of those tendrils had snapped, due to the winds, but the Clan had kept at it, devising more flexible and robust connections, allowing them to sway about without breaking. None of them were manned, but the underside of the city was covered in tendril mounts, letting the miners within the Snake Pit fish for whatever resources they wanted, when they wanted, with 12 currently deployed, two of which were deep probes.

Those probes were designed to penetrate the non-gaseous layers, coming into contact with liquids and ices, though those ices were not ‘solid,’ being churned up and moved about in a high pressure environment. Those probes were out of the prototype stage, and were reliable enough to pull in a slew of material into their ‘bulbs,’ which sat at the opposite end of the tethers. Those bulbs were miniature processing centers, sifting through the mix of material and discarding what they didn’t want. What they did want they shot up the tendrils to the city, where the more or less pure material was collected and put to use.

Power and control lines were located in the tendrils, meaning that if one got cut the only way to deal with the situation was to reel it up, fix the damage, and send it back down…which took hours, if not days. When powered, small anti-grav units in the bulb assisted with the lifting, but if they went out the Snake Pit had to physically haul them up, and if they tried to pull them in too fast the tethers would snap and they’d lose the bulb altogether.

That had happened several times in the beginning, before the engineers got a handle on the stresses and somewhat predictable nature of the turbulence in the planet. Those bulbs were now floating somewhere in the mantle, they assumed, but with no onboard power there was no way to locate them, though if they did have an active tracking beacon it was unlikely that it would have been detectable from the city’s location. Another probe might have been able to pick it up within a few kilometers, but without power another probe could pass within 1 meter of the lost bulbs and not even know they were there.

The Clan didn’t like littering, but the failures paid off in the form of new, more durable constructions, and they didn’t lose many nowadays. The only ones they did were the deep core probes that were still in what they labeled as a prototype stage. None of those were currently deployed, as the Clan engineers were still working on designing upgrades after the last mission that had narrowly brought back the bulb after it hit a pocket of turbulence within the molten core that had stretched the tether far beyond expectations. It had been raised back up in time to preserve the tether, but there had been so much stress damage that it was easier to build an entirely new one rather than attempt to repair the damage.

As fascinating as all of that was, Rio wasn’t here to assist with the mining or engineering efforts. The Snake Pit was a fully functional colony housing some 18 million people inside the floating city. This was to be his first assignment, along with thousands of other Clan Metal Gear commandos that were on hand for military readiness, should an alert come through they need to be deployed nearby in the system or, in the unlikely case of an internal problem, combat within the city itself.

That aside, most of the commandos were here for training…and trials combat. The Snake Pit was one of the permanent trials sites, meaning that not only commandos, but Knights and Archons would be there in large numbers, eager to battle each other to gain status and rewards for their Clans, as well as combat experience for themselves. While there were no mechs or aircraft trials taking place here, save for on simulators, there was an aquatics section within the city, allowing for real water combat in addition to the simulators, which Rio found to be absolutely crazy.

Water warfare, inside a city that was floating in the upper atmosphere of a gas giant? Now that was something he was definitely going to have to see for himself, but more than anything else, the Snake Pit was renowned for its commando trials, with few facilities in the Solar System that could match its varied challenge courses. Clan Metal Gear typically maintained a Top 10 ranking amongst the Clans, and a Top 15 ranking with mainline and Canderous units through in.

All divisions of the Star Force military took part, using the trials to hone their personnel, as well as experiment with new tactics, giving their troops practical experience before being sent out to the warfront. The most experience Regulars, Knights, and Archons were out there, fighting the war, with a few remaining behind to take care of business in Sol, with them occasionally joining in to help their teams or give the newbs a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget.

Rio was arriving with a dropship full of new Clan personnel. About half of them were commandos, but there were also techs and medics, with one administrator and two personnel relations division, who they referred to as either attendants, facilitators, or handlers, based on what task they were assigned to. All of them were new acquires by the Clan, and as such had never been to the Snake Pit before, so Rio didn’t know any less than they did upon landing.

The dropship came down through heavy atmospheric shields into an ‘open air’ landing bay that had more shield than roof covering it. Dozens of dropships were coming and going, most with cargo, but there was a steady stream of personnel transiting back and forth up to one of the starports in orbit. A city/colony of this size had to have a busy link into the transit network, but it still impressed Rio, given the fact that they were in such a remote location…from his point of view, anyway.

Uranus was, to most Star Force personnel, a part of ‘home’ that they considered the Solar System to be. Only to a rookie, who’d lived his entire life on Earth and Mars, would consider the blue/green planet to be ‘remote.’

Rio walked out of the dropship, duffle over his shoulder, along with the others and reported into the processing station where they each received their quarters assignment and information on when and where to report for duty. Unlike with his training, there was no one here to meet, greet, and lead him around. He guessed this was what it was to be a Star Force ‘adult,’ and as overwhelming as the Snake Pit was, with crowded and constant pedestrian traffic, he rather liked the sense of freedom it gave him.

Breaking off from his dropship group, Rio took an impromptu tour through the city as he almost immediately got lost. He had several hours before he was due to report for duty, so he embraced the moment and wandered, crossing through civilian sections and realizing they weren’t Star Force personnel roaming about, but denizens that had come to make the Snake Pit their home. There were business vendors everywhere, along with what looked like a decent amount of tourists, but interspersed amongst them all were the obvious Star Force uniforms, making for an integrated population that moved about within the city, with each person attending to their own duties or prerogatives.

Rio thought about dropping in and catching a movie, but he was carrying his duffle so he thought better of it and kept walking, but did stop to buy a specialty sugar stick, the kind of thing that didn’t come free in Star Force cafeterias. This one was laced with chocolate and other novelties, then twisted up into an exotic design that caught his eye. It cost half a credit, which he pulled from his personal account via his ID card, then he walked off, slowly devouring his treat as he explored the city.

Eventually he got his bearings, with the help of several interactive maps, and moved into one of the Star Force personnel-only sections. It wasn’t long before his curiosity brought him to the gigantic trials complex within the heart of the city, which was itself more of an extravaganza than the entertainment sector had been. There were walkways meandering in and around clear walls that looked down and into the various trials courses, most of which currently had ongoing challenges.

Most were combats between various teams, but some were obstacle courses or other things that required the team to go up against a standard, and then their score would be held up against others. Rio saw that every now and then there were scoreboards superimposed over the windows in hologram, detailing who was currently involved in the challenges and how well they were doing.

Rio saw a hand to hand engagement in full armor taking place between a small group…only a dozen or so on each side. The scoreboard indicated it was his Clan, the Metal Gears, taking on the Ninja Monkeys, with the current score tallied as 123-118. He didn’t know what criteria they were using to mark points, but was glad to see his new Clan on top.

He walked through section after section, taking it all in and resisting the urge to stop and watch, for there were so many. Rio eventually made his way into the aerial division, where he was given holographic battlefields to observe as the pilots, in nearby simulators, fought it out in a variety of engagements, one of which was so large it had to contain several hundred fighters.

After that he passed through a similar section that contained naval engagements, then another for mechs, coming up lastly to the aquatics. That section was split between simulators and several water courses, his favorite of which was the jet boards, which had Regulars and Archons in full body suits riding on what looked like surf boards on top of the water. Their feet were apparently locked in, and they were zipping about tagging targets by hand in some sort of scramble race.

Commando as he was, that looked like so much fun he wished for a moment that he could switch divisions.

“You lost?” a voice asked from behind him.

Rio turned around and his eyes widened as he saw the white uniform with red stripe that denoted an Archon adept.

“No…yes, well, I was, but…I’m just looking around before I report for duty.”

“Commando?”

“Yes. I just graduated.”

“Newb then,” the Archon said, eyes narrowing a bit. “You like the jet boards?”

“I wish we could use them,” he said sarcastically, glancing back at the ongoing challenge.

A confused expression crossed the Archon’s face. “Who do you think that is in there?”

Rio did a double take. “Aquatics?”

“And commandos,” he explained. “Aquatics operate mostly underwater, so being on the surface is kind of a neutral zone between them and the commandos. Sometimes aquatics use the jet boards, sometimes the commandos do, and then sometimes they do mixed challenges, like this one. Clan Mantle commandos are taking on Clan Sneaky Fox aquatics in a non-points match.”

Rio fought back a smirk, for he couldn’t help himself. He’d become familiar with all the names, but hearing the Archon say it in such a serious manner was ironic.

“Something funny?”

“Sorry, Archon. It’s just that some of the Clan names are serious, and then some are…”

“Less so?”

“Exactly.”

The Archon nodded. “Each of the original Archons got to choose their Clan name. Some went for serious, others for ironic or funny. Now, none of them are funny. I look at Clan Sneaky Fox and I see the Clan, its strengths and weaknesses, all the times I’ve engaged them in combat. Only rookies and civilians find it humorous.”

“But why did some of the trailblazers choose funny names in the first place?”

The Archon shrugged. “You’d have to ask them.”

Rio nodded. “Just curious. What Clan are you?”

“Clan Aquaman. You’re a Metal Gear, I assume?”

“Yes, how could you tell?”

“Fresh out of graduation, carrying a duffle…means this is your first assignment. And no rookie goes straight to the trials.”

“Right,” Rio agreed.

“Given that these are your new stomping grounds, I expect you’ll find yourself on a jet board eventually. Just make sure you wear a full suit. You may have had swimming training, but you’ll half drown before you get your feet unlocked from the board if you aren’t aquatics…or really familiar with the boards. So make sure you and your buddies wear the masks.”

“I’ll remember that,” Rio promised.

“Carry on,” the Archon said, walking off.

“Right,” Rio whispered, resetting his duffle over his shoulder and moving on through the aquatics section until he eventually found his way back around to the commando courses. He lingered there, finding more and more new combat variations that he hoped to try at some point, before finally heading off to find his quarters and settle in.

When he finally reported for duty it was a basic information session along with 30 or so other freshly minted commandos. As it turned out, he wasn’t going to have to wait long to get his taste of the trials, for it seemed that Clan Metal Gear favored a 50/50 split between training and combat in the Snake Pit, given that they had the trials facilities on hand. They said that meant the new commandos coming here had an opportunity to rise through the ranks faster than others…so long as they kept up their physical training.

It was an arduous combination, but they hadn’t been recruited by the Clan to take things easy or slow. Rio had been chosen, it seemed, because of his steady progression. Others had been more streaky, rising quickly then plateauing…only to break through and repeat the process. The Metal Gears wanted rookies who could grind their way through training and combat simultaneously, absorbing far more experience than others could in a short period of time, and only those who had a firm grasp on the principles of adaptation and ascension could be expected to survive in that intense environment.

Those that couldn’t would crack and their workouts would tank…then they’d have to reset themselves and get their mojo back on a purely training program. That wasn’t altogether bad, for those that had gone through that process had come out stronger for it in the long run, but it wasn’t the preferred path, and every now and then you’d get a commando that would say they’d had enough and quit, returning to civilian life...but Rio was past that point. He was a commando for keeps, no matter how hard a regimen the Metal Gears put him through.

7

October 12, 2464

Solar System

Uranus

Rio walked out into the ‘Arena’ along with 74 other Metal Gear commandos, each wearing their signature camo green uniforms. The single color motif was broken up by black stripes down the sides of the arms and legs, with black safety sunglasses that looped around the left ear holding a comm piece. Lastly, each of the commandos wore a headband with tails, a bit of a flourish the Clan liked to sport in situations where an opponent couldn’t grab hold of it to gain leverage.

Across the Arena course there was another 75 commandos from Clan Firestorm in their orange uniforms with equally orange safety glasses and earpieces. To Rio’s left in the Arena was the light blue uniformed Clan Saber, and to his right was Clan Kirk in yellow with gold trim. In the middle, separating them all, was an irregular pyramid topped with a finish pedestal. The goal of this challenge was simple…get to the top and press the button to win. Getting there ahead of the others was the challenge, especially when everyone was armed with stingers.

Rio had two pistols, each with a clip of 40 rounds. That made them heavier than usual, and a bit awkward to aim, but he needed the extra clip size because they weren’t allowed to carry spares. That meant once you ran out you had no further ability to hinder the opposing Clans, leaving it as a race to the top, for hand to hand combat was barred in this challenge.

The rest of the Metal Gears had an assortment of weapons, all chosen to maximize their Clan’s chances. Rio was tagged as a rusher, which meant that when the start tone sounded he was to flank the other Clans and try to take down as many of their people as he could while some of his teammates made their way up towards the top, grabbing strongholds as they went. While the pyramid’s highest elevation was at the peak, there were several others enroute, separated by valleys, that offered good sniping positions…which those of his team so equipped would be heading for first off.

It wasn’t a quick climb to the top, but if they didn’t get their snipers in place Clan Saber and Clan Kirk would make more progress than they should, grabbing up additional strongpoints, so the game was as much about hindering your opponents as it was about climbing to the summit. The tricky part was, the Metal Gears couldn’t see Clan Firestorm, for the pyramid was blocking their view and firing lines, meaning they were going to have to trust the other two Clans to keep them hindered, and vice versa.

Rio and the others lined up on the starting grid, 25 wide by three deep, with him on the extreme left flank first in line. He could see the Sabers well off in the distance, for the Arena was absolutely huge, yet only the third largest off all the challenge courses. They were his target, and his first attempt in a counting trial. Before now he’d been running through practice challenges with other Clan Metal Gear commandos, but now the outcome counted in the rankings, and he wanted to do everything he could to measure up…which right now meant shooting Sabers.

The start tone sounded, blaring out across the vast empty chamber as onlookers formed a ring around the top where the observation windows were. Rio took off sprinting while moving to the left, heading for the lowest of the strongpoints…a stubby elevated nook on the lowest level that formed the corner of the pyramid. It wasn’t a high value spot, because other nearby strongpoints were at a higher elevation, and with no roofs the high ground would rule, but he needed to get there in order to get around to the Saber side on the flat before he took to climbing.

The rest of the Metal Gears split up, each heading towards their individual assignments. Nearly all of them were faster than Rio and moved ahead of him, including the other four that were tasked to go after the Sabers. He found himself getting to the mini-fort last, but just in time to see one of his Clan get shot in the chest by a Saber as they both got to the corner at nearly the same time.

Rio brought both pistols up and peppered the area with stingers, catching the Saber with two of them. It was a waste of ammo, but a takedown none the less. He kept his pistols raised as he ran up to the spot and took cover on his side of the strongpoint, wondering how many others were on the other side.

“You’re clear,” he heard in his earpiece. “Get going.”

Rio didn’t bother to respond. Less talk was preferable in an engagement like this. He took two steps and rounded the corner, hanging close to the wall and seeing none of the Sabers ahead of him…at least until he got to the edge of the strongpoint box and the first level of the pyramid came into view, inset as it was from the corners. They were everywhere, all climbing up various routes, with some shooting back at the Metal Gears above his head in the strongpoint they’d claimed.

“Ok, time to get crazy,” he said, sprinting off, not towards the pyramid, but at an angle away from it, drifting back towards the Sabers’ starting position as he headed for the center of their side. No one bothered to shoot at him as he ran, probably because they didn’t want to waste ammunition, and he eventually got to the center and swung about, now fully behind the other Clan and following in their footsteps.

“Point 7 and 9,” he reported, noting the strongpoints where the Sabers were headed for the benefit of the others. After that he picked the closest Sabers and went after them, nowhere near close enough to hit, but gaining ground quickly. He didn’t go unnoticed, and caught the swivel of sniper rifle from one of the lower strongpoints the Sabers had just claimed as it came around to target him.

Rio immediately went into a zigzag, making it difficult for the sniper to steady his aim, and as a result no incoming fire rained down on him. Again, with the limited ammo, it wasn’t worth risking a shot until he got closer…then he was toast.

But fortunately he wasn’t working alone, for as the sniper took aim at him a Metal Gear sniper took aim at him and used several rounds of ammo to take him out, giving Rio a narrow opportunity to get up to the first level of the pyramid and take cover.

He backed up against the wall and caught his breath, then turned left and ran a few steps to one of the ladders, climbing it awkwardly with a pistol in each hand, but he got up and onto the second tier and ran to the closest bit of cover. Fortunately the pyramid wasn’t trim, but rather had a zigzaggy configuration of its own, so now that he was in amongst all the cracks he had a fair chance of getting to at least one of the Sabers before he was taken down.

The problem was the strongpoints. They stuck out and up, allowing good shooting positions to rain down stingers on him and everyone else nearby. Not all of them were claimed, for the higher you got the better, so the Sabers were skipping over most of the lower ones and rushing for the mid-level fortifications. Had Rio a sniper or even a standard rifle he could have taken one of the lower ones and used it to hamper their rise, but he didn’t. Meaning he was going to have to go at it in close range combat.

Remembering where the closest routes were that the Sabers had taken up, for there were many, he hurried his way up from one level to another, pausing where necessary to keep from running into an ambush, though he needn’t have worried, for the Sabers were climbing so fast he was still well behind them. From his vantage point he couldn’t see that, but soon he was to get additional instructions from one of the Metal Gear sniper/spotters.

“Rio, head left four ladders, then up two levels. That should give you a flanking position on a nest of Sabers we’ve got pinned down. Hurry.”

Rio took off running, not bothering to be cautious, and scrambled over to his ladder and climbed, crossed the flat, and climbed again. When he got up it he jogged to the right, both pistols ready, moving in and out of cover as he rounded what were essentially oddly angled corners while trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible. He was out of view of his own snipers most of the time, meaning they couldn’t guide him, so when he came up on the Sabers it was as much of a surprise to him as it was to them.

There were four of them, two of which had their backs to him. He didn’t hesitate when he saw their blue uniforms and started firing as rapidly as he could pull the pair of triggers…

The next thing he knew he was waking up staring at the Arena ceiling, which was a massive set of tiny light bars that he’d never noticed before.

“You with me?” one of his Clan Metal Gear teammates said, snapping his fingers in front of his face.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said, sitting up. “Is it over?”

“Not even close,” the man said, tapping the ground. “Just brought you back. Take this, the Sabers won’t be needing it.”

Rio glanced down and saw the meter-wide square he sat on, recognizing it as a destunning pad. There were several spaced around the pyramid, which meant he’d been dragged over here to be revived. He took the stinger rifle from his teammate, reflexively checking to see how many rounds he had left, which was about 50 or so, given that it looked like half a clip.

“Which side are we on?”

“Metal Gear side. Fighting’s up top, I was assigned to cleanup. Get up there and help where you can.”

“On it,” Rio said, jumping to his feet and feeling the last bit of pins and needles being pulled out of them as he stepped off the pad and searched for the nearest ladder, finding instead a ramp of stone-like steps. He ran up to the next level, then the following 16 before he got up to the back lines of the Metal Gears and into one of their occupied strong points. He crawled over to an open spot on the rim ledge that three others were camped out behind.

He pulled up enough to look out, seeing Sabers poking around the edge of the pyramid and shooting at the Metal Gears climbing up two levels ‘above’ them, but that were now even with the elevated strongpoint he was in.

“Elsa, two on your left,” he said into his comm piece after a blink command into sunglasses, now taking on the role of a spotter.

“Rio, you up for a tandem run?” the commando next to him said, who was also holding a mostly useless standard rifle at their current range to targets.

“Take point,” he agreed, following the more experienced commando out and down the stairs to the level below, then over to a ladder where they began to make their way up, with Rio loving every moment of it.

8 years later Rio was with his Metal Gear teammates, this time one of the experienced ones…well, more experienced, for they had a considerable amount of newbs with them, climbing up the Arena pyramid and near to the top with four shots left in his stinger pistol, one that he’d picked up off a stunned Clan Skystrike commando three levels down. He’d been climbing unarmed before that, with half of the Metal Gears remaining having run out of ammo. Pretty soon now and it would turn into a pure footrace…one that he intended to win.

He wasn’t the highest up, at least four others were ahead of him, but the odds of them making it were slim. There was a fierce firefight taking place near the top, with one of the Clans trying to punch out the others by running them out of ammunition and forcing the issue by mounting a surging climb that the others had to counter. Something was about to break, and from past experience it usually meant a lot of stunned bodies being climbed over by a lucky few survivors that stayed hidden amongst the nooks.

In order to beat them he had to get up there first, which meant running the gauntlet. Rio wouldn’t be the only one of his Clan doing so, but with a few flankers designated to guard duty he had a decent shot of making it up…or helping one of the others do the same.

Rio scrambled as quick as he could, hearing the whiffs of stinger fire starting to wither out, and came up behind one of his Clansmen who waved him on while maintaining a specific firing line. Rio went without hesitation and climbed up the ladder, hearing the other commando fire off two shots, followed by the ‘thump’ of a body falling nearby. This close to the top each side was getting progressively narrower, meaning less of a divide between the four Clans.

Rio made it up to the fourth level from the top before he got caught up in a firefight that left his right arm numb. Fortunately all commandos were trained to shoot equally well with both hands, and he switched over to his left and kept on climbing. When he got up to the third level he saw a Clan Thunderfist commando reach the top…then immediately get hit by three stingers from three different shooters. She dropped and rolled off the flat top down to the first level and out of sight as one of Rio’s teammates caught up to him and hunkered down by his side.

“What do you think?”

“Still hot up here.”

“I’ll lead you up to two.”

“Alright,” Rio said, following him over to the steps. “Go.”

The two of them sprinted up, rounding the curve in the climb as the other commando fired off a couple of shots before getting stunned himself. Rio hurdled him and jumped head first up onto the next level, crawling up next to the wall for cover, now being two more climbs from the top…but that wasn’t his destination. He was here to help the others up, and with only a handful of meters on either side of him this was the end zone where everything got dicey, for the other Clans were almost within touching range.

Sitting in the middle wasn’t going to offer much help, so Rio moved around a pointy section to the far left where he set up, able to snipe down onto the Skystrike side if need be, or around onto the same level to…

His pistol came up and fired a single shot that nailed a Skystrike in the chest who noticed him a split second too late. He went down next to a ladder, then Rio made a snap decision and abandoned his post. He ran over to the downed commando and knelt next to the ladder and man, appropriating his pistol and checking the clip count. It only had two shots left, compared to his three, so he let it lay, unable to use his right hand to dual wield.

With the area behind him being friendly territory, he took a chance and climbed the ladder, hoping not to get shot in the back, and climbed up belly first over the edge to stay low. Now there was only one climb left to get to the summit, he was ever so close…which was why he fought the urge to jump up to the top and win the challenge for his Clan. He’d be toast the moment he exposed himself, for they surely still had snipers in play, just as the Metal Gears had.

So he played guard, watching for the next Skystrike to come up and gunning him down with a shot to the head. There were only two ways up, short of jumping and clinging to the edge…which was almost impossible to do with gun in hand, though that hadn’t stopped them from doing it before.

“Skystrike side is secured,” he reported via comm. “Someone get up top.”

“Where are you?”

“Level 1, and I have two stingers left. Hurry,” Rio whispered.

“On it,” Dagan answered.

Rio held position, shooting another Skystrike that came up on his right, leaving him with one shot, then his comm line activated again.

“Rio, Thunderfist is almost up. Go now!”

“Damn it,” he said, dropping his pistol and jumping up directly to the top and grabbing onto the edge of the wall with both hands, forcing his right to suffer through the pins and needles that were now exploding through the denumbing process. The last climb had no stairs, so this was his only option.

Pulling mostly with his left, he got his chest up over top of the flat ‘roof’, seeing two other commandos coming up on the left and far sides. The left one went down to a sniper immediately, leaving just the other to finish climbing up while the two corner boxes, at equal height and a gap of several meters from the top platform, watched on.

Rio got his left leg up and rolled onto the top, then crawled forward as the Thunderfist commando got shot in the leg by a Metal Gear sniper. Keeping low, Rio got over to the pedestal a second before the other commando and slapped his left hand down on the top, pressing the finish button and triggering the blue lighting and end of challenge tone to sound.

The Thunderfist dragged himself up on the pedestal and nodded at Rio.

“Nice job, scum,” he joked.

Rio laughed, and poked the commando in the chest. “Metal Gears have to win. It’s embarrassing if we get beat in our own facility.”

“I’ll try to arrange that next time.”

“You will try,” Rio said, slipping an arm under his shoulders to help him walk with the numb leg.

8

After he and the other Metal Gears evacuated the Arena to let the cleaning crews do a quick job of readying the course for the next challenge, Rio went up to the viewing area and checked out the primary scoreboard detailing the status of all Clans, Star Force mainline units, and Canderian units taking part in the trials…not just here, but across the star system.

The points gained for winning the Arena challenge were small, but they added just a bit more to the Metal Gears’ overall count, which spanned the previous 5 years, helping to secure their position as the 3rd rated commando Clan. Neither the mainline units nor Canderous currently topped them, though the later’s top ranked trials Legion was currently in 4th and nipping away at their heels.

The Canderians had several different tiers of warriors within the trials, which they referred to as ‘Legions’ despite the fact they weren’t structured quite the same as their standard Legions, but they weren’t spread out evenly as the Clans more or less were. They were stacked with the best they had into the Alpha Legion, and they were giving the Metal Gears all they could handle.

They hadn’t gone up against each other for some time, and the Alpha Legion wasn’t on the Snake Pit, but their Gamma Legion was. They were familiar opponents who sought to gain points through running challenge after challenge, figuring they had little to lose so long as Alpha Legion upheld the honor of Canderous. At least that’s what Rio had been told by one of their commandos, but he may have just been making excuses for getting beat at the time. Still, he’d said the other Legions in the trials were more for training purposes, with the Alphas being the prime contenders.

That made some sense to Rio, but given that the Legions were being given equal status with a Clan, he didn’t see how the Gammas could all be second rate commandos, for they were beating 6 of the Clans at present. The mainline units, each large enough to merit ‘Clan’ status in the trials, were currently 68 in number, with additional ones being added as the military grew. Some of them were elite units, he knew, with the 8th army ranking 7th overall in commandos and 17th in mechs, with a less than auspicious 72nd in aerial.

Their 3rd army had the best aerial rank at 18th, with the Clans claiming the top 17 spots. Canderous only had one aerial unit, which they designated as part of Beta Legion, signifying that they didn’t truly consider it a fair contest, given that they were a space-faring civilization with little aerial assets. Their naval scores, on the other hand, had Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta Legions all in the top 50, where they employed their unique remote controlled starfighters in the simulated naval challenges.

Mainline fleets, which were separate entities from mainline armies, held their own against the Canderians and maintained two spots in the top 10, though Paul’s Sabers still maintained their lock on the top spot, with Roger’s Emerald Sharks and Liam’s Neon Squirrels occasionally knocking them off the thrown, only to have the Sabers reclaim it in short order. Behind those three there was a large gap that no one else seemed capable of bridging.

Metal Gear was currently ranked 34th in naval, 52nd in aquatics, 78th in aerial, and 82nd in mechs…which were all top half marks, making the Clan well rounded, unlike, say, Clan Aquaman who held the number 1 ranking in aquatics, but didn’t have their other four divisions inside the top 80 Clan or top 120 overall. They were what was known as a ‘specialized’ Clan, but even still they had good Regulars and Archons in their other divisions, it was just that the competition in the trials was so fierce that if you didn’t put everything you had into developing all your divisions the specialists would eat you alive.

That was the way it was meant to be, with Clan Metal Gear striving to be a full contender, but maintaining its commando pride. As he’d learned, the recruitment process the Clans used was spread out across all disciplines, so if you bid heavily in one area, you had less to bid in others. Now, that was just to attain recruits, and didn’t affect how you trained them afterwards, but there was still a lot of strategy in making the picks, which made Rio overly proud that Metal Gear had chosen him at all, let alone as a commando.

He’d been working hard to live up to their faith in his mettle, and like the others was always eager to monitor their Clan’s progress across all fronts…which left the scoreboard area rather congested, so once he’d taken a quick status check of everything he wanted to see he gently nudged his way past the crowd and out into the traffic flow.

Rio, hold up.

He hadn’t been on the receiving end of too many telepathic communications, but the existence of such things had been made aware to him when he’d reached commando level 5 a few years aback. Since then he’d only been spoken to twice in this form, and it still left him a bit shocked when he heard the Archon’s voice inside his head.

Rio stopped walking and waited for his unseen contact, who appeared some 15 seconds later in the crowd flow and motioned for him to step off to the side. The commando took up a spot on one of the commando course observation windows in his camo green casual uniform as the Archon stepped up beside him in his white with silver trim counterpart.

“Nice grab,” the Archon said, referring to the challenge win. “We can always use the points.”

“Thank you,” Rio said, glancing back and forth between the man and the ongoing battle below.

“My name is Durango-12833. I’m putting together a volunteer unit and your name was brought to my attention. I hear you’re eager for a field assignment?”

Rio’s eyes widened. “Yes I am.”

“Word hasn’t reached the main news yet,” Durango said, lowering his voice a bit as he watched the commandos below fighting it out across a series of fences, “but the Protovic have come under attack. They played it cool early on when the Nestafar switched sides, given that they were their benefactor within the Alliance, but once the Calavari and Nestafar bloodied themselves the Protovic stepped in and safeguarded a handful of Calavari systems along their border. They’re actively fighting the Nestafar there, trying to secure fallback points for the Calavari as the lizards push in, but now they’ve been hit by someone else and are requesting assistance from the Alliance.”

“Not us specifically?”

“No, but so far no one else has been in a position to respond. Everyone is caught up fighting the lizard incursion or covering their own asses. Star Force doesn’t have much to spare, or at least the mainline units don’t. Trailblazer Kip has decided to go to their relief, but doesn’t think that Clan Protoss is strong enough on its own, so he asked Metal Gear to join him. We’ve agreed, and are rounding up as many personnel as we can spare without hurting current deployments.”

“Do you think I’m ready?” Rio asked, a bit concerned.

Durango nodded. “Ready enough. Several of the Protovic’s worlds are under assault, so there will be a lot of opportunities for ground combat. We won’t send you in to get slaughtered, but there should be plenty of cleanup missions where we could put you and other lower ranking commandos to use. The question is, do you feel ready?”

“If I can’t fight lizards, I’ll happily fight their allies. You can count me in.”

The Archon shook his head. “No. The Nestafar aren’t hitting the Protovic territories. The Skarrons are. The bottom end of Zeta Region where it borders Beta is a chaotic mess right now. The Nestafar used to be the major power in the region, and now that their strength is severely depleted other races are making a play for territory and influence. The Skarrons are exploiting the Protovic’s weakness, given that they’ve deployed a significant portion of their military to safeguard the Calavari worlds, and we intend to fill that hole in their defenses.”

Rio nodded his understanding. He didn’t know a lot about the Skarrons, but knew they were a major force coreward of Star Force territory.

“What do they look like?”

“Big and slow quadrupeds with just as many arms. Think elephant and you’ll be close. They can’t match your leg speed, so keep at range and gun them down. They also have two slave races that are much smaller. One isn’t used for combat, the other fights as skirmishers and escorts. They’re quick, but about half your size and biped. It’ll be a different type of combat compared to what you’ve seen on vids of the lizards and Nestafar, but we’ll learn on the go and adapt. You still want in?”

“If you think I can be of use, then yes.”

“It won’t be a mission, it’ll be a campaign. I can’t say when you’ll see Star Force space again.”

“Years?”

“At minimum.”

Rio sighed, realizing what this meant. “I’m here to serve the Clan. If you need me, I’m yours.”

Durango smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man. We leave to rendezvous with the jumpship in 10 days. Have you got a custom set of armor yet?”

“Yes.”

“Bring it. We’ll have spares, but I hate using generic armor. Never seems to fit just right. I’ll have transfer orders waiting for you by tomorrow at the latest,” Durango said, mixing back into the crowd and off to round up more recruits.

Rio turned back to the window, but as his eyes fell on the commandos below his mind was elsewhere. This was what he had been wanting all along, he just didn’t think it would come this soon, or in this fashion. The Skarrons were an entirely different enemy, one that Star Force hadn’t fought before…or at least he didn’t think so. He had some database research to do tonight, learn more about the new enemy…and the ally they were going to the aid of.

It wasn’t until several hours later, when he finally sat down at the computer terminal in his quarters and accessed the restricted files granted to him given his commando status, that he realized just who the Protovic were. He’d known they were part of the Alliance, but he had thought they were a minor player…and they were, compared to the Calavari, Bsidd, Kvash, and Hycre, but he hadn’t even considered the possibility that they were stronger than Star Force.

They had an estimated population of 5 trillion clustered into a dense set of star systems, slightly less than what Star Force currently inhabited, but so much closer together that they were easier to reinforce. They formed an egg-shaped knot of systems that ran parallel to Star Force territory in Beta Region, with the Hycre and dozens of smaller races’ territories stretched out between.

Their fleet was estimated to be three times the size of Star Force’s, which explained to Rio why one Clan wasn’t going to be enough. Each of the Clans was now a monstrous empire of its own, but compared to the size of the Protovic they were still tiny. Sending two would provide enough of a force to assist the aliens in defending their territory, but if they were getting hit, and hit hard by the Skarrons, then there wasn’t a lot that Star Force was going to be able to do…unless their presence would tip the scales one way or the other.

But that didn’t deter Rio. Even if they were smaller, Star Force could give better than they looked numerically. He was both excited and scared to the point his hands were starting to shake…which was when he forced himself to sit back, take a few long breaths, and get his focus. An ally was under attack, and they were going to help them defend their territory. He didn’t need to know the overall tactical situation…they had Archons for that. All he needed was a mission and the means to carry it out, which he would be given at the time.

Rio didn’t care if it was picking up trash, if it helped his Clan aid the Protovic then it was worth his going. He assumed his training would continue in between missions. Jumpships had training facilities, after all, and there was no way the Archons would be caught dead not able to do their workouts…so they had to have those things covered.

Durango, whom he’d known about previously, though never having met the Archon, had said there would be plenty of opportunity for ground combat because several planets, or systems, had been attacked by the Skarrons. That meant he’d be fighting on the ground defending Protovic facilities and people? What did they even look like?

Unfortunately the files didn’t say, for the only pictures were of them in their environment suits. They looked Human, right down to the five digits on their hands, but there was no telling what was underneath that armor…or was it armor? A light version, maybe.

Rio brought up the analysis of their military strength, seeing several notations for their piloting skill. Their warships were larger and more powerful, though slightly less technologically advanced, with them employing Calavari-designed Valeries both in space and in-atmosphere. Their ground troops were less robust, but what they lacked in vehicular strength they made up for in speed, utilizing a slew of anti-grav tanks that, according to a note in the file, fared poorly against the Nestafar walkers except for when they swarmed them with overwhelming numbers.

Nothing was mentioned about aquatics, and Rio knew that not all races had them, just as Star Force didn’t have a starfighter division. The Protovic planets, it seemed, were mostly lifeless ones. Barren rocks with breathable atmosphere into which they burrowed underground to build more than half of their infrastructure.

So would the Clans be fighting underground or on the surface? He wasn’t sure of that, hell, he couldn’t be sure of anything at this point, but if he didn’t start running the data through his head he’d go nuts imagining things.

Halfway through his research he suddenly remembered that he needed to shoot off a message to Julie, Raven, and Styk, especially if this was the last time he got to talk with them for a few years. Messages could travel via jumpship, he knew, but if they were traveling into another race’s territory, odds were there wasn’t going to be a lot of back and forth comms, meaning any message sent might take months, if not a year to make it from origin to destination.

All three commandos were current in mainline units. Julie was on Mars, Raven on Ganymede, and Styk on Titan. All were progressing through the trials like Rio was, but so far none of them had seen real combat. They were assigned to defensive/training units that were a mix of veterans and rookies kept here to safeguard Sol along with a few elite units. The rest were out system, either defending Star Force territory or engaging the enemy on one of the two fronts.

It seemed odd that he was going to see action before them, for their levels were all above his. He was a level 9 commando now, with Julie a 14, Styk a 15, and Raven a 17. If they weren’t ready to fight, then how could he be?

Different units, different situations, he figured. He was in a Clan, after all, and the Clans had a reputation for being a bit more reckless than the mainline units. But if an Archon had specifically requested him, then that was good enough for Rio. He just wished the others could be out there fighting alongside him.

But he wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to gloat a little, so he got about the business of recording a vid message for the three of them and sent copies out to each. With luck they might respond before he left the system. If not, then so be it. This was the life of a commando…they went where they were needed and when they were needed, and even though he didn’t fully understand it, Clan Metal Gear needed him out on the frontier fighting an altogether new set of aliens.

Still grinning from ear to ear, he got the transfer order while he was researching the other races in Zeta Region, confirming what Durango had told him. As of now he was on leave until his designated report date arrived, with instructions on where to go included. Until then, a small side note said, it was best if he transitioned over to a full training routine, for that’s what he would be operating under once onboard the jumpship.

Rio knew what that meant, and with a few hours still left in the day he exited his quarters and headed for the track to get a couple of extra miles in, for there was going to be a lot of running, sparring, and agility workouts in his future, and he needed to adjust his stamina accordingly away from the ‘easy’ challenge routine that didn’t require as much of his daily energy.

A few days of long workouts and some extra ambrosia doses and he would be fine, but he was going to play it safe and take the note’s advice. This was the moment he’d been waiting for, and he was going to make every effort he could to overcome his low ranking and prove himself worthy once again.

This time, though, the firefights were going to be real…and very unforgiving.

9

February 21, 2465

Krichjan System (Zeta Region)

Eshwan

Kip-022 stood onboard his flagship Tassadar as it decelerated against the Protovic planet Eshwan, getting telaris sensor feeds enroute that detailed the position of the ships in orbit before the Warship-class jumpship had a chance to accidentally bump into them. The computer detected several within proximity along their jumpline, but none in direct blockage. Still, it queried the pilot who made a quick change to their approach, using other gravity wells in the system to steer the warship a bit lower than planet center to give them a wider berth.

Simultaneously that information was transmitted back to the following jumpships via telaris comms, giving them a very brief heads up and allowing them to make the course corrections as well. When the Tassadar finally stopped its massive momentum coming off the system’s central star, it had a good look at the blue/brown planet and all the Protovic ships in orbit on the near side, but nothing from behind…until two other Clan Protoss warships jumped in on different jumplines, forming a rough triangle that, with their current altitude over the planet, allowed them to communicate via line of sight and produce a combined map of the planet’s surface and orbit in a matter of seconds.

Kip saw that map pop up in front of his command chair, with a scattering of dots coming in behind the Tassadar that made up the rest of his assault fleet. They were making staggered jumps, ensuring that none of the massive jumpships ran into each other upon deceleration, so it was going to take several minutes for them all to arrive.

Fortunately it looked like the Protovic had reclaimed orbit from the Skarrons, for none of their ships were visible…though he couldn’t say that about the rest of the system. Even with the telaris sensors, which were 3 times as fast as lightspeed, it would take minutes to get feedback from the other planets, and given the range only very large targets would show up, meaning the enemy could still be hiding out there and they might not know it until they dropped in on the newly arrived reinforcements.

But since the Protovic fleet was here, there was an easy way to find out.

Kip hit a button on his command chair linked to a preprogrammed comm channel and spoke in the trade language.

“This is Kip-022, commander of the Star Force fleet arriving in planetary orbit. Per your request we are here to assist with the defensive effort against the Skarron incursion. What is the current status of the system?” he asked as the sensors began mapping out grounded troops on the planetary holo that was becoming more complex by the second as his crews started pulling tighter sensor scans.

A hologram of a seated Protovic superimposed in front of the planetary diagram, mimicking Kip’s posture, save for the fact that the alien wore his full body suit, making Kip unable to see so much as an inch of skin.

“Sarnor Tel’nash’gi,” he identified himself, using their fleet commander title. “I am surprised to see you here, but most welcome that you have come. We had thought the Alliance had abandoned us.”

“I don’t know about the Alliance, but I have a small fleet with ground troops ready to assist,” Kip said as the Star Force warship count passed 30 and continued to rise as more arrived at the planet. “The last report I received said this planet had been overrun?”

“Not entirely, though we had lost control of orbit. The fleet you see now is mostly comprised of reinforcements we pulled back in from Calavari territory, which we used to drive off the Skarrons, but as far as we can tell they haven’t left the system. We have a few monitoring stations around the star, and they haven’t been seen jumping out.”

“How many?”

“50 or 60 ships remain, with two juggernauts amongst them.”

Kip frowned. “I’m unfamiliar with that vessel.”

The Protovic motioned to someone off holo. “I’m sending you all the intel we have on the Skarrons. If you have anything to add please do, our knowledge of them is limited. They’ve never ventured this far out from the core before…at least not that I’m aware of.”

“Thank you. We have some knowledge of them, but have never come into direct contact. Our most coreward territory has a decent boundary zone, and so far they’ve not come too close.”

“I would warn you to be wary. They are thirsty for conquest,” the Protovic fleet commander said as the information came through, with the Tassadar’s crew immediately sending it to Kip’s command chair. With the telekinetic touch of a button he brought up a secondary hologram beside the Protovic and glanced at the files, with the warship classes having been tagged by his crew a moment ago.

“Did you engage the juggernauts?” Kip asked, highlighting the largest ship they had. It looked like an old school Star Force command ship, donut shaped, except that this donut had been stomped on repeatedly, with the hull broken and peeled up in numerous spots with extra pylons added, looking somewhat familiar to the Skarrons themselves with their gangly arms.

The Protovic nodded. “Yes, and destroyed one. They are slow, but are armed with long range weapons. One has to get in close, where their point defenses are weak, and slug it out with them…which their escort ships prevented the defending fleet from doing. My fleet was better equipped, and once we exploited their weakness the other two retreated.”

“Have you tried to hunt them down?”

“My priority has been to safeguard our three inhabited worlds…this planet, its moon, and the fourth planet in the system where I have a fifth of my fleet on patrol. If they engage them there we should be able to reposition in time to intercept them, but I don’t have enough ships to stand guard and hunt them down simultaneously. Also, I have no idea of knowing if or when they might receive reinforcements.”

“We have some experience with hunting down ships. Do you mind if I have a try at it?”

The Protovic nodded gratefully. “Please do, but it’s the situation on Eshwan that is our primary concern. The Skarrons had already landed their armies by the time I arrived, and our ground defense has been less than adequate. They’ve taken a third of the planet and are pushing for more. Are you able to assist on the ground as well?”

“Are they only on Eshwan?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll land my troops then go hunting for their fleet. Can you give me a planetary map with priorities highlighted. If they’re getting close to something they shouldn’t be we’ll hit them there, otherwise I’ll land in their backwater and start causing trouble.”

“I will provide a map, but our primary problem is with their walkers. They have several varieties of enormous size, greater even than those of the Nestafar, that our troops are having difficulty stopping. They’re quite frankly walking straight through our defense lines. They’re slow and heavily armored, almost to the point of immobility…but they have significant anti-air defenses.”

“Are your warships capable of atmospheric combat?”

The Protovic shook his head. “Capable yes, but not designed for it. I already tried that tactic, and nearly lost a corvette. They have grapple technology, anti-grav in nature, I believe, and will yank any large targets out of the sky. My ship hit ground before it was able to flee, but only after our Valeries took out several tethers, allowing it to escape. I’ve never seen anything like this weapon before.”

“We’ve heard rumors, and we’ve brought along some specialty equipment to deal with their walkers.  We also have orbital bombardment capability if we can catch them in the open.”

“So I’ve heard. My own attempts to do so have failed, though we use guided missiles. You use unguided mass?”

“Well aimed mass, yes. And we’ve had a lot of practice with it.”

“What’s your accuracy range?”

“I can safely land a slug within a radius of 2 kilometers, and probably within 200 meters,” Kip said, using the trade language conversions.

“Which is only good if we can catch them out in the open, en mass,” the Protovic said with obvious disappointment. “You can’t pinpoint target troops within cities.”

“No. It’s designed for large, shielded targets mostly.”

“The Skarrons are using none. They’ve established no bases, and are continuously on the move.”

“Supply lines?”

“Convoys that follow the troops. We’ve tried to get at them, but they’re well-guarded. The Skarrons dropped an enormous amount of troops and supplies on planet. With what they’re also capturing from us, we don’t have much hope of waiting them out.”

“Have they been resupplied yet?”

“Twice. The second time only a single ship got through. That was four months ago.”

“What are their primary targets?”

“They appear to have none. They’re wiping our population out region by region. We’re evacuating what we can, but we estimate over 2 billion have already been killed.”

Kip closed his eyes and sighed. This was a full planetary assault, and he didn’t have nearly enough troops to fight it back on their own, so the best he could hope for was to do some damage, maybe take out some key Skarron units that would help the Protovic lines hold, or at least delay their collapse. In orbit was another story, and with the combined Star Force/Protovic fleet they had a good chance of keeping any additional Skarron reinforcements from landing…but there was no way of knowing how many more Skarron ships were enroute.

That meant this was going to get interesting, and he was going to have to play it by ear.

“Send me all the planetary data you think relevant. I’ll have troops on the ground within a few hours.”

“You have transport ships in addition to your warships?”

“We do.”

“You may leave them in our care, if you wish, while you pursue the enemy. My fleet has done little but sit in place since the first battle.”

“Thank you.”

“No, it is I who thank you. I’ve been having to watch as the planet under my care is slowly being conquered by the enemy. I don’t know if your troops will turn the tide, but at least now we have a bit of hope to work with.”

“Let’s get to work then…and you’re welcome.”

This is it, Rio thought as he boarded one of the Dragon-class dropships and squeezed into the passenger hold along with hundreds of other Metal Gear commandos, Knights, and Archons. He wore his full armor, appropriately colored camo green, as did the others. On his back he wore a rack, no pack, with a lachar sniper rifle, plasma rifle, and a pair of pistols, one plasma, one stinger. At the bottom of the rack was a small spare ammo compartment, but other than that he was left free to move without the weight of additional supplies.

Very few of them were seated, with most of the Clan troops standing to get as many inside as possible. More were back in the cargo section between the supplies. Should the dropship get hit by enemy fire they’d lose a lot of people when it went down…or at least if it went down and its inertial dampeners failed. If they held up there was a chance they’d survive impact…

No, he had to stop thinking like this. Star Force wouldn’t pack them in so tight knowing that they would be an easy target. The reverse, rather, and the tight fit meant they were confident they were going to get to ground. So until that happened he just needed to wait and watch.

The trip down to the planet was boring beyond words. He couldn’t feel the inertial swings of the dropship leaving the jumpship bay, nor could he watch it on vid screens, packed as they were, so he just stared at the back of the helmet in front of him and the pair of weapons bracketing it until he finally got the go order through his comm.

“We’re on the ground. Commence with deployment…and watch your step, it’s a mess out there.”

Adrenaline spiked through Rio’s body, but he held still, for there were too many people packed in around him for them all to leave at once. When the crowd thinned he followed the others out a side door and down an extendable staircase to the ground…that was strewn with debris.

Forcing himself not to stop and gawk, he continued down the line looking out over the devastation that had once been a Protovic city. Not a building remained standing, only pieces were visible, strewn here and there, as if a monster tornado had come through and ripped everything to shreds…along with delivering plasma burns.

A waypoint beacon pulsed on his battlemap, with Rio following it after he got down the stairs and off the dropship. He and several other commandos milled about in a spot between dozens of dropships that set down in a giant double line, staggered to find available landing spots. Out of them, Rio watched mechs walk forward and trek off into the city remains, pushing out to establish a perimeter while more dropships continued to come down.

Soon cargo haulers, compact little vehicles with powerful anti-grav engines and grapples, began unloading giant metallic cubes and setting them into clearings that bulldozers began to expand upon. Rio knew those were the building blocks for a prefab firebase, and watched as the first of them was activated.

It broke down into pieces, like a giant transformer, and flattened out into a floor and wall segment many times wider than the cube had originally been, forming an L-shaped piece that another cube was sat down next to. It was briefly attached at the floor, then it too transformed and added to the wall, making another 50 meters or so of the barrier and a large section of floor that was extra thick, for it contained support equipment.

One by one more cubes were added, both to the sides and the floor, extending it inward while creating various buildings, some of which required a second cube to be set on top by the cargo haulers. Bit by bit an impromptu base was established, with Rio and his fellow commando group waiting for orders until the last cube transformed and locked into place, then they got a waypoint at one of the four gates, indicating that they needed to move.

Rio followed in a two man wide line as they jogged up to the entrance, getting there just in time to see the doors grind open and the bubble shield activate over top. It dropped to the ground before them, then the portion over the doors disappeared, allowing them access. They ran inside to another waypoint, whereupon they received their orders…this time through a text message that appeared on the HUD of Rio’s helmet.

He split off from the others, moving to a position on the wall that had a lookout post with an enclosed canopy. His orders said to take that position and stand guard, watching the surrounding area…which had an awful lot of cover for bad guys to hide in, not to mention any underground structures.

Rio walked inside, with the wall doubling as a narrow walkway that shielded him from view from the waist down, and took a seat on a stool-like bench and started to visually scan the area behind a second shield that doubled as a window. He experimentally put his hand through, feeling the shield crackle around his armored glove. It was a combination energy/physical shield, with the physical aspect set to only repel fast moving objects.

The bubble shield that lay some 30 meters further out was the hard variety, and no weaponsfire from Rio was going to get through it. That said, the generator wasn’t overly strong, so the bubble would go down after a decent amount of pounding, after which it’d be up to him and the other defenders to hold off the enemy from the supplies that the base was being loaded up with…not to mention the restrooms, shower facilities, bunks, and cafeterias that were inside, none of which you wanted to be without for long in the field.

Combat teams would be cycling back here from missions, meaning this was a proximal firebase. If/when the battle lines were moved forward it could be broken back down into cubes and repositioned, making Rio wonder just how close they were to the fighting. There were no enemy fighters visible, but maybe that had to do with the squadrons of skeets protecting the dropships as they continued to come down in an unending stream of reinforcements.

Rio pulled off his sniper rifle and poked it through his lookout post’s shield, with the protective energy reforming around the barrel. He used the zoom and his vantage point up high to scan the area in the direction he saw some of the mechs moving. A lot of the view was broken building, but several long gaps gave him miles worth of view, and in one of those breaks he saw additional mechs engaged with some type of enemy.

Rio blinked, realizing that they must have been set down in another group, and his was here merely as supply support. That was fine by him, he was happy to help in any way, but he wondered where exactly the enemy was and why he couldn’t see any fighters in the sky.

Then his scope caught a bit of motion in closer, and he adjusted the zoom back to the ruins around the base where he caught the motion again, seeing a waving hand in the building debris more than half a mile away. He sighted in on it, seeing a Human-like figure, but one with fluorescent skin that shown a dull green/purple.

Feathering the barrel every so carefully he zoomed in again and got a decent look at the person’s face, seeing what looked like burn marks on the left half, but he confirmed that it had a head, two arms, and a torso that appeared to fit inside the pictures he’d seen of Protovic armor.

“Nemmal, comm on,” he said, using the voice commands so he could keep both hands on the rifle and keep his eye on the individual, who was continuing to wave furiously. Once the comm activated he used eye line commands and blinks to highlight a direct frequency to the commando tagged as the base commander.

“I have contact with what I think is a Protovic native. He’s wearing no armor and waving at us from the rubble.”

“Where?”

In response, Rio synced his rifle’s scope to his HUD and laid down a waypoint on the battlemap.

10

The Protovic survivor and four others found nearby were brought into the Star Force base and quickly interrogated. Fortunately some of the commandos could speak the trade language, for Rio knew only 50 or so words, which he didn’t deem sufficient to make first contact with an alien. He stayed at his post, but kept glancing back inside at the Protovic, for they were the first non-Humans he had ever seen.

They wore clothing that appeared metallic, but by the way it moved he figured it was just shiny cloth. It had holes in it, on each of the five they had brought in through the gate, two of which were still outdoors within the courtyard created by the four base walls, while the other three had been taken inside one of the buildings which Rio knew to be a medical station. The two outside were Human height, but aside from their glowing flesh their eyes stood out, even at a distance. They literally burned neon purple, making their allies look altogether freaky.

He didn’t let his attention linger on them for long, for he had a perimeter to watch. There were other commandos on the wall at various points, some behind heavy weapons batteries, and all were entrusted to safeguard this tiny bit of Star Force territory on the planet. Already one mechwarrior had returned…missing her mech. She’d returned on foot and taken shelter inside, looking overly haggard. Rio didn’t have a line of sight on where the fighting was taking place at present, but every now and then he’d see a bit of it as weaponsfire passed through the gaps in the rubble.

After a couple of hours another commando came up and relieved him, with Rio leaving his sniper rifle in the lookout post for the other to use, seeing that he carried none. With his other weapons locked onto his back rack he sat down on the inner ledge of the wall and pivoted his butt around, dropping off until he caught his hands and hung on the inside for a moment to kill his momentum, then he let go and dropped several meters to the ground.

His feet hit and he absorbed the impact as he’d done in training hundreds, if not thousands of times before. Normally he would have had to roll out of it to bleed the last bit of compression off, but the gravity here was a bit below normal, allowing him to stick the landing and walk it off into the building cluster, with the ‘ground’ he was striding across being a synthetic compound designed to give slightly, but able to support a mech’s weight without cracking.

There was a wide open area next to the wall, well wide enough for a mech to walk through, then there were the buildings mounted on top of the ‘ground’ that held numerous support lines…power, sewage, water, comm…not to mention the plasma that fed the corner turrets, which was produced in a generator in the interior, allowing the turrets to pivot about more freely without all that mass weighing them down.

When Rio crossed into the pedestrian walkways in between the single and two story buildings he caught a glimpse of the Protovic pair as they entered a doorway ahead of him. His eyes weren’t failing him before…their skin was actually glowing, visible even in the daylight.

He walked by the building they’d entered, throwing a glance inside as he passed, then he headed for the barracks, only to get stopped on the way there by another camo green armored soldier.

“Rio, you up for some action?” Dravic asked.

“Always,” he answered the level 23 commando.

“We’ve spotted some skirmishers in the rubble. I’m making a running patrol through some of the areas the spotters can’t see. Mission is to kill and/or flush them out, as well as recon the area to see how many are out there. Our Protovic friends seem to think they were sent to hunt them down, not us.”

“We going underground?”

Dravic shook his head. “Not worth the effort. If they’re down there, and come up, then they’re our problem.”

“What about the shield?”

“It’ll be raised enough to give the wall guards firing lines.”

“How many of us?”

“Just you and me…if you can keep up?”

Rio pulled his plasma rifle off his back. “Lead on.”

Dravic didn’t waste any more time talking and took off at a jog through the buildings, then accelerated up into a decent run when they hit the exposed ring just inside the wall. Rio stayed with him easy enough, knowing the tricky part was going to be navigating the debris…but if he was only following it shouldn’t be a problem, even in armor, because there weren’t going to be any long clearings to get up to top speed in.

The double doors in the south wall ground open partway, just enough for the pair to slip out, then they closed again as the commandos ran single file out and over the mound of dirt/debris that the dozers had pushed out to clear the base plain. Once over that Rio followed the more experienced commando out and down behind a section of round building that had once been a tower, crossing under the top half that was laying across their path, leaving a small triangular opening for them to pass through.

Almost immediately after crossing under, Rio saw Dravic fire off a quick shot, downing a target that the pair then ran after. They hesitated only slightly as they passed it, confirming that the small alien was dead, with a plasma burn on its rounded chest. It had a flat head that made it look like it was wearing a decorative halo, with four eyes spread across it on the front half, giving it considerable lateral vision.

Two arms and two legs made it a biped, but more than that Rio didn’t have time to learn. The pair moved on for another five seconds before two more of them came into view, then bolted…with the second one firing a tiny spec of white plasma back at Dravic that was absorbed by his armor’s shields.

The little things moved fast, and Dravic picked up his pace into full pursuit mode, with Rio struggling just to keep up. He had the advantage of only having to match the other’s steps rather than choose them, so he managed to stay within two meters of his partner as they chased the pair of aliens further south before they suddenly turned to the east.

Dravic winged one, with it limping behind enough that he was able to finish it with another pair of shots on the run. Rio jumped over its corpse as they kept after the other, then a few steps later Dravic was covered in little white flashes as the two of them ran into an ambush. On reflex both commandos went evasive, with them parting ways. Rio went right and Dravic went left, with both of them staying on the run and flanking around the dozen or so aliens trying to line up a decent shot that didn’t involve taking a lot of hits to their shields…which weren’t all that strong to begin with.

Rio got there first and pumped two blue streaks into the closest one, realizing after the fact that one would have been enough to take it down. They were wearing clothing, not armor, and the plasma burned deep into their small bodies, knocking them out of commission rather easily.

The others peppered him with plasma as he ducked behind cover, then Dravic came out the other side and hit them from behind, killing two before he ducked out of sight behind a broken wall segment.

Rio came back out and shot another, then charged forward, accepting several shots to his shields as he closed range and got inside the small crater and kicked one of the aliens back into another pair, bowling them down from the melee as he pumped out plasma shots to the others still standing, with Dravic joining him a moment later.

Rio’s shields went down and he took three plasma hits to his armor before the aliens were all killed. He inspected the damage, finding the melty spots being superficial only. Their plasma pistols didn’t carry a lot of damage…unless you were caught outside your armor, in which case they’d be plenty lethal.

Dravic raised a warning finger after putting an extra shot into one of the bodies that he felt wasn’t completely out of the fight yet.

“Patience,” he counseled. “Don’t let your shields be taken down unless absolutely necessary. You don’t know how long you’ll have to make do with that set of armor before you can get a replacement, and even though those are small marks, they add up over time.”

“Noted,” Rio said, realizing his mistake.

“Come on. If there are more pockets it’ll be run and gun. Let the snipers eat them up.”

“Go,” Rio agreed, dropping in behind the commando as they made their way up the east side, coming across several individuals and killing about half of them. The others either fled or chased after them, and Rio could hear the occasional lachar blast behind him as the aliens crossed into the base’s firing lines.

He didn’t look back to see if they were hit or not, for that wasn’t his role here and it would slow him down. They were meant to flush them out, which meant eyes forward at all times.

The pair hit another pocket on the north side, this one larger than the last, and it seemed that the aliens were slowly gathering around the base, possibly to assault it, or maybe just being attracted to the action. If they were out here to exterminate surviving Protovic, then maybe they didn’t have an overall plan, in which case it was good that they were getting to them first and forcing the issue.

Plus, the more of them they killed, the more Protovic might survive.

Rio got more than a dozen kills by the time they finished their long zigzaggy circle around the base, coming back up to the south entrance and entering the same way they had come out…through a small slit in the doors, but this time the shields remained partially down, or rather ‘up.’ They were deployed over top of the base, but didn’t extend all the way to the ground, ending just above the wall so the snipers could continue taking out targets of opportunity.

“Hold up,” Dravic said once they were inside, proceeding to walk around Rio inspecting his armor. “Not too bad. Do you have full shield strength? One of the gashes is close to an emitter.”

Rio checked his HUD. “I’m reading full power, and all emitters are green.”

Dravic nodded. “Get to the maintenance building and have a tech put some patches on those holes while we’ve got the chance. And other than being a little bold, you did well keeping up. This was your first live firefight?”

“Yeah it was,” Rio admitted.

“Live and learn, commando,” he said, punching the center of Rio’s chest with the side of his fist, which bounced off the active shield matrix.

“One thing,” Rio asked as the other started to walk away. “What do we call those things?”

“They’re called Aronsic.”

“No nickname?”

“This is the first time Star Force has engaged them. You have a suggestion?”

“Well, they kind of remind me of Lord of the Rings.”

Dravic stared at him for a moment. “Hobbits?”

“Yeah…that’s what I was thinking, anyway.”

“Makes sense. No guarantee it’ll stick though,” he said, getting on his comm. “How many more Hobbits have we got roaming around?”

“Several,” one of the wall guards answered on the communal comm that Rio and the others could listen in to. “It looks like they’ve been spread out across or beneath the debris and are starting to converge on the base. No telling how many are out there…and I like the name, by the way.”

“Rio’s idea. If they start accumulating too much, let me know and we’ll make another shakeout run.”

“Copy.”

Dravic pointed at Rio, then at a particular building. “Get going. I want you ready for the next go around.”

Rio smiled inside his helmet, then jogged off towards the maintenance building.

16 kilometers to the northwest Kip watched a mech engagement ongoing via the Tassadar’s bridge hologram in delay as some of the jumpships in orbit around Eshwan transmitted the battlemap data across the system to the trailblazer’s flagship as it was stationed in a null orbit far from any planet or moon, waiting for a target to ambush as other warships were poking around the system trying to find the Skarron fleet. He watched as the Metal Gear neos, madcats, and thors fought with three plump, six-legged walkers, seeing that the enemy truly wasn’t going down very fast at all.

But at the same time they weren’t giving much return fire. Already an analysis of the battle data from every engagement was being processed by the command crews on the warships, with a weapon map and strength assessment for what they were tagging as a Type 4 walker showing on a side hologram. The ungainly thing had a fat rear end, almost like a giant tick, that was covered in small plasma ports…but with overlapping fire they were able to rack up considerable damage, and combined with the thick hull armor the Type 4 was taking three of their mechs to take down.

But going down it was. There were two stars of Metal Gears, 10 mechs in all, taking on the three Skarron Type 4s, each of which stood twice as tall as the neos when it was laying on the ground, and rising higher when its legs engaged and lifted its bulk up. The front end was tapered, which Kip recognized as a way to get the lateral plasma ports, which he guessed were all fed by a single internal generator, to align into a narrow forward arc where they could aim and fire on the same target simultaneously, similar to the way Star Force’s original battleship design allowed, based off the Star Destroyer model.

The Metal Gears recognized it too, because they were using their superior mobility to keep out of that arc and hit it from the flanks, chewing up a couple of spots on the armor in an attempt to eventually break all the way through. Missiles appeared to have greater effect on the armor, far more so than they should have versus the plasma cannons…which told him that these things had been designed to be resistant to plasma, which almost every race used in some fashion. It was the most common weapon, coming in many designs, so it was understandable that the Skarrons had predicated their defense against it.

Trouble was, missiles weren’t that easy to come by, meaning engaging these things was going to eat up a lot of ammo unless they could find another way to do it. Unfortunately the mechs currently engaged didn’t have maulers. He guessed those would have more effect, but he was going to have to wait to see how that played out.

Suddenly a projectile shot out from one of the Skarron walkers, followed by a tether that connected it to a madcat’s leg. Kip zoomed in on the hologram, seeing a claw grip wrapping around the mech leg just before the Skarron pulled and knocked the Metal Gear mech off balance. It tipped over and fell onto its port missile box, crunching in the side as the Type 4, unbelievably, reeled in the mech like it was a fish on the end of a line.

Kip’s eyes went wide even as a Neo came in and shot the tether twice with both its arm-mounted plasma cannons, severing the connection and allowing the madcat to start to get back up on its feet. The Neo walked over and used its hands to pry the claw off the leg, breaking one of tines in the process, with Kip still not believing that the Skarron walker had enough mass/torque to yank a madcat off its feet…meaning that that thing was far heavier and stronger than it looked.

And it was the second smallest of the 5 types the enemy had in the field. His forces had been ordered to engage the smaller ones on the flanks of the enemy lines and leave the bigger ones for later, hopefully once he got back from hunting down the enemy fleet. He had to be present to do that, for tracking down and successfully engaging an enemy insystem when they didn’t want to be found was next to impossible. Paul and the other naval experts had been continually experimenting and upgrading their equipment to make such things easier, but Kip knew this was going to require a trailblazer’s touch…but so would the major ground combat, meaning he needed to be in two places at once.

He typed out an order to send to the Metal Gears, indicating that they shouldn’t engage the enemy mechs with less than a star against each, and to wait to engage the Type 3s and larger until he returned. Right now the Protoss mechs weren’t even to their engagement points, for they were locking down various facilities in the line of the enemy advance and preparing to make a stand to delay the Skarrons and buy time for evacuation convoys moving the locals out.

That put both Clans on opposite sides of the enemy, with the intention being to force them to split their forces. If they didn’t one Clan was going to have an opening to exploit, and right now it seemed the Skarrons were more eager to go after the Metal Gears, something that he needed to attend to right now.

He zoomed out to the main battlemap and across to the Protoss landing zones, picking one that was already well established and ordering a series of raids forward into Skarron territory…but harassment only. Kip wanted to get their attention and take down a few of their walkers, but not get into a full-on engagement. Fortunately their ground troops were slow as hell, and would give the Clans the time they needed to maneuver the coming assaults into positions of their choosing.

“Kip, we have contact,” the Tassadar’s Captain said, interrupting his ground campaign holo and sending it off to the side as a naval system map replaced it. “Five ships in low orbit around the 8th planet’s innermost moon.”

“Have they detected our presence?”

“If they have they aren’t moving yet.”

Kip nodded, tagging several of his own warships on the map, wanting those to converge on the target along with the Tassadar at the same moment. “Let’s go say hi.”

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