Conflict and Empire
Author: Stephen W Bennett
Date: 2016-08-19T18:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Speculative
Description: Koban Book 6: Conflict and Empire The Galactic Federation is confronted by the vast and implacable Thandol Empire, which has coveted the former Krall region of space for eons. A region of space now occupied and claimed by the upstart Kobani. Outnumbered, they face an opponent who possesses new and deadly weapons. An enemy that had thousands of years to develop the means to take on the Krall Empire, and now present the supermen with a weapon that turns their greatest genetic asset into their greatest weakness. The new Federation must find a way to survive the most powerful threat yet to their e

Koban: Conflict and Empire

By Stephen W Bennett

Koban: Conflict and Empire

Text copyright © 2016

By Stephen W Bennett

All Rights Reserved

Cover art designed by:

Travis Knotts

This is the sixth book in the Koban Series.

You can review all books currently available at:

https://www.facebook.com/Koban.the.series
and
http://www.kobanuniverse.net/
or my page at
http://www.amazon.com/Stephen-W-Bennett/e/B008ZPQ12I/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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

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

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

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As always, my sincerest thanks to Paul Benkert, for taking the time to perform proofreading, spotting typos, wrong words, odd phrasings, and story inconsistencies. Also for suggesting clarifications of items that seem obvious to me (with the full story in my head), but in retrospect make no sense to the reader at that point in the story. I’m indebted to him for his willingness to stick with a difficult task, despite personal distractions. I wish you continued health my friend. There will always be more errors than we both can find, even on a second pass by us both, because I’m devilishly efficient at hiding them anywhere. I’ll be posting new editions when kind readers prove that statement correct yet again.

Often ‘tis the plight of the self-published independent author.

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Contents

Map of Milky Way

Chapter 1: Between a Rock and a Hard Place!

Chapter 2: Meglor

Chapter 3: New Technology

Chapter 4: Target, Tanner’s World

Chapter 5: First Plans Change

Chapter 6: Maximum Engagement

Chapter 7: Partial Disengagement

Chapter 8: Counter Attack

Chapter 9: Let’s Make a Deal

Chapter 10: Alliances and Solutions!

Chapter 11: No-see-ums and Rogues

Chapter 12: Bugs, Guts, and War

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

About the Author:

The End

Map of Milky Way

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

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

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

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

Chapter 1: Between a Rock and a Hard Place!

“Kuttlefish!”

Mirikami had been describing the disastrous Kobani physical vulnerability to an unfamiliar Thandol weapon, speaking to gathered alien and Kobani scientists. He abruptly stopped when he heard that sudden utterance, and looked at his two friends who had spoken that joint exclamation, Vince Naguma and Sarah Bradley.

He was telling the assembly about the painful effects of the Thandol Debilitater radiation weapon on living creatures in general, but which had proven fatal for the Kobani from even mild exposures. That nerve-jangling, pain-inducing weapon could potentially wipe out all higher life on Koban, due to their superconducting nervous systems.

He knew Vince and Sarah had switched to researching Koban sea life a few years ago, after the formerly empty minded Krall meat-animals, the devolved Raspani, were moved to Haven. The two scientists had given up being Raspani caretakers on Koban, when the newly restored Raspani wanted to perform that task themselves, on the neighboring lighter gravity planet, where they inserted mind enhancers and restored personalities into the mindless ones.

When the researchers simultaneously, and apparently spontaneously, blurted the word kuttlefish, it caused a moment of confusion for him and the others in the room.

“Vince, Sarah, what did you two just say? Did you think of something that relates to our problem?”

Vince spoke first, after a rapid Comtap exchange with his wife. “We’re not entirely sure, Tet. But Sarah and I have been studying Koban sea animals, and one is an Earth-like cuttlefish analogue, which we found living along the coast near Hub City. They’re preyed upon by many different predatory fish. The Koban kuttlefish, as we named them, didn’t appear to have much in the way of natural defenses, such as a hard shell, toxic flesh, or a venomous bite to ward attackers off. They do use a fast color changing camouflage, as do the smaller Earth equivalent animals we named them after. However, they don’t even produce ink to squirt, for distracting a predator as they flee to some underwater burrow or coral outcrop. These soft bodied, six-tentacled creatures don’t seem to use burrows as hiding places from which to forage, except when the female is brooding eggs. To remain in the open, at least as much as they do, appeared to be a risky survival strategy to us. So we investigated.”

Mirikami nodded, still not understanding the apparent sidetrack they had caused from the main discussion. However, he respected their intelligence, and assumed they had a pertinent point to make. He made a guess at what that point was, to hurry the discussion.

“I saw a pair of small kuttlefish in the big aquarium tank you set up in the Grand Hall of Hub City dome. Is it their impressive camouflage capability that you mean?” He assumed they were thinking of the animal’s ability to blend in and hide right out in the open, which to some extent might be a useful ability for a naked Kobani out of armor or clothing, but not against an electromagnetic broadcast of a wide beamed weapon, which didn’t care if the target was seen visually or not.

Sarah explained their completely different discovery in more detail. “It isn’t their visual concealment that really protects them Tet. It’s their defense from electrical detection systems by their predators, and most importantly, their protection from at least two species of electrical shock fish, which is what just triggered our idea as we listened to you. One predator is the large Boltfish we discovered, an eight to ten-foot-long beast at maturity, which delivers a shock of 800 to 1,100 volts, at nearly two amps to its prey, killing or stunning them. Another is the Battery eel that someone else discovered and named, which is actually a long slender six-foot fish. It too detects prey with rapid low voltage electrical pulses, and stuns them with a powerful shock when they’re found. Vince has done disections on the kuttlefish to find out how they survive the shocks; I’ll let him explain what we’ve found.”

Vince again picked up the explanation. “The kuttlefish is invisible to the electrical detection systems of these two predators, and perhaps to others not yet identified, and it’s totally immune to the shocks of these two. Furthermore, the Boltfish has long and nasty teeth, and our five-foot long, squishy, soft-bodied adult kuttlefish, seem nearly bite proof, suffering only superficial scratches, which heal quickly. The Battery eel has smaller pointy teeth, and all they do is barely scratch the surface skin.

We think that’s why the kuttlefish don’t bother to hide very much. Although, they can be swallowed completely by a Great Blue shark, and then they’re dead, of course. We’ve even seen two Boltfish that spotted one of them swimming, and combined in a joint attack to rip tentacles off, and eventually consume them. But one on one, they survive most attacks, that involve an electrical jolt, and it’s what’s under their skin that we think should be investigated.”

Mirikami sounded skeptical. “How so? It what way do you think that might help us with a defense against the Debilitater ray? I’ll admit, as a Spacer, I’ve stayed out of the rivers and seas on Koban, because everything in them seems ready to nibble my parts, or bite off my ass. I commend you two for your studies, although I’m afraid I haven’t paid any attention to your reports.”

Sarah grinned. “You’re a Spacer, as you said, and the reports weren’t intended for you to read. Until just now, we didn’t see any possible application for what we’ve learned. Now, however, there might be one.” She offered a challenge in the form of a question.

“Why have we only considered genes from Koban land or air animals for our own genetic enhancements?”

Mirikami shook his head. “I don’t follow you. Rafe and Aldry aren’t here from our genetics section, because we expected this to be a technological discussion of defense from enemy weapons, and of new offensive weapons of our own. They were invited of course, but both though they’d hear little that involved them. I’m pleased you came, but I don't know if we have the experts here we need to understand what you may have found.”

Vince scratched his head, but pressed on. “We will take this up with the genetics section, but Sarah and I have unanswered questions of our own about how what we found makes the kuttlefish immune to shocks to their nervous system, and how they manage to hide from the pulsed electrical detection systems of their predators. I think we need information from technicians or physicists. We might be onto something that we can use as a Debilitater defense, but we don't know enough to decide if it’s useful or not, or even practical.”

Max Born, as head of the physics department for the human side of research, spoke up. “What did you find in dissecting a kuttlefish that you think makes them immune to electrical shocks and from electrical detection by those predators?”

Vince described what his examinations had found. “They have an extremely tough, but very pliable layer of carbon nanotubes just below their upper layer of skin, under the pigmented chromatophores they use for rapid color changes and background matching. Detailed extreme microscopic examinations of that nanotube layer shows that the carbon nanotubes are laid parallel to one another, providing the pliable flexibility their fluid-like movements require. We already know how strong those nanotubes are when embedded in our own bones, which are as unbreakable as the bones of a whiteraptor, where we found the genes to grow them. And they were used by the PU Special Operations troops on the surface their carbon fiber exomuscle suits. That thin layer provided protection from knives and shrapnel, and reduced damage from projectile weapons.

“We immediately saw how a two-layer nanotube film, beneath the first layer of skin, made them bite and puncture resistant, but it also seems somehow connected to their shock resistance, and how they hide from the pulsed electrical detection systems of their hunters. We’ve found a distantly related Koban analogue to an octopus, which doesn’t have that carbon nanotube layer, and that animal can be shocked and stunned. The same predators also can detect them if they get close, so they hide in burrows or coral outcrops when any predator is around. I don't understand the physics of how that layer, which looks like a thin, dark continuous film to the naked eye, can do so much.”

Born nodded. “Carbon nanotubes are excellent electrical conductors. I suspect they shunt the high voltage electrical current from a Boltfish or Battery eel around the kuttlefish’s internal organs, and away from their nervous system. Their ability to hide from the pulsed electrical sensors of the predators is intriguing. I can’t think of how that might work, unless it’s an organic version of a Faraday cage. If you’ll meet me after this meeting, with Rafe or Aldry present, together we might figure it out. If they can identify the genes that grow this protective body sheath, and testing proves it protects them from a jazzer, you may be onto something useful against Debilitaters. Or, as is often the case, it may not come to anything. In any case, we hadn’t anticipated gaining nearly unbreakable bones either, so it’s worth a look.”

Satisfied that this interruption had been handled, Mirikami went to the next item of defense to consider. The Decoherence bombs.

“Coldar, you examined the Water Drifter, the ship that was hit with a Decoherence bomb at your Green Atoll colony. The ship survived, even though the warhead emerged at the center of the ship, between decks. You were going to measure the damage and air pressure increase when that weapon emerged, activated, and gasified parts of two decks. Is that why the ship survived a direct hit, because it emerged at its largely empty center?”

The Torki clicked his claws in indecision. “Tet, had the ship been filled with incompressible water at the center, as our migration ships often are, we initially presumed the internal pressure of vaporized decking and water would have split the ship open, resulting in its loss. While that’s a reasonable assumption if the pressure from that volume of vaporized material had been created, Blue Flower Eater hypothesizes that this is an incorrect extrapolation.

“That Thandol weapon or warhead as humans name it, to our knowledge has never appeared inside the solid substance of any building, or below the ground at Paradise or under water at our new colony site on Green Atoll when that was hit. The circuity of the device that projects the fifth force, which breaks all of the atomic bonds inside its effective radius, needs to survive its rotation into Normal Space. It can’t activate inside dense matter the instant it arrives, if it needs to survive an intersect with matter to do that.”

Mirikami spread his hands. “What are you and Blue thinking? That they actually aim at voids in their targets, so the circuitry that produces the spherical projection of the Q-Rupter beams can survive the arrival? Air isn’t a vacuum; doesn’t the weapon intersect with the atoms of the atmosphere when it emerges? That has to be destructive to some extent.”

Coldar clicked a small grasper claw to indicate partial agreement. “Yes, but it’s a matter of degree of the intersect forces created. Our dense Nova bombs are energetically destructive because they emerge from Tachyon Space inside other dense matter, and explode violently, with the instant total destruction of the missile and target. A Nova doesn’t require any circuitry or explosives to do its work when it makes its exit, it’s simply matter meeting matter.

“On the other claw, however, the Decoherence bomb needs to be functional after it arrives. It must be made durable and redundant enough that it can sustain the damage from the relatively low density of internal atmospheres that fill a spacecraft or a planetary atmosphere, and then activate. The Thandol must use mass accurate detectors to aim at low density volumes within their targets.”

Mirikami tugged at his lip. “You said that had the Water Drifter held water, it would have been lost by splitting open from the pressure increase caused by the warhead. Because the Drifter lifted without the weight of internal water, the atmosphere occupying its place didn’t increase enough to rupture the hull or kill the crew. Do you see where I’m going?”

The two aliens ran with the issue for a few minutes.

Coldar swiveled an eyestalk towards his Raspani coworker, Blue. “I believe Captain Mirikami is seeking the middle ground between water, and atmosphere, so as to disable these bombs, or deny the Thandol a safe aiming point. At what density would you estimate the internal voids of a ship might contain enough gaseous matter to render the bomb circuitry so damaged it could not activate? And yet if the warhead does activate, not produce pressure enough to rupture a hull or kill the crew. It obviously could not be an incompressible liquid.”

Blue waggled his elbows in agreement. “A dense enough gas might serve, but the crew needs to be able to breathe it for a time, or have a personal oxygen supply. In a normal atmosphere mix, Nitrogen can be replaced with a denser inert gas, such as Argon or Xenon, but those colorless, dense, odorless noble gasses are also rare, and for my people, both act somewhat as an anesthesia if breathed, even though oxygen is absorbed.

“An even heavier gas to replace Nitrogen is Sulfur hexafluoride. It too is colorless, odorless, non-flammable, non-toxic, and an electrical insulator, and cheap to produce. It transmits sound slower through its dense medium, and voices would become much deeper in timber. I cannot say if it would be sufficient to severely damage the circuits of a Decoherence bomb enough to disable them, or to prevent that internal volume from being targeted in the first place.”

Mirikami resumed control of the discussion. “We can spare some of the most damaged captured clanships still sitting on K1 for repair, and operate them remotely via basic Artificial Intelligence systems. We can fill, say three of them, with different density gasses, and send them against a Thandol Crusher, forcing them to fire on them and monitor the results.

“No lives need to be risked to gather this data. We can send an operational control ship, one with gamma ray suppression and advanced stealth, or a ghosting monitor ship that stays safely in Tachyon Space. The control ship will be able to determine what happens, both internally on the test ships, and of their success against the Ragnar and Thandol targets, which they’ll attack.

“The AI’s on the test clanships should have a Prada communicator device wired into them, to stay untraceably linked to their controllers through Tachyon Space. We’ll be able to gather reports of hits of Decoherence bombs that reach them, or if none are ever fired because there are no safe low-density zones inside them.

“We can make certain the enemy will desperately want to fire on these ships, because they’ll emerge shooting at them. The damaged clanships each have operational weapons, so they only need hull integrity restored, and the T-cubed modification installed, to get deep into the Empire fast. After that, those clanships don’t have to return home. They can do something else destructive.” He grinned and looked at Max Born.

“Max, can we have some of the first Nova II bombs to send on the three test ships? Assuming that a simple AI can target and launch them, of course.”

Born shrugged, then nodded. “We don’t have many reduced to a size that fits inside the heavy one-meter radius steel cases yet, but we have at least ten of the prototype models, which can be used without the sleek steel covers. They don't need to look pretty, so long as they have coordinates of where to Jump. If the mission doesn’t leave for a couple of months, some of the newer ones will be ready.”

“The prototypes are good enough, because I don't want to wait. Thad, I’d like you and Sarge to find the clanships we need on K1, ask the Prada there to patch them enough so the hulls hold pressure, and find out, perhaps in Human Space, where we can buy Sulfur Hexafluoride, and two other relatively cheap dense gasses that don't have to be breathable, just denser than breathable air, and less dense than the first gas. We want to learn at what level the gas density gets high enough to disrupt those bomb circuits, or if the Thandol weapon simply won’t target those volumes for that reason.

“We want to know if the bombs are delivered but can’t activate because they were damaged, or if the targeting systems won’t select them without a low density area to target. Either way, our ships would be safer, I think.”

The two men nodded, accepting the task assigned.

Maggi reminded her husband of a secondary matter, related to launching the new Nova bombs. “Tet, we don’t need perfect aiming on the test ships for the Novas, since all you want to do is provoke return fire with Decoherence bombs. But what about installing the mass detectors, to triangulate the densest spot in a target to aim at, for the biggest bang for the credits spent.”

The question was eagerly intercepted by Wister, because the Prada energetically wanted to contribute to this new fight, since it no longer required overcoming millennia of indoctrination of loyalty to their former Krall Rulers. “We have started production of the newer and more sensitive mass detectors, and we can build dozens per day on the one production line we have running now. That line can be scaled up to produce several hundred a day. We need three mass detectors per ship for accurate triangulation of the highest mass concentrations, for all five thousand of our ships. I’m confident we can deliver more of them than we can of the new Nova bombs, which need small Trap field generators and Jump engines, and a basic AI system to aim them at the Jump coordinates the mass detectors provided.”

“Thank you Wister.”

Mirikami continued. “The last item I have today is for better shielding of both body armor and our ships, from Debilitater ray radiation leakage. Such as what caused the loss of the Dauntless on Zanzibar 2, when the radiation entered an open weapon’s port, and leakage from there entered suit joints, disabling or killing the Bridge crew. Coldar, your team and Blue’s technicians were examining those vulnerable points, for both ships and suits.”

The Raspani took the lead here. “The solution for one works for both. There is a form of solid carbon that is harder than diamond, which is less well organized than the normal symmetric crystalline form. This, oddly enough, is not a new development by us. It was a human discovery on Earth, over five centuries ago. I discovered this form of carbon from a human database when I searched for specific electromagnetic properties, and material hardness. It’s called Q-carbon.

“To make it for the suits, we vaporized carbon to form a fine film at the joints of body armor, and then we hit the film with just enough laser heat to melt it at the line of the joints. We rapidly cool it, or quench is the word in Standard you use, which is where the letter Q in Q-carbon originates.

“Instead of the carbon interlocking in the neat lattices of diamonds, there is an amorphous jumble of tetrahedrals of carbon, of various microscopic sizes. These crystals are magnetic and conductive, a key property for our needs, and at their microscopic sizes they disrupt nearly the full spectrum of the mix of high frequency signals of the Debilitater ray, blocking or reflecting the portions of the radiation to which Kobani superconducting nervous systems are most sensitive. We can overlay the new Q-Carbon film with the same advanced stealth coating we use now, so you remain stealthed in your armor, but now shielded from the Debilitater radiation.”

Mirikami nodded in satisfaction. “That’s for the body armor. You said it also solved the radiation entry into the ships via the weapons ports. We don’t always wear body armor in flight, so how is that solved if we find ourselves ambushed?”

“Same principle. We weld a steel baffle in the back of the cavities that house the heavy-duty lasers and plasma cannons, with tight seals around the power and control lines, and apply the new Q-carbon film around the seals, to prevent radiation leakage when the external ports are open. It takes less than a half day to seal all eight weapons ports on a ship.

“It isn’t really a problem for missile port openings, because nothing living is exposed behind those when they open, and the machinery in the missile lockers, where crews work, only moves reloaded racks into place while the outer ports are closed, and internal openings are resealed against explosions before the outer ports reopen. We learned that there’s no path for leakage.”

“That’s good, at least for our troops and ship crews, who will be involved in actions against Thandol forces. Nevertheless, as I noted last week, our civilians can’t prepare the same way combat troops dress for a fight, or inhabit sealed ships. We’ve seen that the Thandol and their security forces will show them no mercy. A large fleet of Stranglers could wipe out most life on Koban.”

Coldar shifted his carapace sideways, indicating confusion. “What are Stranglers?”

Mirikami grimaced. “Oh, sorry. We have two Ragnar prisoners of war from the fighting at Zanzibar 2, and they told us the names of their ship classes. We know that the three types of ships they used in the fight there are classed as Ravagers, comparable to our own ships, which is a Ragnar design, and quite good in a fight requiring speed and maneuvering. Then there is the Smasher class, a pyramidal Thandol design, much smaller than a Crusher, and a good weapons platform, but too massive and slow to fight the fluid sort of space battle we fought against the Ragnar. They can have several Decoherence bomb launchers installed, but the Ragnar are never provided Smashers with those types of weapons.

“Then, there is the Thandol designed Strangler, with a triangular base the same size of the Smashers, but is a much truncated pyramid with a broad flat top. In fact, they are a modified version of the Smashers. They are reinforced with armor, ground attack and ground defense weapons, and designed for low-level operation in atmosphere, conducting attacks on population centers. Those were the ships carrying the Debilitater projector on their bottom side, disabling normal or clone-mod humans, killing every Kobani directly exposed to the beam, and severely crippling the Kobani struck only by weakened, reflected, or distorted radiation. The Thandol allow the Ragnar full use of Debilitaters. I don't know if they’ve learned how devastating that weapon was to us.”

****

“Now that I know how devastating the Debilitater is to those falgrat sucking, foul dragnak berserkers, I’ll soak entire human planets with that radiation,” swore Bone Breaker Gimtal Thond, the Force Commander of the Ragnar led Annexation Campaign for the Thandol Empire.

He’d just received an analysis from orbital recordings, and those from the Stranglers, particularly from the Strangler that attacked an unfinished human colony town. That was where ten of the same class of ships that fought his fleet so effectively in space, had been trapped on the surface when the Ragnar attack started.

Some presumed members of the crews from those ships were identified as having joined what appeared to be ordinary colonists in an impromptu shelter system, in the form of an underground storm drain system. It wasn’t that the combat ship crewmembers wore uniforms, but close study revealed that they all moved in an unusually easy and smooth motion on that significantly higher than average gravity planet. They were the humans that ran faster, with high leaps not matched by the other identical appearing humans that were certainly colonists.

One human, with such ability, wore a brightly colored shirt that was unique among the population seen in the images at that unfinished town. It was identified again later, by cameras on a Strangler as it first approached the outline of that future town. It was recording the initial effects of the wide angel Debilitater beam as it began to be felt by the exposed crews of two of the freighters. Those humans didn’t have the speed or high leaps of the crews from the combat ships, and as the effects of the nerve pain started to impair their ability to run towards the underground shelter, they collapsed to the ground.

The strength of the signal at that range was automatically calculated, the purpose being to build a database of how this new species reacted to the Debilitater ray at different signal levels. The loss of muscle control, and degree of flopping of the helpless victims as the beam strength increased fell within expected parameters for the class of warm-blooded lifeforms to which the humans appeared to belong.

The beam intensity at which exposed humans died would be useful for setting an upper radiation threshold for future punitive actions, after this subservient species was added to the Empire. Dead servants of the empire were less productive than live ones, and paid no taxes. An income that the Ragnar collected for the Empire, and received a share.

The Strangler’s surveillance system relayed its recordings automatically to the flagship for later scientific review. That was fortunate, since the ship, and the other three Stranglers, were soon lost.

Before that loss, however, a human wearing a brightly colored shirt, which matched the one worn by the presumed crewmember of a combat ship, shot up out of a square hole in the ground, at one of the openings into the underground drainage system. He rose in an improbably high arc in that gravity, executing a graceful folded up tuck and roll in apparent preparation to land feet first. It looked as if it was trying to come to the aid of the other humans affected by the beam. Some of those more susceptible victims had fallen, and were struggling to crawl to the shelter of that hole, even as the Debilitater robbed them of the ability to control their muscles.

What was gratifying to Thond was the total collapse of the leaping human, as he failed to control what had started as a graceful and powerful leap. After that, his body reacted far more violently to the beam than did the other adjacent humans. Whereas the bodies of the freighter’s crew flipped and flopped around, as nerves spontaneously directed muscle spasms, the brightly clothed human spectacularly flipped more than a body length into the air from a prone position. Its limb twitches were far faster and more forceful than that of any of the other humans, even when the beam strength grew stronger for the others.

Well after it was presumed to have died, its body continued impossible gyrations and high flips, which should have broken all of its limbs and many other bones. Yet, the limbs seemed to retain their proper articulation, as if unbroken, the muscle attachments untorn. The detailed study of these images provided some vital clues about the humans that flew in the extremely high performance combat ships. It helped explain some of their improbable tolerance of high acceleration and maneuvers by their ships, if they possessed considerably greater strength and durable bodies than the colonists and freighter crews. Thond was already impressed with the high gravity capability of the colonists, who demonstrated comparable strength to the average Ragnar, despite their smaller size. But the combat ship humans were in a distinct class apart.

These appeared to be a breed of super humans, and their ability to defeat the Krall began to seem more comprehensible. Except they were suddenly revealed to have a vital weakness, even greater than when compared to others of their own species that did not possess their strength and speed. They fell victim to the Debilitater ray at low signal levels, and died considerably sooner than did the other humans.

It was that conclusion, which had so energized Force Commander Thond that he lifted his face and roared at the sky, vigorously thumping his chest with the knuckles of both hands. His chest would be sore tomorrow, but his spirit was now healed. He’d been distressed by how successful those outnumbered humans had been at fighting his fleet. Now he knew their great weakness, and it was one the Ragnar themselves were less susceptible to, and had shielded armor, should humans learn to copy that weapon. All he required was more ways to exploit the weapon, and increased Debilitater production would be a significant part of his plans for the future of this conflict.

****

Sarge wouldn’t let go of his gripe. “I still think we should go to Wendal, to rub Emperor Farlol’s trunks in his own crap when we scare the hell out of him, or perhaps kill his royal imperial ass.”

Thad sighed, again. “You just won’t let it go will you? Both Tet and President MacDougal told us no. Twice for you. Even if you don’t think good old Stewart knows a rifle from his penis, you damn well know Tet understands the military aspects of our raid. He appears to have a grasp of Thandol psychology, and thinks a direct attack against the Emperor, on his capital planet, would trigger a massive and recklessly rash response by them. That would be a major attack, and one we can’t stop. Right now, they don't know how thinly we’re spread. Tet wants to make them cautious, not ragingly reckless.”

Sarge voiced one final bitch, in a tone indicating his acceptance of inevitable defeat of his personal preferences. “Attacking a damned repair base, or any base deep in Empire space, will also piss them off. If they’re gonna hit us back, and nobody doubts that, scaring the boss elephant might make him hesitate.”

“It wouldn’t damage their ability to strike back, even if Farlol the umpty umpth were killed. The Ragnar would simply be given more material support, and turned lose, with instructions to show no mercy, to accept no surrender of human colonies. They didn’t appear ready to kill everyone on Zanzibar 2, at least not until we started kicking their asses in space. According to the two low ranking apes we captured, they were stationed on a Smasher that carried a close cousin of the Emperor, who was only there to observe the action. The near disaster for that observer’s ship must have embarrassed the Ragnar commander of that fleet.

“He’d been placed in charge of conquering the Federation for the Empire, and losing that imperial observer could have been disastrous for him. The two ape grunts think that if the cousin of the emperor had died, this Force Commander Gimtal Thond would have been executed, and the Ragnar replaced for the task of trying to take us over.”

“Humph. Then I don’t suppose he’s very favorably disposed to us then, is he? This ship repair planet, Meglor. Isn’t that where the two captives expected Thond to send the damaged ships of his fleet?”

Thad detected the first signs of interest from Reynolds, now that he couldn’t talk anyone into his own plan of action. He knew his friend well, and the best way to spark his interest in their mission, was to ridicule his knowledge of the subject. “I thought you had your complaining mouth open too wide to hear the briefing. What the hell do you know about Meglor, except its name?”

“Aside from a Crusher being parked in orbit there, and Thond’s Zanzibar fleet in for repairs, it’s where Stranglers are made out of damaged Smashers, or from that ship class, when they’re slated for refurbishing. They cut off one pointy corner, install a Debilitater at the bottom, and add better ground attack defenses.”

Thad was pleased he’d provoked his interest, but was surprised as well. “That last information wasn’t in the briefing I heard Tet give. How do you know about the Stranglers?”

“Because, Colonel, a mere sergeant like me knows to read the mission particulars that are sent to his Comtap, and not just listen to the big wigs chatter. You only picked up the overall strategy with your big floppy looking ears. I read all the dirty details, which often tell you how to survive when the strategy fails, and the fit hits the shan.”

“O-Kay, detail man. What mission use do you find in the knowledge that Stranglers are made at Meglor? How does that help us determine how effective Decoherence bomb delivery is with dense gasses inside our three test ships?”

“It doesn’t help a damn bit.” He held up a hand to hold off a reply.

Then he picked a quote out of his wolfbat memory matrix.

“But, Tet also said this about the test clanships we’re taking along, ‘those clanships don’t have to return home. They can do something else destructive.’ It’s the something else destructive I’m thinking about. It can be done at Meglor just as well as at Wendal, and it would clearly benefit us if we can destroy as many Stranglers we can find there.

“By the way, I’d consider Tet’s suggestion to take three damaged clanships with us merely a guideline. There is probably a dozen of them on K1 waiting for hull repairs, which already have the T-cubed software mods and can travel fast enough to go with us. However, I don't know how many basic AI’s we can beg borrow or steal to operate them. There’s no shortage of Prada communicators to give them our instructions, in or out of Tachyon Space, and to hear their reports.”

Thad was taken aback. “Damn, man. Did you just come up with all of this?”

“No, of course not, you dullard. I was hoping for a bigger mission to Wendal if I could convince Tet and Stewart to let us go there. I never got a chance to make my case. The only thing that changes for me now is the destination. And however many of the ships we can take from K1. Not all of them can be made airtight, none of them will have advanced stealth, and some probably don’t have full weapons or missile capability. However, we only need three made airtight to test the atmosphere’s effect on Decoherence bombs. Any others we take with us are bonus damage delivery systems.”

Thad imitated Mirikami’s lip tug. “Hmm. I was going to fly the Ripper on this mission. Now I think we’ll take your ship, the Sneaky Bastard, so I can be free to operate my own drone. I like your idea, so you get to drive the command ship. Sneaky is our motto, Bastard is our embodiment, and we won’t ask them to expand the mission. That way nobody will tell us no. We’ll ask for forgiveness, not permission. Let’s work on those dirty little details.”

****

The scientists were meeting in the Marine Lab that Vince and Sarah had established in the coastally located Hub City dome. It had taken a couple of days to arrange for all of the desired participants to assemble. Those days gave the two researchers time to gather and organize their findings on kuttlefish.

Coldar was there because the Torki had assisted the two marine researchers in their underwater observations, providing them with powered subsurface craft that could follow the subjects of interest. Because the Torki had a small coastal colony next to Hub City, those citizens gave them the results of their own direct observations and recordings of animals the two researchers studied. Max Born had arrived with a technician, along with Rafe and Aldry, and Blue came largely out of curiosity.

The Torki, when suspended in water, didn’t find the Koban gravity very objectionable, although they limited their time ashore, and they were not fond of the spring and summer warmth. Coldar was acutely uncomfortable on land today, not having left Haven very often to visit Koban. Accordingly, he was partly submerged in a large and cool marine sample tank for his comfort.

Blue was likewise ill suited for Koban’s gravity, although he had the advantage of occupying the body of a former mindless Raspani, one who had lived on Koban as a Krall meat animal. He retained a sturdier musculature than did an average member of his species.

Torki and Raspani scientists had never studied genetics with the aim of discovering how to change their DNA to add desirable new traits. This was a dangerous seeming sort of science, particularly when applied to your own species. Apparently, only humans had gone far beyond simply understanding genetic problems, first learning to cure those problems via DNA repair, and eventually incorporating corrective genes in their own bodies.

Then they took the next step, modify their own genes for enhancing existing features. On Koban, they took the tremendous risks of adding genes never found in a human’s genome, to add features no human had ever possessed. This was considered an unacceptably risky proposition by any other intelligent species, and rarely attempted. The Prada’s minor exception had added ageless longevity for them, by continually repairing accumulated DNA damage, but they had stopped there. The Kobani had copied that feature too, using the Prada gene mod as their pattern.

Humans always accepted high physical risks in their lives, and with genetics, they were no different. The near extermination of their species in the Gene War was a negative example of the risks involved. Despite this example, the Kobani, with multiple drastic gene changes, had produced a positive result, saving their species from extermination by the Krall.

Aware that Vince and Sarah had wanted technical expertise to help explain how the nanotube film conveyed the protections it did for the kuttlefish, Max Born asked them for the electron and neutrino scans he’d requested, of the microscopic structure of the film.

Projected on a wall-sized screen, he and his technician took notes of the scale factor bars on the image, indicating the size and lengths of the nanotubes, the apparent large gaps in the film at that huge magnification, and used those numbers as inputs into some computational software they had on their handheld, AI assisted, computers.

“Vince, what are the frequencies of the electrical pulses from the biological sensors of the predators, used to find their prey? You said you could get recordings of that with the equipment we loaned you.”

That resulted in another wall projection, and the technician said, “I see it arrives as relatively low frequency pulses, but within each burst of electrical energy, there are considerably higher frequency waves. The main pulses have wavelengths, if you called them that, which are far too long for sensing the tiny gaps in the film as anything but a continuous surface, keeping the cuttlefish’s nervous system virtually undetectable, but which might reveal an animal that did not have that layer of tissue.

“However, the real stealth comes from the spacing of the smaller gaps, which are in general, less than a half wavelength of the higher frequency of the embedded signals contained within each main electrical pulse. There is where we think evolution could have driven the kuttlefish to grow a nanotube film that is also impenetrable to the higher frequencies. There has probably been an evolutionary battle, where predators evolved higher frequencies to spot shielded prey, and only the prey that had smaller gaps to exclude the higher frequency of radiation survived over time.”

Vince looked at Sarah, and it was apparent this wasn’t much of a revelation to them. They already knew the kuttlefish were hard to detect by their prey. Born saw they hadn’t grasped the significance of what was implied.

“Sarah, Vince, this means that the film you discovered must have a mechanism that allows the spacing of the gaps in the nanotube to gradually vary over long evolutionary time, which prevents higher frequencies from passing through, and revealing their superconducting nervous system beneath. This is vital to its possible use for blocking the even higher, and multiple frequencies, we are able to block with the jumble of different sized Q-carbon crystals at joints in body armor. At first, I didn’t think the film would be capable of that if it only protected against the low frequency electrical pulses you first described.

“Although, I still see a problem, because the recorded spectrum of the Debilitater signal shows that we must block at least two slightly different frequencies to rob that radiation of its ability to interfere with our superconducting nervous systems. We can’t use a film that contains both sized gaps, because some portion of the highest frequency will still pass, and even that could render us disabled, even if it doesn’t kill us at low levels.”

The two marine biologists looked gloomy, at least until the technician added his experience with Faraday cages.

“It’s not a lost cause, people. If we use two differently scaled meshes, as I’ve done using metal screening, where I needed to exclude only a small set of specific frequencies, allowing others to pass, we might still block the two base frequencies we found, which are the most damaging to a Koban style nervous system.

“I made life, and sometimes death, very unpleasant for dozens of Koban rats, as I experimented on the parts of the Debilitater spectrum that does us the greatest harm. Removing those two frequencies reduces the sensation to only a mild burning and itchy sensation.”

Blue, who hadn’t heard of that experiment asked, “How do you know what the rat felt?”

“I didn’t need to ask them. When they survived without seemingly any ill effect, I stepped into the simulated beam with those frequencies left out. I’m here, so it didn’t kill me.” He grinned.

Coldar pivoted both eyestalks towards Blue, who turned his face toward Coldar. No one needed to receive the silent and private Olt and mind enhancer communication which they surely exchanged, to know what was said. A crazy human taking a ridiculously dangerous risk. Again.

Rather than address their alien allies’ amazement at how quickly humans achieved useful answers to difficult questions, accepting risks other species would avoid while they lost time finding a safer way, Max had questions for Rafe and Aldry. They had been mere observers thus far.

“Rafe, Aldry, I believe blocking the two most dangerous modulated frequencies of the Debilitater radiation can be achieved, using a suitable combination of two layers of this biological film Vince and Sarah have discovered.

“I think our combined labs can find a means of deposition of carbon nanotubes, laid on etched grids laid out with the two specified sized gaps, to simulate the end product we need, and test it for the radiation blocking properties we need.

“Obviously, it will be up to your specialty to locate the genes in the kuttlefish for growing that layer of film. Then unlocking how it achieved a mechanism for producing the observed sized gaps in the nanotube film, discovering how it evolved so that it doesn’t pass a specific frequency. That frequency needs to be considerably higher than what the Koban fish predators use, requiring much smaller gaps in the film. Then, there needs to be two of those layers, each one a different specific sized gap. Daniel and I,” he indicated the technician, “can tell you the exact sized gaps required. Naturally, we can’t tell you squat about how you would do that with gene control. Your department will have the hardest, most time consuming task, assuming it’s even possible.”

Rafe chuckled, while Aldry gave him a wry grin. She said, “Gee, mister whiz bang physicist, couldn’t you also give us an impossible deadline to meet?”

“How about any time before the Empire finds Koban?” Was his amused but sympathetic reply.

“That won’t do,” Rafe said, with a grimace. “Finding out how to do it isn’t the same as retroactively adding this mod to all of our people. We are probably adding new Kobani to our ranks by more than a thousand converts a day, and soon we hope to make that number ten thousand a day, if we can find the volunteers.”

Max shrugged. “If we don’t solve the problem, there won’t be any more volunteers to convert to a race of supermen slated for extinction.”

****

Maggi walked in on the K1 based planning session unexpectedly, sporting her most mischievous grin. “Hey, Gentle Men, boys and girls, you having fun yet? Bet you didn’t expect to see me today, huh?”

Thad quickly looked away from the wall display he’d been explaining, which suddenly went to plain white. Sarge, at the computer controlling the presentation, grinned at her inanely. “Hi Maggi, how ya doing?”

Ethan and Bradley Greeves, Carson and Alyson Martin, Jorl Breaker, Fred and Bill Saber, Carol Slobovic, and Sergey Medlov, were seated at tables and chairs, with notepad computers they’d been using to make notations, or marking portions of the discussion that pertained to them, or flagging sections where they wanted to suggest changes.

They all smiled, called out Hello’s, some even seemed genuinely happy to see her, but that was the two girls and Sergey, a couple of boys wore guilty or uncomfortable forced smiles, and two young men looked downright nervous.

Those two nervous young men were Carson and Ethan. That was because they had spent a good deal of time in Aunt Maggi’s care when younger, and that smile, combined with an unexpected appearance by her, had taught them that she’d often just discovered whatever prank, stunt, scheme, or what she termed shenanigans, they had planned or had accomplished. The repercussions from her discoveries had rarely led to much fun at all.

“What brings you to K1?” Thad asked brightly.

“The Mark of Koban, of course. Although, I hear the Planetary Union wants this planet renamed Greater West Africa again, just as soon as Nabarone’s forces root out the last of the hidden holdouts of the small Krall clans. There’ll be a new influx of colonists after that.”

“Ahh, of course.” Sarge said, as if that had been the answer to what they really were asking. “Uh, did Tet come with you?” He added. That might extract from her what really concerned them. Had they been found out?

“No, he doesn’t know I’m here. I came alone. He’s much too busy with ship and body armor modifications, and deploying Nova II’s as they’re produced, sending them out to watch over our colonies, making sure they take roundabout paths so they don’t reveal Koban to the Empire.

“I wanted to see how the planning for your mission into the Empire was going, and if you needed anything in the way of supplies, such as additional crewmembers. But I see you have more help than just you and Thad. It’s odd they weren’t mentioned in your Comtap reports to Tet.” Her smile widened, the blond locks and dimples not softening the devilment implied, which her friends had previously experienced.

“Oh, them.” Thad smiled towards his coconspirators. “We invited the others to go along so they could help us monitor all of the possible targets, which the three ships can attack, to provoke the Crusher into using its Decoherence bombs against them.”

“You don't think them simply appearing at Meglor would do that? I don't believe the Thandol are particularly reticent about using that weapon.”

“Not that. It will be a target rich environment, so quickly finding the best targets in the brief time we have for an attack increases the actual damage we can cause. At the same time, we’ll learn what we’re there to discover.”

She grinned at Ethan and Carson, as she had done so often when they were preteens, before they acquired their Kobani mods. “You two cowboys were convinced to participate just so you could help them find better targets? That’s a remarkably secondary role for the two adventuristic boys I remember, and admired.”

“Admired?” Carson looked surprised. Ethan just left his mouth hanging open.

“Of course. Had I not painfully taught you the value of careful planning, you two would have gotten into worse predicaments than you did, wouldn’t you? I might not have had the pleasure of seeing you live to grow into men. Although, I was worried about how many times I had to catch you, before you finally became better at thinking through the flaws of your nutty schemes. I mean really! Saddles for rhinolo?

“Nevertheless, had I chosen to interfere with your personal exploits with members of the opposite sex, I might have taught Ethan how to avoid being shot by an enticing female, when he turned his back with his pants off. A woman that he should have had every reason to be suspicious of.”

“How…? I mean, what do you mean?” Ethan flushed. Carson, Kit, and Kobalt had promised not to tell anyone of an embarrassment he’d experienced on a trip to Chisholm, a Rim World colony.

“Don’t insult my intelligence.” Maggi responded, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Anyway, anytime you and Carson quietly disappear at the same time, there historical reasons to ask what you’re up to now. Then, when I find myself being asked by Grandma Noreen to watch little Calvin for a day, means his mom, Alyson, was off somewhere as well. Grandma Noreen was asked if she would watch your Calvin for at least a week.” She looked pointedly at Carson and Alyson.

“After that, I looked for some of the usual young suspects you three hang out with, people you would trust to keep a secret. Some of them were gone too, or at least weren’t on Koban or Haven. With Thad and Sarge working on a special project here, I suspected where you all had to be.”

“Well,” Sarge offered, “we didn’t want word to get out about what we were up to here. Lose lips sinking ships, and all the normal security precautions, you know?”

She scoffed at the lame excuse. “What, by protecting us from the unseen elephant, or 400-pound gorilla hiding in our midst? How in hell would the Thandol or Ragnar discover your plans? You aren’t worried about the enemy picking up local radio transmissions. Not within our own star systems, or else we’d already be ass deep in their attacks. That means you were keeping word of what you were doing from reaching Tet and Stewart, the men that gave you the task. Am I getting warm?”

Thad shrugged. “I don't think Tet or Stewart wanted to be constantly bothered by our pestering them with every detail of how we were progressing, or told of every person we added to our crew on the Sneaky Bastard.”

“Oh, I don’t think so either, but use of significantly more material might matter to them, and an expansion of the original mission as well.”

“I don't think our extra personnel count as material,” he countered.

“Me either,” she answered, her smile growing sweeter. “Yet, I’ll bet seven more clanships, and the purchase of ten basic AI’s do. You failed to tell General Nabarone that he shouldn’t discuss the shuttle AI’s he furnished to you if anyone asked, or about the additional missiles taken from the clanships that were left disabled on Poldark. That was far more stuff than you needed for equipping just your approved three clanships.”

She smiled. “Pants on fire, my friends.”

They knew they were found out, but Sarge didn’t understand her last remark. “How are you gonna set fire to our pants? They’re made of Smart Fabric now days, and won’t burn. What the hell does that mean, anyway?”

“Old twentieth century reference. Liar, liar, pants on fire.”

Sarge frowned, but not at being accused of using one of his best developed talents. “Okie dokie, so you found us out, now what? You gonna shut us down? We have a damned good plan to punish the enemy with minimal costs.”

“I’ll not rat you out if I get to hear what you have planned, and see more of the Meglor system layout, including the orbital repair docks I saw on the wall when I walked in. I knew you couldn’t obtain all of the ships you wanted on K1. But, if I tell you where there are another couple of damaged clanships you can get from Poldark, will you invite me to go with you?” She didn’t say she’d blackmail her friends if they said no, but with Maggi, her impish grin told them anything was possible.

Thad looked relieved. “Humph. I believe some smart ass just told us it’s properly called Greater West Africa, not K1. And we did run out of Jump capable derelicts here that we could use. You are hereby invited to participate, even if you can’t get us two other clanships and AIs.”

“Excellent! Your secret’s safe with me, because I just became a coconspirator. This should be fun.”

Chapter 2: Meglor

Even after two days of discussing alternatives, Thad wasn’t sure using the ruse Tet had at Wendal would work again. “Maggi, they’ll be watching for ships in T-cubed travel that are masquerading as Thandol Crushers. That’s one reason Tet didn’t want us going to the capitol planet, aside from the shit we’d stir up if we did. We might not get a chance to test our gas filled ship defenses against Decoherence bombs, not if the test ships were hit with missiles, plasma, and laser fire the instant they White Out. They’ll see us coming, so pretending to be several Crushers won’t fool them again. There wouldn’t be three of them arriving at the docks without forewarning anyway.”

“Not Crushers, lunk head. How about three Smashers? Those are only several times more massive than a single clanship, and Smashers are far more common. Four clanships at the corners of a smaller pyramid can leave similar trails in Tachyon Space, and with the ships I acquired several days ago from Poldark, we’ll have twelve ships to simulate three Smashers in formation, provided Sneaky Bastard is at one of the corners.”

“That might work,” Sarge agreed. “Especially if we come in from the direction of an adjacent and deeper sector of Empire space, leaving a long back trail. Then they’d have no reason to think it was humans spoofing them again. We’d have to fly a long way around Meglor undetected to do that, probably several days of flying wide of Empire controlled space. Smasher class flights must be common in the Empire, so coming to a repair depot as a three-ship detachment from deep inside their space might look like a routine repair visit.”

Thad conceded. “It’s worth a try, and we’re no worse off if they do figure out who we are, since they’ll see us coming no matter from which direction we arrive. At least that suggested track doesn’t lead back to any particular place in the Federation. Although, the instant we White Out they’ll know we represent the Federation. At least for the other eleven ships, that is. The Sneaky Bastard has a gamma ray suppression modification now, and with our better stealth, we’ll be able to safely observe the attacks and alter what we target, based on what we find there.”

Maggi smacked her hands together enthusiastically. “So, Colonel Boss Man, when do we leave?”

Greeves grinned and turned to walk out of the briefing room, “Everyone get your butts in gear, else your killer drones will launch without your lazy asses.”

****

As a warhorse without a war these last two years, his wife dead and his youngest children independent, Thad was happy. They were about to strike back at the Empire, even if it was with a small force. On a surface examination, it was a vastly lighter attack force, compared to what the Empire had sent against the Federation colony world of Zanzibar Redoux. Only twelve ships were being used here, versus the four hundred fifty-four ships that the Empire’s Force Commander had used. That Empire fleet had essentially been forced to withdraw without taking possession of the Federation colony world. The only ships that touched down on the planet had done so as flaming wreckage.

However, if a casualty count was considered a measure of success at Zanzibar, the Empire had won handily, because they killed or crippled twice as many Federation citizens as they lost in Ragnar combat forces. Greeves didn’t know this, but fortunately, for the Ragnar Force Commander, the Thandol did consider body counts of value, and Thond had inflated the counts of enemy killed.

This retaliation attack wasn’t intended to kill civilians, but it had the potential to do damage to the Empire’s largest repair docks, to hit another one of their seven surviving giant Crusher class weapons platforms, and destroy more of the ships of the Ragnar fleet that had hit Zanzibar 2.

“All hands. We exit in ten minutes. First priority is to start gathering target coordinates for the first six Nova bombs, which will hit targets on this side of Meglor. Alyson, Ethan, and Carson, it will take up to a minute for your drone AI’s to obtain the mass concentrations and locations, calculate the Jump coordinates and upload them into the Nova bombs. I want you to launch quickly at your targets, and then move to where you can slow down and directly engage that Crusher, to draw its fire.

“Your gas-filled ships are what got this mission authorized in the first place. If possible, keep both Trap Fields filled with a Jump energy tachyon. If your drones survive multiple Decoherence bombs, use them as larger Nova bombs or simply as rams if you can’t Jump.

“Before that happens, all the rest of you need to be firing missiles, lasers, and plasma bolts at anything you find worth your time, and keep your drones moving constantly. You can use Comtap to coordinate your combined fire if you wish. Once we collect data on Decoherence bomb strikes on the three test ships, that Crusher is dead meat any way we can get it done, thus poking a finger in the Empire’s eye again. But not like a goose in the ass, as one uncouth team member described it.”

Sarge only sniffed at being called uncouth. It was hard to refute a self-evident trait.

Greeves continued, “Let Grumpy help your drone AIs with target calculations as much as possible, and to relay them to your AI’s.” Grumpy was the name Sarge had given the Sneaky Bastard’s AI system.

“The PU military doesn’t use a particularly high level AI on its shuttles, so they’ll need some help to operate a clanship. Stay focused, and be patient with how slowly your drones respond after you decide what to do, and the command has been sent to the drone. The AI interface with the Krall weapons and navigation controls are slower than we’re used to on our ships, even though the Prada tachyon communication devices are instantaneous, unjammable and untraceable. Those basic AI’s can’t work instantaneously.”

He concluded. “Good hunting and good luck. Captain out.”

He’d used a group Comtap link, because eight of the Kobani aboard the Bastard were scattered around the ship, partly as a precaution if the ship was hit, something they considered unlikely with their advanced stealth, but mostly so they could reload missile racks if Sarge found time late in the attack to fire on additional targets.

There was only room for four people on the Olt’kitapi designed Bridge control console, which had been the number that the Krall had wanted. Human modifications there were mainly an advanced AI interface, and four acceleration couches. Thad would coordinate the overall attack from a com station, and control his own drone ship. Sarge would navigate the command ship and engage in limited fighting with missiles, and target his Nova.

Ethan and Carson split control of the Bastard’s four heavy lasers, and its four plasma cannons between them, which were another set of weapons that should see limited use today. Firing anything from the stealthed Sneaky Bastard eliminated the Sneaky aspect of its given name. They too would each control a drone ship. None of them expected to do much firing from the command ship itself, since that cost them the advantage of their covert observation post.

The other eight Kobani, posted near missile bays down below, were also linked to a drone ship AI, and unless Sarge fired missiles, they wouldn’t have any reloading of empty racks to do. The Thandol had stealth and detection systems that matched what the Krall had possessed, because the Thandol had made certain they had the equivalent capability the Olt’kitapi had provided to the Krall so long ago, to fight the enemy the Empire had expected to face eventually. The Thandol had taken pains to verify the Krall had never improved on that stealth system, and none of their own alien opponents had ever matched that capability.

Absent a major war to push military technological developments, the Thandol had remained conservative in their acceptance of change, as was a common attitude of most successful, slow evolving space going species. Their trunks were about to be tweaked, yet again, by upstart humans.

The Thandol knew the Federation possessed those former Krall clanships now, but until the fight at Zanzibar 2, no member of the Empire had any way of knowing the Federation had improved their stealth systems. It was a hard sale, by the Ragnar to the skeptical Thandol, that the same clanships operated by humans, seemed to be invisible in the electromagnetic spectrum. It was dismissed as an excuse for their weak showing.

The Emperor’s cousin was sent along on that attack as an observer, but he had zero military background, with his sole claim to that position being that he was a supportive noble of Emperor Farlol the 84th’s family. He’d naturally not noticed anything unusual, including the fact that his ship, a Smasher, had been disabled in the fight and he’d been deceptively moved to another Smasher without him even noticing. Not even the Ragnar had yet discovered the limited visibility of the Kobani ships at long wave radio frequencies.

Today, the Sneaky Bastard’s raid could further complicate the Ragnar’s claim that they needed better detection systems, and better stealth of their own against human ships, because the eleven drones didn't have advanced stealth or gamma ray suppression. None of the pieces of Kobani ships destroyed at Zanzibar had been recovered by the Ragnar, which could have provided samples of the new stealth hull coating.

Sarge’s ship was the only one of the flotilla today that would arrive without a White Out burst of gamma rays, so the Ragnar claim of Federation technological improvements easily could again be discounted by the conservative Thandol. They didn’t want to provide new technology to their secondary security forces, particularly of systems that Thandol ships didn’t already possess. Military technology updates moved at a glacial pace in the vast Empire, where innovations were suppressed and controlled by the dominant species.

Thad linked for a final alert. “Not that any of you need this reminder, but White Out is in thirty seconds. Let’s hit them hard.”

The exit points of all twelve ships were in an arc around a quarter of Meglor’s equator, at roughly five hundred fifty miles. This was calculated to place them less than twenty miles below two of the largest, of eight huge repair docks, and close to two of the smaller docks. It was possible that these weren’t the most desirable docks to attack first, but the flotilla’s arrival timing was calculated to place the largest docks directly between them and the massive Crusher orbiting above them at a thousand miles. The interfering mass of the docks and tethered ships should delay that giant ship’s acquisition of their mass centers, necessary for it to launch its Decoherence bombs accurately at the internal voids within the clanships.

The two Ragnar prisoners captured at Zanzibar told them that the damaged ships of their former fleet, including the Thandol built Smashers they used, would be relegated to lesser docks, in an orbit nearly half way around the planet from the largest two Thandol used docks.

Eleven bursts of gamma rays sprayed in all directions, accompanied in seconds by the first salvo of missiles, fired in the general direction of the four docks, with the intent of providing them guidance as soon as active sensor scans provided specifics within another few seconds.

Carson let out a loud cowboy whoop on the Bridge. “Yee Haw! Ethan, look what we have on our dock. Stranglers being stored or still under construction.”

Their two drone clanships were right below a ten-mile long dock, which had several dozen Strangler class ships attached on the planetary side of the dock, all of them double docked in what appeared to be storage positions, with construction under way on ten Smasher class ships they could see, being modified to become Stranglers. This required most of one peak of the pyramidal ships to be removed, and heavy ground attack and defense armament to be installed, along with the Debilitater projectors on the wide base side that remained. FC Gimtal Thond hadn’t convince the Thandol to work on improved stealth, but the value of Debilitater projectors mounted on new Stranglers was something they would approve.

Ethan was quick to respond. “I’ll split them with you. I’ll do spinward. We’ll each need another missile salvo, unless we use our Novas.”

Thad interjected. “Only one of you use a Nova on the dock itself, find another target for the other one.”

Without waiting to hear which would do what, he linked to Maggi. “There are Smashers and Stompers on your dock Maggi. Nova the dock end closest to the Smashers, and use missiles for the Stompers at the other end.”

“Teach me to suck eggs why don’t you?” She had already directed missiles to hit the troop transport Stompers, which would cause them less damage than the Nova was expected to cause on the several miles long dock structure, and incidentally to the more dangerous Smasher weapons platforms docked close to that end. Thandol troop landers were only used after a planet’s defenses were severely compromised by Smashers and Crushers, and even then, only after one of the other security forces had worked the planet over.

Thad looked at Sarge, an eyebrow raised, knowing that he’d been linked in with him on the general Comtap circuit.

Responding verbally to Greeves’ implied question, Sarge smirked, “I don't have any damned idea what she means by egg sucking. But I’ll bet it means she knew what to do, so kindly piss off.” Thad grinned, shook his head and shrugged. Maggi often used incomprehensible expressions that were from centuries past.

Alyson spoke up excited. “I don't believe it. That Crusher we damaged at Wendal, when we destroyed the one over the Emperor’s palace, is right here undergoing repairs at the third spinward Thandol dock. That’s where my Nova is going, which will eliminate most of that four-mile long dock with it when it goes.”

Three Novas now had declared assignments, and three more would go to some portion of the four repair docks in view on this side of the planet. The other six would be fired at the four docks around the curve of the planet. They would have to wait for the Bastard and drones to micro Jump there, to bring those docks into direct view. The small AIs used on the drone clanships, as Sarge had noted in an earlier complaint, “Can’t walk and chew at the same time.”

The large amount of sensor data a clanship could generate, and that a Comtap and Kobani could receive and process, exceeded what those AI’s could receive and transmit while they were simultaneously targeting and firing weapons. All of the drone clanships were firing plasma bolts and heavy lasers at anything that moved, or looked like a promising target. That included less glamorous targets than warships, which were well armored against such weapons. They were striking infrastructure, such as space tugs, mobile repair platforms, personnel transports and habitats, and the heavy lifters from the planet below, where large structural components for the repairs were built and lifted to the docks. There were vital massive Jump engines and huge completed weapons pods, all shipped in from industries around the Empire and stored on the docks, awaiting installation on a variety of warship types.

This target would only be a soft one this first time, just as Wendal had been, and they could do more to slow the Empire’s preparation for a large-scale war, here and now, than after hostilities escalated and they were more alert. A large Federation force of thousands of ships, or even as low as a few hundred, would have flagged itself as an obvious threat while still days away from Meglor, and it would have been met by a massive and significant defense. At this stage, the conflict was a sparring match, with each side feeling the other out, seeking vulnerabilities and testing strengths. The Kobani had found one of the soft underbellies in the Empire, and they were here to gut it.

Alyson ended up with the privilege of launching the first Nova II in combat, because her drone had emerged so close to its target. She ordered the AI to use the coordinates of a mass concentration that might be a collection of fusion power plants, possibly a Jump engine, or the armor shell around the Crusher’s Bridge. In any case, the mass of a half-ton of metal emerging from Tachyon Space within other solid metal would result in an explosion equivalent to a tactical nuke.

Her excited squeal of delight, as the ripple ‘of explosive forces worked their way out from the center of the equilateral giant ship, sounded grossly at variance with the massive death and violence she’d just inflicted on the enemy. Her husband would be hearing about her exploit for years.

Oh, Joy! Was Carson’s sarcastic thought, as his relatively puny missiles started exploding inside the docked Stranglers. Even if he and Ethan were justified in claiming the Stranglers were a greater risk to Koban, their destruction was visually less spectacular.

To make it worse, Ethan had won at Rock, Paper, Scissors, and his Nova was erupting within the center of the same miles long dock, where a cluster of fusion power plants had been detected, providing a good high mass intersect target.

Even Maggie’s Nova had hit home, within mass concentration of her assigned dock, and it was blasting away multiple tumbling Smashers, some of which had trajectories that might take them down to the fringes of the atmosphere, where drag would finish the destruction. The craft had far more than enough mass to survive the reentry, and they would cause massive damage if they struck anything of value on the surface of the heavily industrialized planet.

Sergey had negotiated with Carol, and they had traded which docks they would hit, so he launched his Nova at the fourth dock on this side of Meglor, where smaller or midsized Thandol craft were docked, some of which appeared to be military cargo transports. Worth the destruction effort, but Carol had wanted a chance at the Ragnar ships when they micro Jumped near them. He wore a broad smile, but neither of them revealed what was offered to him to take the less prestigious target. The damaged Ragnar ships were a much-desired set of targets, and they would only partly be Carol’s to destroy. She’d have to split them with Thad, Bill and Fred Saber, Jorl, and with Bradley, who was Ethan’s younger brother.

Carson had yet to launch his Nova at this first stop in the attack, and Thad reminded him to get busy. “Carson, I need your Nova gone, so we can move the three test drones out to where that Crusher can see them. It’s started to move, to get a better view of us.”

A quick study of what was a good target, and he selected the end of the largest repair dock, which was still intact, where only missiles had hit docked ships. They constituted worthy targets, but somehow seemed less satisfying than what the others had hit. He launched.

Thad then ordered the three target drones to move out from behind the spreading wreckage of the docks and damaged ships. “Alyson, Ethan, and Carson, micro Jump your ships out to where the Crusher has a clear view, and launch missiles right at it, or at any other target it can also see, that it needs to defend. Draw its fire. I think we can be damn sure it’s Captain is pissed off enough now.” He grinned.

Ethan had the drone with pure Sulfur Hexafluoride for internal atmosphere, which was the densest gas being used. Alyson’s drone was filled with a mix of Carbon Dioxide and fifty percent Sulfur Hexafluoride, as the next most dense, and Carson’s test ship held Carbon Dioxide and twenty percent Xenon. All of these were denser than the range of gases found on habitable planets. They’d know in moments if the Decoherence bombs were able to survive their appearance in a medium as dense as these gases, but which were far less dense than inside a solid or even a liquid.

They launched their last salvo of missiles the moment they made their White Outs. One of the newly revealed target drones was hit within several seconds, and hit multiple times in rapid succession, proving how potent the delivery method was of those matter disintegration warheads.

Carson, in rapid Comtap communications, said, “Crap, they’re peppering the hell out of my drone. I think there were nine hits in two seconds. Oops, four more. Damn, I lost Trap fields, my Jump engine, and if I’d carried reaction mass fuel, it would be an orange fireball. One of them has vaporized part of both binary fuel tanks. The overpressure of bulkheads and decks turning into gas has sprung leaks along most of the patched seams of the hull, and it’s losing atmosphere. I think the huge pressure increase could have killed or disabled any crew aboard that wasn’t in body armor. Ahh, nuts. I lost my link to the AI. My ship is lost. Somebody please put some missiles into it.” They didn’t want drones left even partly intact.

Alyson had said nothing yet, because her drone, considered the second most vulnerable, used a slightly higher gas density than Carson’s craft, and it hadn’t been hit by Decoherence bombs, which would suddenly rotate out of Tachyon Space. Then that situation abruptly ended, not only for her drone, but for Ethan’s drone as well.

“Hey!” Alyson said. Sounding like someone had just snatched her credit chit. “They hit my drone just outside the hull at several places, and I’m venting atmosphere through huge holes.”

“Uh, on my ship too.” Ethan admitted. “Nothing hit inside, but they must be taking cookie cutter bites out of the hull. I’ve lost four Trap emitters and dumped both of my tachyons. I can’t Jump it away or use the Normal Space drive. It’s a sitting duck.”

Alyson’s drone was quickly lost as well. “Darn. Lost my AI link. Now I can’t even ram them. Damn it.”

Jorl shouted out in annoyance. “What the hell? I lost control of my drone. It didn’t seem like Decoherence bombs, it just stopped responding.”

Carson had the answer. “I can see the debris on my console, where your drone was located. I think it was a missile hit. Perhaps you were watching the test ships and forgot to duck?”

Jorl didn’t deny his distraction. “That’s just great! My Nova was being saved for the other four docks.”

Thad had also been watching and thinking about the test ships. He grimaced and nodded his head, only in hindsight grasping a detail they had overlooked. They had miscalculated how the Thandol could use their weapon. Only those on the Bridge saw the expression and nod, and Ethan asked, “What did you just figure out Dad?”

“That the two denser gases we used were successful in blocking those bombs from arriving internally in your drone, and Alyson’s.”

Sarge grunted. “Please save our asses from more successes like that, OK? They took out all three drones in about ten seconds. How can you say the two denser gasses worked?”

“Because that Crusher must have been unable to target the bombs inside the interiors of the last two drones, not without losing them to destructive intersects of their circuits with high density gas molecules. Therefore, they simply targeted the hulls from the vacuum side. That was dumb of us not to foresee that possibility. The gas defense is a failure, so let’s go make a mess out of the four smaller docks before we go home. Everyone prepare to micro Jump your drones to the other side of Meglor, but leave them ghosted until the Sneaky Bastard arrives in stealth, to assess the situation there. Sarge, launch your Nova into that big bastard and let’s Jump.”

“Right.” He sent a launch command to the AI, Grumpy, and told it to execute the ship’s micro Jump immediately after the Nova’s launch. That’s when things suddenly got very confused, and turned deadly.

All of the crew was wearing their body armor, but they had left their helmets attached to clips behind their suit’s neck opening or at their waist, for quick access if needed. With their ship’s stealth, they knew they were invisible to the electromagnetic sensors of the Empire, as had been proven at Zanzibar 2. That was a poor decision.

The sudden slamming of between-deck pressure seals, at multiple staircase openings and two elevator columns wasn’t due to air loss from a hull breach; it was caused by a rapid pressure increase. The airtight seals came too late to prevent all of the overpressure from propagating throughout most of the ship.

The ears of those on the Bridge experienced what could be classed as moderately painful barotrauma, because of their greater distance from the cause, and much of the accompanying temperature and pressure increase was prevented at the bow of the ship by the fast action of the lower level’s airtight seals. Those people located twenty decks lower suffered considerable ear pain, and lungs and gastrointestinal tracts were involved in the pressure shock they received through the suit openings at their necks. The temperature suddenly went up as rapidly as the pressure, but not to a dangerous level. This pressure increase was due to a volume of decking, bulkheads, and normal atmosphere, suddenly being converted into atomized gasses, which demanded the right to expand, which was instantly granted by the gas laws of physics. The rapid pressure and temperature jump wasn’t enough to be life threatening, but it was painful.

A single Decoherence warhead had appeared in the relative low-pressure void of ordinary atmosphere, found between two decks spaced fifteen feet apart, and located equal distance between bulkheads in an empty equipment storage area. The one hundred twenty-one-foot range of the fifth force, when radiated in all directions, encompassed a spherical volume of two hundred forty-two feet in diameter.

That force, when modulated and applied in a particular way, altered the quantum probability of molecular orbitals continuing to hold atoms together in covalent bonds. This resulted in the breaking of most of those bonds, allowing the electrostatic interactions and the quantum nature of electrons to take effect. Fortunately, the fifth force didn’t hold sway over the binding of the strong nuclear forces, or else an expanding sphere of radiant energy might have eventually been visible as an intense and brief flash of light in the next stellar system, after a suitable number of years.

The soft pop of a warhead, heard when experienced in an open atmosphere on a planet, was not so soft when contained as it was inside the Sneaky Bastard. All the material within that sphere of disintegration, which extended through nearly 16 decks, and laterally included various bulkheads of compartments on each deck, plus the assorted equipment, stowed gear, missiles and launchers nearby. That material abruptly expanded into the lower pressure of their surroundings.

Included in that gas was what formerly had been organic compounds, most from one person, and part from another. The one with merely parts missing, screamed, but he only had a right hand to press to the pain in his right ear, and with no left leg to support him, he would have fallen into the sudden chasm had not the great rush of gasses pushed him away. He fell to his right side, as blood started to gush from above where the left elbow had been, and nearly the entire left leg from mid-thigh down was gone.

Fred Saber had been half sitting on a missile rack at the edge of the boundary of the warhead’s effect, his left leg and elbow had been propped on equipment. He oddly didn’t feel a great deal of pain from the incredibly precise line of the weapon’s effect. The pain that elicited his scream, experienced and heard by all via the group Comtap link, wasn’t a reflection of his physical pain, but rather the emotion he experienced when he saw where the missile bay next to his had been. His brother Bill had been stationed there.

No further Decoherence bombs rotated out of Tachyon Space within the Sneaky Bastard, because it had Jumped. Although, unknown to the crew, dozens more had emerged where it had been, just after Grumpy, efficiently following instructions, had taken the ship to the other side of Meglor after launching the Nova II bomb.

Bradley and Maggi were the first to reach Fred, and Maggi promptly sent Bradley to activate one of four med labs they had aboard, setting it for emergency trauma treatment. She leaped up two decks, through a gaping opening, to reach a kitchen level where food was sometimes prepared when a larger complement was aboard There she grabbed up rolls of paper products, and a Smart Cloth tablecloth. She’d been in Comtap link with Sergey and Carol, the next closest crew, and they arrived just as she swung down through the hole in the decks to join them.

They used the paper towels by the handfuls to apply pressure to the gaping wounds, to stem blood loss, and lifted Fred’s now unconscious form onto the tablecloth, to use it as a makeshift stretcher. Bradley was back from the med lab in minutes.

Throughout the process, Maggi had kept the Bridge informed of what had happened, and told them to continue the mission if able. Thad had promptly told them that Bill was the only person missing, and Fred the only one injured. The mission was continuing, and the damaged elements of the Ragnar fleet from Zanzibar would be hit next. Thad redistributed control of the remaining seven drone clanships, reporting that another one had been destroyed. The fourth drone lost was Maggi’s, because she’d been busy helping Fred, and it had largely completed its mission anyway, having only a single salvo of missiles remaining, and the less effective laser and plasma cannons.

Maggi said, “We’re stripping off Fred’s suit, and we’ll place him in the med lab in a moment. We have pressure on the left arm where he lost that above the elbow, and on the middle of his left thigh, where his leg vanished. Sergey picked up the left forearm and hand from below the elbow, where it was severed. That can be saved and reattached to save regrowth time. It’s been placed in a cooler compartment in another med lab. Fred’s med lad is using tourniquets to stop the bleeding until it sutures arteries and bleeders, and a large number of trauma nanites have been injected. He’ll be kept under, but even from his unconscious mind, a Mind Tap clearly revealed he was aware that his brother was gone.”

She changed subjects. “What are we doing at the other docks?”

“Here is what I’m seeing.” Thad opened up an image link via his Comtap, so the four working to save Fred could see what was happening, as reported by the ships sensors on Bridge displays.

Carol had questions. “Sarge, how did that Crusher see us to hit us? Has it moved to where it can do it again?”

“No idea how they saw us, since we haven’t detected long wave radio transmissions, and that low resolution detection method isn’t very precise even when it’s used. Thankfully, that Crusher is too busy to chase us right now. I think it could likely continue the fight, since just before we Jumped, the last images demonstrate my Nova didn’t destroy the sucker. My bomb must have made its exit mostly in a void, outside of a lot of solid metal. Exactly the opposite of the areas the Crusher tries to target with their disintegration bombs. The explosion didn’t come close to breaking it apart, but it must be in damage control mode right now.

“It may have a design feature like PU dreadnaughts and battleships, with a redundant Bridge and weapons station away from the core of the ship. If so, it isn’t done fighting yet. But it will be before we’re finished, provided it doesn’t Jump and run away. I don't think they’ll risk sending a Crusher against Federation ships or worlds ever again. They may have had their fill of our Novas for those monster sized ships.”

****

Captain Butala Halder, of the Emperor’s Trumpet, wasn’t on the Bridge when the urgent alert reached him from his Vice-Captain, reporting that eleven enemy ships had just made exits from Tachyon Space at Meglor, and they were using the huge Thandol docks as shields from the Trumpet’s weapons. He was in the nobility’s grazing area, enjoying a variety of fresh tender grass, and golden sugar spear shoots, with some of his lower ranking noble peers.

He was a competent leader, however, and reacted instantly. “VC Candar, recall any available crews of the ships that are still at the docks, and order the ship AI’s to switch all of their weapon systems online for them, to be ready to fire before they arrive. Move us around the docks to where we can target the enemy. The Decoherence launchers don’t need to wait for us to get around the obstructing docks, the warheads travel through Tachyon Space. Fire them when you have the enemy’s lowest-mass-density coordinates.”

“Sire the launchers are already online but we can’t yet get usable mass detection targeting coordinates for them, or use radar for missile guidance with the docks blocking us. I ordered the helm to move us even before I called you, and we’re headed to where we will be able to see them via line-of-sight very soon. I have all missile bays, lasers, and plasma cannons armed for use.”

The Vice-Captain now sounded nervous. “The enemy made their White Outs much closer to the docks than the safe margins we allow for ships without gamma ray suppression. The mass of the docks, and the many ships attached to them, are distorting our gravitational mass detection measurements of the voids within the targets. We can’t even identify the precise location of the ships, let alone where the internal low-density voids are located. If the warheads emerge inside them, and their trigger circuits are damaged on exit, the enemy will have a sample of an undetonated warhead to study.”

Captain Halder hadn’t realized how close the enemy ships had emerged to the docks, placing those obstacles between themselves and the only full time active protection for this planet, the Crusher. The Emperor’s Trumpet was positioned in a normal parking orbit for a ship its size, and until today, there had never been cause to worry about an attack on the docks. Just as there had never been a concern for a sneak attack on Wendal. The Empire had grown too complacent with their tight control over their own people and subservient species.

“I’m on my way to the Bridge, keep me informed of your actions.”

“Yes, Sire.”

He was in an elite grazing area, where fresh forage was grown. The large compartment providing users with a sun-filtered view of the outside universe, the planet and docks in this case. It was located near one of the huge pyramid’s corners. He had a hurried walk to reach a nearby transport hub station, in order to travel deeper into the vast ship, to reach the centrally located and armored Bridge.

The battle might be over before I arrive, he thought. With so few ships, this had to be a small smash and flee raid by the Federation. That was quite prescient of him, if a bit short sighted.

He saw two bright actinic flashes flare from two separate, multiple miles long docks, which was quickly dampened by the active filtering of the transparent hull segment, which suggested something had been used on the scale of a small nuclear weapon. He broke into a lumbering run, seldom seen in a high rank noble, and never for this extremely formal Captain.

There were lesser flashes observed, where laser and plasma beams struck ships undergoing repair or refurbishment, and more fragile dock infrastructure was being hit. He soon saw smaller flashes and debris sprays, from what had to be the slower missiles reaching their targets, which were the docked warships. Meglor was completely unprepared for an attack like this, located so deep inside Empire territory.

Rushing along a wide corridor to the closest transport hub, Halder’s trunks and tentacles were brusquely waving, and he startled every Thandol into getting out of his way even before they saw his insignia of rank. He didn’t socialize with these lower ranks, and of course never ate with them, so he wasn’t identifiable on sight.

He needed more information from his Vice-Captain. “Candar how is it that we didn’t see these eleven unknown ships coming? They’re obviously from the Federation, and they didn’t spend the many months required to travel here in the undetectable first level of Tachyon Space. They would have needed to depart even before their attack at Wendal.”

“Sire, they masqueraded as three Smashers, in formation in third level travel, and our monitors observed their back trail past many star systems, originating deep in the Thack Delos security sector. They appeared to be like many similar past arrivals, warships coming here for repairs or refurbishment. It is similar to the penetration method used at Wendal, but for three Smashers this time, not a Crusher scale deception.”

It was clever mimicry, but Halder didn’t feel the slightest hint of respect for their ingenuity and daring. He wanted them destroyed, and traced back to where they really originated. His quick mind suddenly caught an anomaly in the report.

“What happened to the twelfth ship? Where is it?”

“Sire? We detected only eleven White Outs, and reports from four dock control stations confirm that there are only eleven attackers.”

“They needed four ships to mimic each Smasher trail. Find the missing one immediately. It may be the flagship for this attack group, and it could be holding station in Tachyon Space.”

“Yes, Sire.” He buggled his acknowledgement in an uncertain mix of tones from his left trunk. The Vice-Captain wasn’t an expert on the Tachyon Space monitoring craft that traced ship movements in the Empire, but he knew the ships they detected all had to be moving, in order to create a detectable tachyon wake.

As he ordered one of the four monitoring ships permanently based at Meglor to enter Tachyon Space, he knew it would hold in place there, in order to communicate with the active monitor ship already there. That caused him to think about the reason why the second ship needed to enter to talk. It was impossible to communicate with a ship in Tachyon Space unless you were also in a Jump Hole. The modulated low energy tachyon waves of the communication couldn’t be detected otherwise. That is, it couldn’t if you were using the Empire’s current best technology.

The supposed Federation ship, suspected of holding in place in Tachyon Space by Captain Halder, wouldn’t be able to communicate with the other eleven ships in Normal Space. It was a plausible assumption, but mistaken in this case. Comtap technology actually did work between Normal and Tachyon Space, but the Sneaky Bastard happened to be in Normal Space, using advanced stealth and gamma ray suppression on its entry. Nevertheless, Halder’s wrong idea served a useful purpose shortly, when the presence of the twelfth ship was confirmed. Not that this success benefited the Vice-Captain very long.

The destruction of the docks was proving to be catastrophic, and when the unpowered Empire’s Tentacles suddenly exploded, Halder realized his own ship was at risk. The humans were using the same weapon they used at Wendal to destroy the Emperor’s Pride. It employed a similar delivery method, but relied on brute force to destroy the target, with the resultant collateral destruction of nearby objects by the high velocity fragments generated.

The Decoherence bombs were considerably less messy, and the Empire was left with subject species and property that they could assimilate. The humans were mimicking the destructive pattern of the Krall, a technique that had so repelled and frightened the Thandol that they avoided allowing the Krall from learning the Empire existed. Humans were using the same blunt force methods.

Captain Halder was less than a third of the way to the Bridge when VC Candar reported the destruction of three of the enemy clanships via Decoherence hits. They had micro Jumped to where the Emperor’s Trumpets’ mass detectors could easily sense their internal mass concentrations. One was promptly disabled via the normal internal targeting of low mass voids within the target, and the other two required what were termed Adjacent Hits when there are no safe low-density internal voids detected. All three were rapidly disabled, and their crews presumably killed.

VC Candar, in a surprise to him, reported that his superior’s suspicion of a hidden twelfth human ship had just been confirmed. Their gravity based mass detectors had just found an unseen enemy ship, within the cluster of ships attacking the docks.

“We found the twelfth ship you predicted Sire, I’ve ordered it destroyed. There is an unusual anomaly, because it…” He was about to say that the anomaly was that the ship was invisible to their electromagnetic sensors. He never completed that report because a Nova II abruptly made an exit from Tachyon Space, emerging only partially inside the massive armored shell surrounding the Crusher’s Bridge, the remainder appearing mostly within a corridor leading to that central mass. Nevertheless, the Bridge and crew inside were instantly pulverized by the blast from one side.

The Nova’s launch from the Sneaky Bastard had been slightly off target, due to the disruptive internal pressure wave, caused by the near simultaneous arrival of a Decoherence bomb, ten decks higher. However, even off target, the explosion was adequate to destroy the central portion of the Crusher, although not powerful enough to break up the vast warship.

In the brief confusion of the mutual damage, the Bastard’s crew was able to recover, and micro Jumped themselves and the surviving drones to the other side of Meglor. On the Emperor’s Trumpet, Captain Halder struggled to establish contact with the Lieutenant, who was on duty in the Alternate Command Center.

That backup control room was a half-mile away from the Bridge, in one of the spires of the pyramidal shaped craft. The internal transport car carrying Halder had halted when the ship’s power had failed briefly, before the distributed computer circuits containing their main Artificial Intelligence, designated Ship Manager, reorganized power distribution from backup sources and rerouted command and control to the ACC. The Captain was finally able to get the AI to respond to his security codes, coming as they were amid thousands of other calls, from a seemingly insignificant transport car, located within the labyrinth web of the ship’s internal transport system.

“Ship Manager, the highest priority is to route my transport car to the ACC as quickly as possible, and connect me to whichever Lieutenant is on duty there today.” The never before used backup control center, at least never used in combat, was typically employed as a training assignment for young nobles rising in the ranks of Thandol naval officers. This untested young Thandol officer would have control of the most powerful class of ship in the Empire.

“Yes, Sire. I will have to route your car around the damage near the center of the ship. Fire suppression and damage repair crews have the central transportation tunnels blocked, and the central hub station is presumed destroyed by the explosion that occurred near the Bridge. It will take longer for you to reach the Alternate Command Center.”

Halder had previously thought the battle would be over before he reached the Bridge, and it nearly had been, with his ship the loser. Now he had another chance to conduct the fight, and he didn’t want some damn inexperienced Lieutenant botching what would certainly be the greatest combat test this Crusher had ever faced, with Halder still stuck in a damned transport car.

“Just get me there by the fastest means possible. And I told you that I want to speak to whoever is on duty in the ACC, and I mean right now!”

“Lieutenant Thudglat Farlol has so far not responded to my hails, or to calls to his embedded communicator, Sire. However, I am in contact with the Master Chief of the Watch there, Jatrol Thivbolt. I did not connect you to him, because you specifically asked…” The AI was roughly interrupted, with Halder using the Imperative grammar mode, normally reserved for living creatures.

“Obey me. Connect me to the Master Chief, immediately.” He would find out exactly where this distant cousin of the Emperor’s family was, in this time of emergency.

“Master Chief Thivbolt here.”

“This is Captain Halder. Where is Lieutenant Farlol?”

There was a sound of relief in the bugling trumpet of Thivbolt. “Sire, I feared you died on the Bridge. The Lieutenant is in his quarters, with a young female he brought aboard with him. He left orders not to be disturbed, and has disconnected himself from all external communications. I’m not authorized to leave the ACC unless he is here, and I can’t share my security code with the others here with me. That code is needed to override the lockout at his quarters.”

“Master Chief, you have acted properly. Are you informed of our situation?”

“Yes, Sire. The Federation has attacked the docks, and destroyed our Bridge with a weapon similar to the one they used at Wendal. I have our sensor feeds active here in the ACC, with navigation and weapons control available here. I’m awaiting orders.”

“Excellent. I’m on my way there, but I need to know where the enemy ships have gone. Do we have Jump capability?”

“Sire, all eight surviving enemy ships Jumped, and sensor tracks show they have gone to the other side of Meglor. I assume they will continue their attack on those docks. We lost our Jump Tachyons when power failed, and I apologize for acting without orders, but I reestablished our Trap fields and we have three Jump energy tachyons available.”

“I commend you Master Chief. I order you to micro Jump to the other side of Meglor and authorize you to engage all of the Decoherence launchers to destroy the enemy ships as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, Sire, I had already ordered the Navigation computer to compute such a Jump. However, four of our twelve launchers were disabled or destroyed in the explosion. I also do not possess the security codes to authorize the Jump, or for firing any of our weapons. We would arrive defenseless even if I could order the Jump.”

“I’ll transmit my personal codes required for the Jump, for launchers, lasers, plasma cannons, and missiles to the ACC command console. Fire on arrival.” Halder sent them to the main console where the Master Chief was poised. This competent Thandol noncommissioned officer would be receiving a meritorious field promotion to Lieutenant, replacing his soon to be executed former superior.

“Sire, we will Jump the instant I have acknowledgement from the weapons masters of the codes you sent, and they have your orders to fire at will on the enemy.”

“Very good. I hope to be there before the shooting ends.”

This cursed second half of the battle could also be over before I reach the ACC, Halder thought sourly.

True prescience implied knowledge of things before they existed or happened, and Captain Halder’s ability was merely one of experience, an ability to predict probable outcomes of actions that he knew could take place in a short timeframe. If prescient, he might have altered his instructions. As a loyal Empire patriot, probably not. He’d attack.

****

The reception to the Kobani arrival on the opposite side of Meglor was decidedly different from the White Outs close to the huge Thandol docks, where they had caught the enemy completely by surprise.

“Holy shit!” That exclamation from Sarge echoed the sentiments of all seven of the drone controllers. They were confronted with salvos of anti-ship missiles already in flight, and a latticework of heavy lasers and plasma bolts, crisscrossing the volume of space below the docks, even before the Bastard had emerged. Somebody had anticipated their next stop when they entered their Jump Holes, leaving behind the disintegrating Thandol docks, and the wounded but functional Crusher.

It was good that Thad had told them to Jump the drones, but to leave them ghosting in Tachyon Space, while the stealthed Sneaky Bastard did its surveillance of where the choicest targets were. They could have lost several of them before they could do any damage. Nevertheless, there was ample empty space below the docks where the drones could emerge, but the instant their gamma ray bursts were detected, lasers and plasma cannons would adjust, and radar guidance would quickly direct the missiles already in flight towards them.

It was readily apparent the orbits immediately below these four docks where the damaged ships of the Ragnar fleet were undergoing repair, was not the sort of benign empty volume the flotilla had entered on their initial arrival on the Thandol side. The Ragnar had left partial crews aboard their damaged craft, not just caretaker staff as the Thandol had done. These were apparently experienced combat crews, recently in a fight with humanity, and they were motivated to redeem their honor after the retreat they had been forced to make from Zanzibar 2. They had been forewarned that there was a Federation attack underway on the other docks, and a number of the Ravagers were already undocking.

Having first paw experience of human aggressiveness, Force Lieutenant Commander Grudfad, Gimtal Thond’s second in command, hadn’t paused to wonder if the humans would strike the orbital docks near him next, where the enemy of their last meeting had ships undergoing repair. He would certainly do so if he had that opportunity, therefore he was convinced the humans would do so.

He’d ordered preemptory fire at positions equivalent to where the human ships had appeared below the other docks, with instructions to hold fire by some weapons, having them pre-target the deceptively safe looking positions for White Outs.

Thad altered his plan on the fly. “Carol and Bradley set coordinates on your Novas for the two largest docks where most of the Ravagers are located.”

Carol protested. “Sir, I don't think I can compute coordinates from my drone’s Tachyon Space coordinates to the dock.”

“Nope, and don’t either of you try. Have Grumpy calculate it from an orbital position one hundred eighty-six thousand miles farther out than the target point on the dock, and upload the coordinates into the Nova. Then compute the Jump coordinates to put your drones at that orbital location. White Out where I said and set your AI’s to launch your Novas instantly, and then reenter a Jump Hole before the enemy sees your drones or gamma rays. If that works, we can try it four more times as the first two docks explode.”

Maggi was linked of course, and asked, “That’s pretty far out, but why won’t they see the drone’s gamma rays?”

“I didn’t mean they would never see them, but not for a full second after they exit. They’ll be back in a Jump Hole before the gamma rays arrive back here. Speed of light you know.” He grinned.

She nodded her understanding, but said, “Won’t that distance add uncertainty, and make the Nova’s targeting a bit fuzzy for hitting the best high mass areas?”

“Probably, but any blasts they cause will be enough to disrupt their plans, and give the rest of the drones a chance to fire Novas in the confusion, and all of us will get to launch missiles when the confusion starts.”

Sarge, monitoring his AI, saw the display of the coordinates for the Novas on his screen. “Carol, Bradley, transfer the Nova uploads, and Grumpy will have your Jump coordinates ready.”

In less than two minutes, the two drones were ready. Thad gave the order. “Jump and launch. I’m sure the Ragnar are wondering where the hell we are.”

****

Grudfad was impatient. “Where the drungshat are they? I refuse to believe these creatures would leave without trying to attack our ships.”

His question was answered faster than the velocity of light, because the two drones Jumped considerably faster than that, exiting a light second out, launched their Novas in a fraction of a second, and the bombs then arrived at the docks before the gamma rays did.

The targeting wasn’t perfect, as had been noted, but the Nova II intersects with material in the docks were adequate to generate explosions powerful enough to shatter the structures where they emerged. Orbital stations were not built to the rigorous specifications of warships, which were designed to withstand explosions. Nearly a hundred previously battle damaged Ravagers, and almost that many Ragnar controlled Smashers, were sent pinwheeling away. Most of them had suffered only minor hull damage to their stealth coatings at Zanzibar, but seven had significant damage from missile strikes.

The tumbling was viciously violent inside ships that had only their main fusion generators for power. Docked, many of them didn’t have their Trap fields extended to catch tachyons and therefore, didn’t have the energy density required to produce artificial gravity. Unable to counter the effects of inertia, the crewmembers they had aboard were pinned to bulkheads, ceilings, or decks of whichever compartment or corridor they were in when the ship was sent tumbling. Unable to move more than fingers and eyes, assuming they were still breathing after slamming hard into their current positions, those ships were defenseless targets for human ships. They also couldn’t offer updated guidance for the anti-ship missiles they had preemptively launched before the humans attacked on this side of Meglor.

In the midst of this confusion, the drones would briefly appear, launch missiles and fire cannons, then micro Jump away before the relatively few operational Ravagers, and one Smasher, could successfully target them.

Two more docks exploded when drones, one assigned to Fred but controlled by his close friend Jorl, launched its Nova. Bill’s Drone was under Maggi’s control when it fired its Nova into the fourth dock. These secondary docks were predominately used for repair and upgrades of Thandol merchant ships, and a handful of Ragnar civil use craft. Naturally, the docks could easily be repurposed to work on warships, so none of them were being left untouched.

That left two more Novas of the six they had reserved for use on this side of Meglor, but there were markedly fewer large targets, and the smaller sized docks had been considerably easier to break apart.

One Ravager, with only stealth coating damage, appeared to be more competently commanded, and even though the messages were encrypted, it made more transmissions than any other Ragnar craft. Often, after it transmitted, one or more enemy ships maneuvered, or micro Jumped in aggressive moves to counter one of the drones. Jorl lost his drone when it was suddenly caught between a micro Jumped Ravager and the operational Smasher he was attacking.

Maggi had used up all of the missiles of Fred’s drone, and Thad gave her a new task. Looking at his display, he sent her the image of the specific ship he wanted her to go after. “I think that one may have the highest ranking Ragnar here. It micro Jumps often, and seems to be giving orders to other ships. See if you can kill that guy.”

“I’m out of missiles, Thad.”

“No you aren’t, you’re remotely driving a damned big one. You didn’t think we were taking your drone home with us did you?” He laughed.

“You have a point. Let me trap a high-energy tachyon. If I can’t intersect or ram his ass, I might catch him in a large event horizon and slice him in half, or drag his butt into Tachyon Space, drop my fields and let him evaporate with the drone. I notice the Ragnar don't use that Krall trick of cutting sections from their opponents, as we did to them at Zanzibar, where we captured those two Ragnar.”

Sarge interjected with an observation. “Maggi, I don’t believe they even think of using overlarge event horizons, due to their smoother hull designs and millions of tiny Trap field emitters, where their Jump Holes are perfectly form fitting. That makes for a safe Jump from even inside an atmosphere, or when right next to other ships or orbital stations. I doubt they think like a barbarian Krall, or us murderous humans.” He laughed softly.

“Well, they traded their safety for a kick ass method of attack. The Dismantlers have contoured event horizons and Jump safely too, but they also can expand their Jump Holes and tow large objects with them. I think we should retain that ability on our new ship designs.”

Thad butted in again. “Yeah, well, you be sure and pass that along to the design committee. In the meantime, how about less talk and you go kill that Ragnar son of a bitch.”

“Ooh. A bossy boss man. Since you asked me to kill something so sweetly, I’ll do it just for you.”

It proved to be much easier to promise than do, with that ship maneuvering unexpectedly, and making frequent micro Jumps, almost like the Kobani method of up-close spacecraft warfare. It occurred to Maggi that this commander, or his pilot, had learned a thing or two at Zanzibar. She was also growing frustrated with how slowly her commands were followed by the AI installed on the drone. With split seconds involved in her decisions, and seconds delay in their execution, she repeatedly missed an intersect or ramming effort, and her guesses of where to fire cannons at places she hoped he would next appear, had missed him completely, although she twice hit tumbling ships instead.

Abruptly, Thad had a warning. “That damaged Crusher just reappeared around the limb of the planet, moving towards us fast. Button up your helmets, and I’m going to start micro Jumps and maneuvering, to foil their targeting us again. I don't know how the hell they managed to do that anyway if they can’t see us.”

Maggi had been using her drone’s mass detectors to help identify the Ravager she was trying to kill. All Ravagers she’d detected were similar, but each presented a slightly different sensor pattern for the various high mass density regions for targeting a Nova. She didn’t have one of those bombs, but she could now recognize when she was detecting the particular Ravager she wanted, told apart from a half dozen others that were actively firing on their drones, and micro Jumping. With annoyance, she realized a ship she had just scanned wasn’t the ship she wanted. She was now certain the Ravager Thad had chosen really did carry the ranking Ragnar here, who was directing the increasingly effective Ragnar response to their attack. She sensed that he appeared to be aware of her drone’s interest in his ship. He was uncanny at slipping away from her.

She looked at fresh sensor mass readouts as she heard Thad’s final comment, when he wondered how the Crusher had detected them. It felt like a simulated forehead slap when she had the answer.

“Thad, think! The Decoherence bombs aren’t targeted with electromagnetic sensors. They look for mass density, which means being electromagnetically stealthed doesn’t prevent them sensing where our mass is distributed internally. It’s probably harder to find us without radar or visual guidance to narrow the search area, but they did it once. They’ll be trying to do it now. We can’t let that sucker get any closer.”

“Good point. We just lost another drone, and I don’t know if was the Crusher which just appeared that did it or not, but it seems too coincidental. We’ve done as much damage as we came to do, except erase that big bastard, and it looks like you can’t catch that damned Ravager anyway.” He had an inspiration.

“I have my drone’s Nova targeted on a mass concentration in the Crusher, and you have your drone with a big tachyon in its Trap. I plan to hit deep in the spire pointing down at the planet, where I think there’s an armored control center. Then Jump my drone into the other side. Pick a spire but don’t actually intersect, just get close. Go steal as big a piece of it as you can tow. Your drone is leaving Meglor after all, with Thandol prisoners I hope. I’ll launch my Nova, then I’ll Jump the drone to intersect the moment you say you got away with a chunk of that ship.”

“Guess I’m glad I didn’t kill that slippery damned Ravager after all. This could be more worthwhile. I have Grumpy feeding the Jump coordinates…” She paused a moment.

“Done. As soon as the drone exits close by, another large Jump Hole should form, and it’ll rotate back to Tachyon Space and we’ll see if we bit off more than we can chew. Here we go.”

The drone vanished into a Jump Hole, and instantly reappeared adjacent to one of the edges leading away from the spire that Thad was going to blast with the Nova. It formed another event horizon, far larger than it required for moving itself, and rotated out of Normal Space. A remarkably large, perfect section of a sphere, cut nearly a tenth of a mile deep into the Crusher’s edge, and it vanished along with the drone. Gasses spewed into space, with specks embedded that had to be objects from the breached compartments. Even at the Sneaky Bastards distance, some of the magnified small tumbling specks resembled elephant-like silhouettes.

Maggi said, “I have it.”

Thad replied softly, “Say goodbye to the rest of it.” Instantly, a half-ton prototype Nova II vanished from Thad’s drone, and reappeared within the thick solid carbon steel shell surrounding the Alternate Combat Center, of the soon to be fragmented Crusher. The much larger mass of the drone clanship then Jumped into the other side of the Crusher. In the vacuum of space, the Empire’s Trumpet disintegrated silently in a brilliant flare of light, which illuminated the night side of Meglor in its harsh glow.

It was spectacular, and as history would later record, it was the last time one of these enormous Crushers, a symbol of the projected power of the Empire and the Emperor, was ever deliberately sent into combat with smaller, more nimble spacecraft. A determined enemy could exploit the same principle that empire technology believed had no defense. After all, their Decoherence launchers used that principle for warhead delivery. An object could reenter Normal Space from Tachyon Space, even if inside another object.

The military minds of the Empire, Thandol as well as their three security species, would long believe there were humans aboard all of the ships that attacked at Meglor. That was because the Kobani ability to use undetectable Comtap communications between an operator in Normal Space, and an AI operating a drone in Tachyon Space, was not a technology the Empire possessed, or suspected was possible. It was simpler to think that suicidal humans, who had defeated the suicidal Krall, had expended their lives this way. Certainly none of the security forces would do this for the Empire, which had previously defeated their species. The Thandol placed considerable value on their lives, so this was a combat technique they refused to consider.

“Maggi, it will take too long to haul that entire piece home with us, so Jump it ten light years back along our arrival trail, and we’ll rendezvous there. I want to sort out how many prisoners might have survived, and select some we’ll take back with us. There’s no doubt that the Empire will be able to follow our trail to where we stop, and find that section of the Crusher. We can leave anyone we don’t want to take with us behind, to be rescued.”

“There could be a lot of them, Thad. When we captured two prisoners from a much smaller piece of a Smasher at Zanzibar, it had automatic sealing of compartments and corridors. That Crusher probably did too, and I caught a big piece. They might act hostile, and there are only ten of us to oppose them.”

Sarge discounted that worry. “They’re trapped in isolated compartments, and many are probably unarmed. Besides, we sure as hell wouldn’t hesitate to take on the Krall this way, and these people were afraid of the Krall.”

“Good point. I hate to keep agreeing with you. Makes the Universe seem out of kilter, somehow. The drone is on its way. Even hauling a mass ten times its own weight it will be there in about five minutes in T-cubed travel. Are we going after it now, Thad?”

“Yes, in a second.” He spoke to the entire complement next. “Attention, anyone with an operational drone. Identify something big to intersect with, and Jump. We don’t want to leave any drone behind that’s intact. We’re about to follow Maggi’s drone, to conduct a search for prisoners.”

Five brilliant flashes appeared rapidly, one of them in an intact dock segment, and four others were Ragnar ships that were uncontrolled and easy to hit. When the Sneaky Bastard Jumped away from Meglor, the repair docks were in great need of repair themselves. Replacement was probably the more apropos term.

****

“Why aren’t we dead?”

Captain Halder’s adjutant twisted his tentacles in confusion. “Sire? I don’t understand. We only have weak glow panels for a day or two of light, there is no atmosphere outside this transport car, we have only the inflatable environment bubbles with two days of air, and our ship appears to have suffered a catastrophe from a second Federation attack. With all the destruction in this system, we are likely to die before we are rescued. Probably not by the Ragnar, to whom we were closest when evidently we were hit that second time. They wouldn’t make us a high priority to save unless a Thandol were supervising them. Do you wish death had come instantly?”

“No. But the only weapon humans would have used against the Emperor’s Trumpet is one of their horrible, wasteful bombs, which appear inside matter. I would have expected us to die instantly if they had used another one. Nevertheless, we must somehow be trapped in a large detached fragment of the ship, but it isn’t tumbling, as I’d expect it to be from a blast.

“We were over halfway to our destination when the lights went out and the car stopped. I think the enemy must have hit the ACC for us lose all power, but an explosive wave-front so close to us should have sped debris along the vacuum tunnel, and we would have been destroyed.” He did a Thandol shrug, using just his left trunk, the other trunk holding him steady in free fall. The implication was that they had not experienced an explosion.

He made a disdainful tentacle flip in the dim pale red light. “No matter what happened, these humans are wasteful, destructive, and reckless in combat. They apparently emulate the barbaric Krall technique of suicidal use of their own ships, to rotate from Tachyon Space within their opponent’s ship. How else could this species have won against those self-destructive monsters, unless they emulated them?”

There suddenly was a feel of vibrations through the sides of the car, and their state of freefall was challenged by a sudden lateral force, which required their trunks to tighten their grips, securing them from drifting around. The Thandol, despite being a long time space going species, had never been comfortable without gravity. Their large first stomach mainly stored masticated vegetation before it was moved through a lengthy intestinal system, where fermentative processes broke down the cellulose via the activity of prodigious quantities of bacteria. The volumes of their innards made the absence of gravity a problem for retaining their most recent meals, and Halder and his adjutant had been at a breakfast browse when the attack began. The unexpected movement disrupted their precarious intestinal stability, but the movement itself stirred hopes that rescue was at hand.

“Lieutenant Temthra, you are closer to the tool chest. Find something hard to use to clang on the sides of the car to attract attention. You may be wrong. There might be rescuers coming after all.”

“Yes, Sire. However, there is a vacuum outside in the tube line, so they probably won’t hear that.”

“We felt their vibrations, perhaps they will feel ours. They certainly will not if we don’t make any, will they?”

The clanging started, and the response was more rapid than expected, as external vibrations drew closer and stronger. There soon were reflected lights in the transport line’s tunnel, seen through the single external viewport provided at the front of the car. Travel in the closed tubes was boring, so there was just the one small forward port, and it revealed narrow beams of lights that obviously were aimed around the sides of the car from its rear.

“Sire, it must be Ragnar searchers, because the lights are less red tinted than ours.”

Halder’s uncertain soft bugling note from his free trunk hinted at his doubt. “Perhaps it’s another species. The Ragnar home star is more orange than the slight bluish tint of these lights.” He experienced a trace of disquiet.

There were a sharp three taps followed by two taps on the side of the car that startled them both. Lieutenant Temthra immediately repeated the pattern back. They could feel the car shake slightly and heard a scraping sound as their rescuers worked their way around the sides of the car, which largely filled the transportation tube.

“We’re apparently about to be rescued.” Halder acknowledged to his adjutant. He was looking beyond his Lieutenant, out the port at the spots of light moving across the curved walls.

An alien creature, with multiple bright blue eyes suddenly looked inside, causing Halder to push away in shock, losing the grip that his right trunk had tenuously maintained without gravity, his large body rotating. He simultaneously lost his breakfast, in a violent spasm that coated his companion and one side of the car.

Temthra, in an uncontrolled spontaneous reaction was unable to contain his revulsion, and he abruptly lost his own breakfast, striving to avoid coating his superior.

Maggi, looking through the viewport, her blue-white helmet lights and blue weapons modules illuminating the interior, nudged Reynolds, who was still off to the side and couldn’t see into the car. “Sarge, there are two naval officers inside, and one is very high ranking, based on his insignia. These are definitely keepers, and you can take both as your prisoners. I’ll bag the next ones we find.” She pushed off hard in free fall, moving rapidly down the airless transport tube.

“Thanks Maggi. Glad you ain’t hogging all the glory.”

“Happy to share. After all, I snagged this whole ship section.”

Reynolds looked inside to see what his prized captives looked like.

“Wait! Come back here, you petty little jackass. I ain’t cleaning them up!”

Chapter 3: New Technology

Mirikami had just heard the early results of the Meglor raid. He promptly called for a consultation with the scientists and engineers that were working on the next generation of Federation warships, and he told them there were empirical observations of enemy capabilities for them to consider. He faced the room full of the best minds in the Federation, humans, Torki, Raspani, and Prada, all gathered to hear what he’d learned.

“Friends, we not only tied Thandol trunks in knots at Meglor, literally, if Maggi’s brief report is accepted at face value, but we also hit the Ragnar pretty hard. The summary report from Thad says the Empire was completely unprepared for a surprise attack that deep in their territory, by so small a force.

“Not that the force was as small as I thought I was sending.” He made a wry face, accompanied by a shrug. “Even so, the damage they delivered was far greater than I would have predicted, and I believe that was more a product of the unorthodox tactics Thad and Sarge employed, Thandol lax security, and not anything new in the way of our technology.

“We already possessed larger shuttle sized Nova bombs, better electromagnetic stealth, and the means to remotely fly our ships under AI control, by using our instantaneous communications between Normal and Tachyon Space.” He sounded satisfied about the raid’s success, but there was a look of sadness in his expression. He didn’t keep them guessing as to why.

“Maggi has already communicated with their family, so I’m free to tell you that Bill Saber was killed, and his brother Fred will spend perhaps six months in and out of med labs, regrowing his left leg from mid-thigh down, and reattaching his left forearm and hand to the new elbow he’ll need to grow on his arm stump. A Crusher came extremely close to taking out the Sneaky Bastard with Decoherence bombs, despite our superior stealth.”

He shook his head. “Our attempt to prevent them from targeting the interior of our drone clanships proved to be a waste of time, and ultimately cost Bill Saber’s life. They simply retargeted their warheads to hit outside and next to the outer hulls of the gas filled drones, disintegrating semispherical bites. In another demonstration of a ship detection technique, which we also could have anticipated, that Crusher spotted Sarge’s supposedly invisible command ship via the Empire’s advanced mass detectors. Their gravitational mass detectors circumvented the only detection weakness we thought we had, via the long wave radio wave detections the Krall discovered, which could weakly see our ship outlines. Our people were watching for longwave radio signals, and detecting none, thought they couldn’t be seen. That will be another discussion topic for us today, but it can wait until later.

“The good news from the mission is that every one of the eight repair docks at Meglor was hit and severely damaged, and even better, we destroyed or badly damaged a couple of hundred ships, with nearly a third of those ships being Thandol built capital ships, and two of them were their super ships, the Crushers. We’ve now destroyed three of the eight Crushers they had, proving they are too vulnerable, too expensive, and too slow to mix it up with our much older designed Krall clanships.

“I think we can definitely assume they know of our vulnerability to the Debilitater ray, because they had gathered quite a few Stranglers there, probably for an upgrade to their projectors and defenses, and they were also converting a dozen or more Smashers into the Strangler class. They obviously intend to use them against us Kobani, and of course, Koban, if they find where we’re from.”

He nodded to Born, the head of the physics department. “Max, what can you tell us about progress on our new ship designs, when will production start, how will they change, and what about new functionality?”

The scientist stood. “We have the hull fabrication technique the Olt’kitapi used for the Dismantlers figured out, to embed millions of tiny tachyon trap field emitters in that flexible, self-healing flowing hull material, so we can generate contour fitting event horizons, as the Dismantlers can do, and like we found the Empire can do. Wister says the Prada factory managers here on Haven have two ship production lines, out of our four major product lines, capable of building all of the hull sections for our new warship hulls. One of the other two production lines will be dedicated to producing commercial vessels of the same shape and size, which on casual observation will look just like our warships. That will make anyone think twice about going after one of them, at least until they start loading or unloading cargo, proving they aren’t heavily armed. We’ll give them some defensive armament. All versions will land on their belly, with supports that will extend from the base for stability. Our command deck, or Bridge, is also at the center of the hulls, so front and rear is an arbitrary concept, although in space or on the ground, up and down is fixed, and internal gravity maintains the same orientation.

“The rounded end of the tube shape of the hulls makes forming smooth event horizons less complicated. The new ships can Jump directly from the surface of a planet, provided they land with a Jump energy tachyon already in one or more of their traps. By the way, we’ll employ three independent Trap fields for redundancy, since we don’t have reaction mass thrusters on these ships. We are working on a new arrival technique that even the cautious Olt’kitapi overlooked. Can’t say yet if it will work or not.

“Both our warships and commercial vessels will have the same stealth coatings, with radiation seals around airlocks and any external portals, to block potential leakage of Debilitater radiation into their interiors.”

He added a caveat, “The commercial vessel production line can be converted to warship production in under a month, since they use the same hull. What goes inside them requires a vastly different equipment configuration of course, a military grade AI system, and more weapons ports added to the hull.”

He explained what the fourth ship production line would produce. “On the final major production line, we’ll build scaled down tubular scout ships for military use, which can be used as diplomatic couriers, or for personal transport, with or without weapons. They can carry up to twenty people, luggage, and their food supplies, or fewer troops in armor with weapons and supplies. With reduced T-cubed travel times, inflight consumables and comfort isn’t a great need, for short one to three day trips in most cases.

“We didn’t see any advantage to not using the same stealth coating on all of those too, regardless of mission. The cost in materials, computer controls, and tachyon powered energy need is slight, compared to the total cost of construction. We estimate that old clanships can be phased out and salvaged over time, to defray the necessity of mining for as much metal as needed. We won’t allow Haven or Koban to be ravaged for materials, as the Krall did every world they controlled. There are asteroid mining companies in startup phase, modeled after those in Human Space, and partly automated. We have some equipment purchases lined up, via Chief Haveram, who found what we want via backroom deals, with Hub mining companies, who value profits over an arbitrary trade embargo.”

Tet had a question, “I already knew the capacity of the full sized ships matched what a clanship holds, but I haven’t been involved with these smaller craft. What else can they carry? Humans won’t be the only users.”

“As I said, one Scout class can carry up to twenty passengers if human, twenty-five if Prada, five comfortably if Torki, eight if Raspani, and about fifteen if Krall’tapi. T-cubed travel should greatly reduce the discomfort of being dry for the Torki for such short periods. There will be species specific, self-contained sanitary modules, such as a water mist and recovery system module for the Torki, and smaller versions for Scouts. The Raspani needed a larger volume in their kitchen module, for their low energy density grass based feed stocks.” With a slight look of discomfort, he added, “Plus, extra processing for all of their bulk wastes in the sanitation module.”

“We also will test the Scout class ships for the intensity of tachyon wakes they produce when at T-cubed speed. Our own tachyon wave detectors, and probably the Empire’s, sense the wakes, or the disruptions in the lowest energy bands of nearly infinite velocity tachyons, when massive objects pass through them. These low mass scout ships ought to produce less of a wake. They might not be detectable by us, or the Empire, even at higher levels of travel. At least not with the detectors that we have now. With a slight reduction in crews, there’s room for multiple one-meter radius Nova II’s inside a Scout class, provided we reserve a single safe space for the launch area, for the small Jump Hole they form. That would probably make it a ten-person combat ship, if humans were the crew. Nothing says twelve Prada, or a couple of Torki, three Raspani, or six Krall’tapi can’t fly something like that. They want to participate in the defense of the Federation, and with these craft they can learn how to fight without risking a full sized ship and a large crew.”

Mirikami agreed. “That’s something I’ll take to the full council even before production starts. I’m sure the other species will want to customize controls and specific features for their use.”

“They should be easy for any of our species to operate. There will be better AI’s in these small ships than on the standard shuttle models you bought from the PU navy for your recent drone tests. Chief Haveram has found another Hub world, Pittsburg II actually, who will build them for us. These are very good systems, like those used in our old clanships. Tet, you saving them from Dismantler destruction has made them willing to skirt the embargo that the PU’s House and Senate placed on us in trade with Hub worlds. The intent was to block our buying of technology from Hub Worlds unless we share our technology with them. Parliament was able to override President Strickland’s veto of that act, but Pittsburg II has conveniently created a loophole that allows a Hub licensed corporate entity to buy them, and then sell them to Rim worlds. Those independent governments are not bound by the PU embargo.”

“Max, will these small Scout ships be able to conduct long term missions? I’m thinking of sending them into Empire Space if they can do that without detection. Smaller crews of course, so they can carry extra provisions.”

“I suppose so. The courier versions and personal transports will have a configurable Smart Plastic interior, with seating for mixed species traveling together, and lockers containing the seat padding for each anatomy type. No pads for the Torki of course.” He smiled at hard-shelled Coldar, squatting next to him on a rigid carapace support.

“What about the military scout version? That’s the one I’m talking about.”

“The dedicated intense combat versions won’t have the same multi species configurable interior, because only a Kobani can fight with them effectively and expect to survive. If it carried fewer people, it has room for more consumables.”

“OK, such decisions will have to be made after some of the ships exist and we’ve used them, and we can probably get resupply in Empire space from species that I think are willing to secretly be our allies. But you touched on one of my questions. Will the new scouts allow Kobani to operate them closer to our physical limits? We removed the limits the Olt’kitapi installed on clanships, to prevent reckless or careless Krall from causing their own death and equipment damage, unless they did it deliberately. For example, they couldn’t Jump into a moon or a planet, or accelerate and turn as hard as we can tolerate. Even so, we found that even a clanship couldn’t produce forces, in some maneuvers, which exceeded our ability to endure the stress. In straight-line maximum acceleration yes, they could kill some of us. But maneuverability stress from rapid turns was less than what we could tolerate, and the ships physically couldn’t do what we wanted. Will the new Scout class perform better?”

“Not just the Scouts, Tet. The new full sized ships will too, with their ability to reach into third level Tachyon Space for the most energetic tachyons. They can outperform a clanship in every respect, using the superior inertial compensation available only at higher energy levels, because the clanships were not designed to use T-cubed energy tachyons. We’re only limited by what the Kobani inside the ship can physically endure, after the new inertial compensation is applied.

“Most of us can endure ten to eleven positive residual gravities applied from the back in a semi reclined position, and still remain conscious to send commands to an AI via our Comtaps. At eight or nine Gs, we can physically make limited controlled movements with flight or weapons controls. These are the internal residual G-forces of course, the uncompensated inertial effects. These are vastly lower stresses than the higher actual G-forces that are in effect outside of our spacecraft.

“Only the ship performance has increased, however, not our ability to endure greater residual forces inside. That stays the same, and we simply compensate better to retain the same physical capability we have now. Whatever accelerations you can tolerate today when in combat, it will feel the same to you inside the new ships.

“To outside onlookers, you’ll become a greater whirling dervish than before, one that can’t be matched by any other organically controlled spacecraft we expect to encounter. Don’t think for a second you will be able to outfly an AI controlled missile that doesn’t risk a blackout or brain damage. On first contact, if that AI performs calculations based on assumptions of your ship’s expected maneuver limits to keep those inside alive, you might escape a few times that way. At least until they adjust their software parameters, and blow your ass to bits.”

“Please note that I said positive Gs. It’s easier to use our armor’s pressure suit lining and our Kobani muscle contraction techniques to force blood to stay in our brains, and keep conscious longer. We can’t do as well with negative Gs, to prevent blood from pooling in our heads. We’ll blackout at four negative Gs, or perhaps the proper term is ‘redout,’ because our faces will turn red from the blood forced into our head. At six negative Gs for a minute, I suspect few of us would survive, and then we’d likely have suffered brain damage.”

“Max, you described Kobani tolerances. Other species want to get into the fight this time.”

Born smiled and nodded. “The AIs are smart enough to adjust for non Kobani pilots or passengers, but for Kobani combat operations, they shouldn’t even be aboard.”

“Is this new G-force protection equal to what the Dismantlers can do with people inside them? I ask, because Huwayla once completely protected a Krall’tapi pilot from a near collision with my ship, which left those of us on the Mark briefly unconscious. We had the normal clanship inertial compensation for ourselves, so clearly a Krall’tapi, who is less sturdy than a Krall, was better protected than we were because he wasn’t even stunned.” He paused and touched his lip in thought, as he dredged old memories from his wolfbat memory matrix.

“I hadn’t considered it before, but the Krall that were holding him prisoner were badly battered from that same near collision, and rendered unconscious. We encountered a number of Guardians with broken limbs and one of them, inside the control room with Pilton, had lost an arm. Yet Pilton himself, the weakest and most fragile of anyone aboard Huwayla was completely unharmed. At least until a Krall bored a three-inch Q-rupter hole through his guts.”

Max looked puzzled. “Tet, the level of inertial compensation on our new ships isn’t vastly more effective than that of a clanship. It’s surely better than what the Empire ships can do for their crews, but not by an order of magnitude for us.” Mirikami’s raised eyebrow looked as if he was about to ask a question.

Born explained. “Our inertial compensation improvement isn’t ten times better than what we have now, which is what I mean by an order of magnitude. Any Krall would be killed by the maximum forces allowed inside our new ships, which should only stun a typical Kobani. Therefore, a Krall’tapi certainly couldn’t survive either. From your recollection, you say the Krall’tapi apparently wasn’t even hurt, yet the Krall were extremely banged up. We must be missing something the Dismantler did to protect that Krall’tapi, which we can’t do for ourselves.”

Mirikami nodded, tapping his lower lip. “At least we know who to ask, don't we? I can probably reach one of the Dismantlers right now.”

He called on a general circuit, to reach whichever ship was free to talk to him. The Dismantlers had been deeply involved with speaking to the surviving Olt’kitapi on Canji Dol, instructing them on their lost history, bringing them up to date on events in the galaxy outside of the Empire, describing the millennia since the Olt’kitapi civilization had fallen. The ships preferred not to be interrupted while speaking with their creators, so the decision was made that they would take turns, with one of them always remaining disengaged, available for communication with their friends in the Federation. Remela responded this time.

“Hello, friend Tet. How are you today?”

“Hello Remela, I’m fine.” Out of courtesy, he added, “There are others included in this link with me, interested in your response to what I wish to ask you. I have questions that just one of you, based on her direct involvement could answer from experience, but Huwayla is now gone. Let me explain the background story first. The Federation is building a new class of Jump ships, and we intend to incorporate some of the technology your creators built into you. We’re using similar rounded ends for our hull design, with many Trap field emitters installed in the skin.

“My first question will require me to explain how my first actual contact with your sister ship, Huwayla, occurred. It was nearly a disaster, and I want to talk about what happened when we collided.”

“Friend Tet, my sisters and I know the details of that initial meeting. Huwayla shared all of her memories with us, as we all share our experiences periodically, at least when our minds are as healthy as they are now. Is it an aspect of that near mutual destruction, which she prevented, that you wish to discuss with me today?”

Mirikami looked around the room, wearing a perplexed expression. “Huwayla prevented our collision? But we apparently did strike her, at least hard enough that it rendered those of us in the Mark unconscious, and from later evidence, we know it badly injured some of the Krall inside her. What did she do to mitigate what happened inside her? We obviously suffered some sort of severe impact.”

“You, and the guests within Huwayla, except the pilot, suffered unavoidable trauma, which she regretted, but she took steps to reduce it from the catastrophe that was about to occur. The pilot was protected by a field cone of local inertial cancelation, similar to what you humans use for certain extreme recoil projectile weapons, which otherwise produces a severe backwards kick. She used something different for you and your ship.

“Huwayla detected that your ship was going to do what humans call intersect with her, where your ship’s mass would emerge into Normal Space, partly within the coordinates where her mass existed. She had to take action to preserve your lives, and the lives within her.”

Mirikami blinked, in confusion. “Wait. You mean she sensed we were coming, and took action to prevent a fatal intersect?”

“Yes. She later believed your inaccurate Jump was a result of incomplete and hurried measurements of the destination coordinates. Although your ship, the Mark of Koban, also possessed a significant closing velocity within Normal Space, so even if you had emerged from Tachyon Space clear of her hull, you would still have suffered a very destructive impact with Huwayla in Normal Space. She was required to execute two different and independent emergency procedures, without time to warn anyone of what was about to occur. In subsequent communications between you and her, she learned why you took such a great risk, and she was extremely thankful that you disrupted the deceptive and harmful mission that the untrustworthy Pildon had instructed her to perform.”

Mirikami and the others in the room with him, who were sharing this discussion in receive mode, seemed equally bewildered by this incomprehensible revelation.

“Remela I don't know how she could know the Mark was coming, we were on the far side of the Pittsburg II solar system, over a light hour away. She couldn’t know what our destination coordinates were, which we selected in a rush, or that they would fatally intersect with her. She shouldn’t have had time to do anything about the situation, considering our in-system Jump covered that distance in vastly less time than light could travel.

“Yet you’re saying she made us miss her in some fashion? Did she also do something to counter our Normal Space closing velocity after we emerged? We suffered a kind of impact shock instantly on White Out, which rendered all aboard unconscious. I know that when I regained my senses, that my ship was being held in direct and tight contact with her hull, motionless and without any drift. Yet neither of us had suffered visible collision damage.”

“Yes, to both questions, friend Tet. She avoided the intersect, and halted your forward motion. Any of us would have taken the same actions she did under those circumstances, because of the extremely short advanced warning received. She had to act quickly, and it was fortunate that none of you were killed. What would you have done differently?”

Mirikami smiled and shrugged, purely for the benefit of those in the room with him. “Well, for my part I’d have killed us all in a flash of intense light, since I don't see any way a collision that I didn’t know would happen could have been avoided. How did she manage to do that? How did she get an advanced warning that I was about to exit where she was? That transition happens nearly instantaneously for such a short Jump.”

“She knew because of the reflected time reversal wave, sensed through tachyons linked to another alternate Universe, where time flows in the reverse direction from that of this Universe. The brief but intense low energy tachyon wave passed mere seconds before the destructive event, leaving only those seconds to alter the causation event.”

Mirikami, his mouth partly open at this presumably erudite explanation, looked to his advisers for a technical translation, seeking terms a Spacer like himself might comprehend. What he saw, were the equivalent expressions from the human and alien scientists he had expected to simplify her explanation.

Absent anyone leaping forward to explain this to him, Mirikami went back to the source. “Remela, I wasn’t aware there is such a thing as a time reversal wave involving tachyons, or that there was another Universe where time flows backwards from the arrow of time we sense in our Universe.”

“Oh, yes,” she assured him. “Such alternate Universes were one of the many mathematical discoveries of the Olt’kitapi, but having only minor physical applications to our space. It is how we Dismantlers, and the Olt’kitapi via their mind enhancers, can sense the effects of the deaths of large numbers of intelligent living creatures in our Universe. Within our Universe a large-scale event, which causes the deaths of millions of minds, has an effect on certain low energy tachyons that are quantum entangled with aspects of the minds of living intelligent creatures. Many of these deaths, happening close together in spacetime, triggers a wave, or a pulse, of altered low energy tachyons. That pulse is reflected by an interaction with the boundary of the time reversed alternate Universe. We can sense that time reversed reflected wave shortly before the cause that creates it occurs in our Universe. In short, we know it is coming, in what you term a premonition.

“In the case of an event in our Universe, which is about to effect only ourselves, and is imminent, the effect is strongly focused on us, and we can detect the time reversed reflected wave that arrives a short time before the event that causes the original wave. The event will be small scale and limited in scope, and if we act fast, it is sometimes possible to alter the impending casual event before it happens to us. If we are able to do that, then a counter wave from our Universe is propagated to the time reversed Universe, canceling the reflection, because the disruptive event here never occurred. We probably could not escape a massive large-scale event, such as a nearby supernova, for example, because we would not be the focal point of the widespread event.

“Fortunately, for you and Huwayla, the size scale of the impending collision was no larger than her size, and the size of your ship, with a small focus compared to the scale of that solar system. She was able to sense the event, deduce the logical cause, and move herself out of your emergent path with a micro Jump of slightly more than her own length. She simultaneously prepared to use a projected stasis field where you would emerge, to contain your ship. This allowed her to dissipate the relative momentum between her and your ship, over an extended enough time, so the accelerations involved were survivable for you on the Mark and for her internal guests, without damaging your ship or herself. Her mass was greater than yours, so you suffered the greater inertial forces.”

Mirikami pulled at his lip, thinking, but didn’t turn to his advisers this time. “I’ll bet you believe you’ve adequately explained that to me. To be fair, even if I don't have a clue how a time reversed reflected wave of tachyons might be created, detected, or canceled, I can accept that a micro Jump, with seconds of forewarning, could permit a fast thinking AI like Huwayla to move out of the way of the impending intersect. Except, she then prevented my ship from smashing into her, because of the residual Normal Space velocity we possessed upon entering the Jump Hole. What is a stasis field?”

In another seemingly dismissive explanation of something Remela considered self-evident, she said, “It is how we catch and preserve the molten blobs of the pieces of the cores of planets we’ve dismantled for habitat construction. We need to move the hot metallic core fragment into storage orbits, where they will be kept and mined for needed material.

“That is where other tool-ships, related to Dismantlers, would promote the process of separating constituents of the planetary body, encouraging the differentiation of the various metals, stony materials, and gasses, for example. This is most effectively done while the blobs are still molten, so we prevent them from cooling during movement to the holding orbits, and the other tool-ships would maintain them in partial stasis, still molten, as they extract the various separated materials.

“A stasis field preserves the material in its current state, either molten for the core fragments, or held at the temperatures such as you and I presently have. For the core fragments, this is until they are gravitationally pulled to new orbits, and the stasis field retards changes, such as cooling in the material until they can be processed. I suppose, in Standard, you might call the ships that do this task something similar to a Differentiator, since I am a Dismantler. We don't believe any of those ships survived the revolt, because the Krall found no military value to them, and did not wish to preserve intelligent ships that they considered alive. Destruction was of interest to them, not preservation, organization, and construction.”

Mirikami offered a comment with a wry smile. “Happily, my ship and crew wasn’t a molten blob and thus differentiated. What did the stasis field do to us?”

“Friend Tet, it prevented any severe deformation or mechanical changes in your ship or of its contents, as you were rapidly decelerated via projected gravitational forces, and brought to a halt in Normal Space, relative to Huwayla. Using a word in your language that seems to apply, you were held static and rendered nearly indestructible, for the brief time required to cancel your momentum. After that, the stasis field was terminated, and you were held gravitationally against Huwayla’s hull.”

Mirikami nodded. “That saved our lives, but there were some unpleasant side effects. Namely, it rendered us unconscious and was very painful, but that was clearly preferable to death. Based on these unexpected explanations, I know exactly what I have to ask you now. Do you know if we can incorporate your advance warning technique in our new ships, to avoid the much smaller Decoherence bombs from emerging inside of them from Tachyon Space, or even from appearing close to their hulls?”

“My friend, the detection of a reflected tachyon wave and identification of one of them as having been time reversed is required, and is a sensory capability that you can develop with our example as your guide. The ability to deduce what is about to happen, and then act quickly on that warning, requires greater speed and computation than any biological response times can provide, even those that you Kobani exhibit. My experience with your most advanced ship AIs convinces me they have the speed and computational ability to act quickly enough, if you permit them to do so autonomously, without requiring your advanced approval to act, which would come too late.”

Mirikami was more than pleased with the direction this consultation had taken. “That’s very gratifying Remela. I’ll ask that you, or one of your sisters, consult with our scientists and technical people on this aspect, but not right now. That has been one of our great worries, that in combat we were unable to prevent Decoherence warheads from entering our ships from Tachyon Space.”

He paused a moment, to note that his cadre of scientists and engineers looked just as happy and optimistic as he felt, learning they were about explore a new realm of physics. Now, for what he expected would be the easiest question for Remela to answer for them. It didn’t appear to involve new physics.

“That time reversed tachyon wave explanation was the toughest part, for me anyway. All that’s left today is for you to tell us how to create the stasis fields, and build gravitational projectors to move objects within the stasis fields. After we avoid the Decoherence bombs, we might want to catch them in a stasis field before they can activate, and get rid of them. Perhaps we could return them to the senders.” He grinned.

The grin proved to be premature.

“We will not do that, friend Tet.” Her answer was a disappointing rejection.

Remela explained that stasis was a time dilation effect of projected dual gravitational fields, one of which formed an internal bubble of extreme time dilation. An outer field surrounded the first bubble, to shield the surrounding space from the intense gravitational spacetime warping generated within the internal bubble, by countering them on the outside. Objects inside the inner bubble experienced a highly reduced flow of time, while outside the second bubble, the flow of time was unaffected.

The odd thing was that Remela was perfectly willing to discuss the theory, and to describe the principle of how the two bubbles worked together. She discussed their projection and the order in which they had to be generated. And then she told them that neither she, nor her sister ships, would ever assist anyone in designing or building the powerful gravitational projectors required. The projector technology was, essentially, the same as what the Dismantlers used to detonate giant planets, requiring only a different combination and application of the two fields they used. It was that technology, which the Krall had subverted and used as a weapon of mass destruction. The Dismantlers refused to help any species recreate that technology, no matter how well intentioned the Federation was.

Mirikami, in his third attempt to explain the limited use intended for the capability, provoked the harshest words he’d ever heard from one of these normally polite, and always gentle speaking, artificial minds.

“We will never help you, or anyone, to develop this technology. We will withdraw from all contact with you if you continue to press us on this subject. You can develop any technology your science is able to devise from your own discoveries, but we will not assist you in this effort. We wish to remain friends, but what you are asking of us is not what we expect from a friend. This matter is of extreme sensitivity to us, because my sisters and I were deceived into destroying worlds that contained billions of intelligent creatures. We suffered greatly from those deaths.”

Mirikami was instantly and genuinely contrite. “I sincerely apologize, Remela. We humans and our other Federation species have never had the capacity to sense the tragic events you and the Olt’kitapi suffered. It was an inexcusable lack of empathy on my part. I overlooked an experience you and your sisters suffered through, and which I’m incapable of sharing directly. Yet, intellectually I knew how you were affected. We will not broach this subject with you again. I apologize on behalf of all of us here, although I bear the responsibility.”

“Friend Tet, I have interrupted my sisters to consult with them on this matter, and we unanimously accept your apology. We wish to remain as advisors to you and the Federation, on matters where we feel competent to do that, although there may be future areas, probably involving technology with military applications, where we may be reluctant or unable to guide you. We will inform you when or if any of those other subjects arise.”

Mirikami was relieved. “I’m grateful you have excused my thoughtless pressure, and I’m delighted that we can continue our mutually beneficial and cooperative discussions. I’ll say goodbye for today, Remela, and I thank you for the tremendously useful information you have provided.”

“Goodbye for now, friend Tet.”

As soon as the link was broken, Mirikami looked directly at Max. “She apparently has no problem with what we might develop concerning gravitational projectors, so long as we don’t ask them for any help. Do you need outside help understanding the projector I severed from Huwayla at Pittsburg II?”

Max winked. “We’ve had it operational on multiple occasions, and have now designed smaller versions that we’ll test soon. I clearly foresee some design changes, based on how she said stasis fields are generated. We had already anticipated the need for two projectors in each of our new ships, one at each rounded end, just as the Dismantlers do, so we could haul or move cargo in space without the need for tugs. That’s why we placed the Bridge at the center of our new ships.”

Mirikami shook his head, displaying a mildly rueful expression. “I wish we could get our young people to quit calling the new ship designs the big Jelly Beans. They want us to use the stealth coatings to make them reflect bright colors when we visit other worlds. They want to draw attention to our ships in Human Space, claiming it’s a form of commercial advertising. I think it’s just a desire to show off.”

****

Maggi wanted only a bit of peace and quiet for an hour. “I don’t know which reverberates more, my ears or my mind.”

Unfortunately, she had to share her Mind Tap results with Sarge and his AI, Grumpy, to give them the latest navigation changes. The rest of the crew of the Sneaky Bastard could also benefit from her latest Thandol language lesson, and learn of her insights into their psychology.

They were taking a shorter but frequently changing route home through the center of the Empire, and she had fresh data that she’d pulled from Captain Halder’s mind. It would help refine their course through the remaining, and predictably altering gaps in the Empire’s monitoring system, which detected movements of ships in the upper dimensions of Tachyon Space.

She had just conducted a fourth Mind Tap session in two days, two each with the Thandol prisoners. There had been dozens of surviving Thandol discovered within the Crusher segment her drone had sheared away, but those two from the transport car were beyond fortunate finds.

The Thandol language, loud and shrill when coming from that arrogant and angry pair, would have proven uncomfortable on merely normal human ears, but some of the most forceful notes extended into the ultrasonic range, to which her wolfbat hearing was overly sensitive.

Their incredibly nuanced speech, with its innumerable inflections, supplemented by trunk and tentacle motions, and having several formal modes of grammar, was a challenge to learn, and she knew impossible for her to fully master. Her mind was numb from trying to grasp the intricacies of that language. A sympathetic word for the personal sacrifice, her ears and mind in this case, was all she wanted to help ease the mental and physical burden of the two arduous days of work.

Therefore, Sarge said as kindly as he could. “Damn well serves you right! If you’d helped me clean the puke off those two at the start, I’d have offered to share some of the negotiating work with you, Madam Ambassador.” Sarcasm all but dripped from the title he reminder her she carried.

She was too beat to offer much of a fight after two long days. “What negotiations, you insensitive buffoon? I’m interrogating them, not establishing diplomatic relations. You’ve had more interrogation training than I have, but you’ve sat you ass on the Bridge for two days. And please keep your frigging voice down. My ears hurt, and my head feels like a ringing bell.”

He laughed, and elevated his voice slightly. “Had you been a bit nicer to me, I might’ve let you use these earplugs, with adjustable sound filters.” He showed her two earbuds, often used in noisy industrial manufacturing plants for ear protection, but which granted the user programmable audio filtering for protection from noise frequencies they wished to reduce. She’d had no idea anyone on the ship would have brought anything like those earplugs along.

With a vengeful grin, and now in a loud voice that made her wince, he explained why he had them. “In combat, I don't particularly enjoy loud sounds of explosions and weapons fire, so I carry several sets with me. They help a lot.”

Then softer, he added, “With Mind Tap, I don't understand why you need to hear them speak that godawful noise they call a language anyway. It’s not as if you can pick up a bugle or bagpipes and try to speak it back to them. Why not just let the translator program and voice synthesizers do that for you?”

“Because I don't intend to speak it numbskull. But the software can’t tell me the emotional context imparted with certain statements, or reveal how powerfully they feel about certain words they might mask behind a formal mode of grammar. For example, as I listened to the hundreds of statements made to me in their imperative mode, which they use with subservient species. Via Mind Tap, I could sense how uncertain and nervous they were when I heard them, beneath the arrogance and veneer of the certainty conveyed by their words.

“Now, even without Mind Tap, I know better how uncertainty sounds, and is reflected in tentative tendril motions. We might not be able to Tap one of them as they speak in a video, but if we can see and hear them, we might gain some insight as to how truthful or uncertain they are.

“I’m using that knowledge to help refine our translator software, by learning what physical moderators apply to the harsh loud notes of the words they trumpet at us.

“For example, from Mind Taps, I know they suppress these revealing modifying tentacle twitches and trunk positions when dealing with other Thandol, if they’re political opponents within their heirarchy. Yet, these two contemptuously displayed them to me, confident I was utterly ignorant of their meanings. If not for Mind Tap, they’d be correct. I’m concerned what will happen to the extensive discourse I’m having with them when they eventually discern I’m a female.” She chuckled tiredly.

Sarge looked at her appraisingly. “Not to swell that sore head you claim you have, but how can they not detect that you’re clearly a female of our species? They’ve seen most of the rest of our crew, and with three women and the rest males, I’d think they’d have noticed some of the curvaceous external differences by now.”

“If I told you the junior officer was a female Thandol, would you be surprised?”

“No kidding? Then I guess I can’t tell the difference between them either.”

“Yes, I’m kidding! They don’t let their females openly engage with males in public. My point was this. They’re alien to us, and you just acknowledged you couldn’t be certain one of them wasn’t a female. We’re equally alien to them, and they have the same uncertainty about us, but with a built-in bias. They believe I’m a male version of human because I’m the one talking to them, and you men, who haven’t talked to them yet, must be the inferior females. That follows from their cultural bias that only a male of a subservient species would presume to speak with them.”

“Well, hell. You didn’t really want my help, or Thad’s help for that matter. You couldn’t have made any headway on your own if they found out your gender. How have you convinced them you needed to touch them when you talk? Their pride in their superiority resented my touching them when I captured them. I was in armor, of course, but Thad and I could partly sense their thoughts through conduction. Both of us were hands-on with them when we sealed them inside two of those Thandol made emergency environment bubbles. We’d seen other Thandol survivors using those things. There were some stowed in the magnetic transport car, where you and I found them. We sensed how much they disliked being touched by us through our gauntlets, as we wiped off their vomit with soft pieces of insulation, then pushed and shoved their chubby asses inside the bubbles in free fall.”

Maggi agreed. “I felt that same reaction when I helped them get out of the bubbles, and then forcefully guided them in the use of our Torki water soaker cabinet, to show them how to finish cleaning themselves of dried vomit residue.”

“You have to touch them in a nerve dense area for a good Mind Tap. How’d you work that out for the extended questioning?”

“I accidentally discovered those flat foot pads of theirs are surprisingly sensitive, with enough nerve endings for decent Tap use. I know for a certainty that the tips of their trunks, and particularly their entire tentacles, are as flush with nerves as our hands and fingers are.”

“I assume you found that out by forcing them to let you touch those.”

“Nope, they actually thought they were forcing me to let them touch me.” She shed her tired expression with a brief smile.

She explained. “They assumed they were stronger than I was, from our relative sizes I suppose, and there were two of them against one. I’d previously told Grumpy to cut back the gravity on deck six, our visiting alien deck, to make it possible for them to stand and use water from the Torki soaking station to help them finish cleaning. From that they assumed that was my own preference, and didn’t realize we’re a high gravity people, let alone suspect our genetic enhancements.”

“I presume they know better now.” He winked at her. “Did you hurt them much in their lesson?”

“No, No. At first, I let the puny shits try to pull my arms and legs off, while I sensed their visual images through their trunks and tentacles. I couldn’t understand much of what they were shouting at me in their dual and angered trumpeting, even with the translator. The noisy Captain Halder had exceedingly violent images of beating me to death with one of my ripped off limbs. Gory, but actually milder than many Krall thoughts I’ve experienced, when questioning some of those captives.

“They never once considered biting me, which probably would hurt and be damaging. These herbivores are repulsed by the thought of eating meat, or even of putting my hand or foot in their mouth for a chew.”

“Anyway, they quickly realized I wasn’t coming apart for them, so I tied their trunks together so I could talk to them via the translation program Pholowela gave us. Aside from their trunk pain, and forced to mouth breathe around the constricting knots, I detected that they were hugely offended to be addressed in the Imperative mode, as if I considered them to be subservient to me. They nearly became sick with revulsion when I touched their tentacles, so I hit upon a different interrogation strategy.

“I decided I could get more cooperation by catering to their self-importance, and at the same time teach our software the grammar mode that subservient species use in their own translator software to speak to the Thandol. That’s when I discovered how sensitive their feet were, when they tried to stomp me. They didn’t object as strongly to my touching them there, when I shoved their feet away.”

“What? Now you play footsies with them while you talk like a servant?”

“Close, you sorry excuse for a detective that can’t see obvious clues. I ask questions, they answer me, and they download samples of the servant level grammar to me, which I wanted to learn. In return I wash or massage their feet, as an alien personal household servant does, allowing them to feel they’re superior to me. They don’t know I’m Mind Tapping them, of course.”

“I’m damned if I’d do that.”

“That’s exactly what I assumed, about you and the rest of the macho male crew. That would slow down our learning more about them. Which is why I decided to be the one to learn other grammars for our translator programs, and in the process I pulled some minor secrets out of them.”

“What minor secrets are worth debasing yourself for these smug bastards? Besides, they wouldn’t give you anything useful for free.”

“You’re right. I first offered them a secret in trade, something that we knew about them. I told them we knew the Empire had long-range Tachyon Space communications, as did the Olt’kitapi.”

“What the hell? Why give that knowledge away?”

He felt a sudden bolt of alarm. “Wait! They’re in Tachyon Space right now. They can phone home and tell them. Shit! We need to cut those chips out of their heads!”

“Easy there, slow thinker. I know what I’m doing. Their embedded chip circuits don’t have the same capability as our Comtaps, and I don't mean only our telepathic sharing between Kobani. They can’t directly modulate tachyons, for long distance instantaneous communications with their personal devices. Their name for them translates into something like a memory cache, but they use an abbreviation in their own language. Let’s just call it a memcache so we don’t have to use a damned bugle to say the word.”

“But we know the Empire does have long range communications capability. They may even have copied it from Olt’kitapi technology.”

“Most likely, and I’m certain they know we have that capability for the same reason. I asked them leading questions, well before we Jumped, while you others finished searching that piece of the Crusher. I assumed we needed to extract or disable those memcache gadgets in their heads first. They hated my impolite grammar, but couldn’t help thinking about what I asked them. They don’t have full-fledged mind enhancers or Olts, like we and our allies have. They never mastered the miniaturization technology for those quantum entanglement devices, and didn’t know the Olt’kitapi could do that with their personal devices. Thiers are used primarily for data storage and memory help, although they do have medium range radio communications with them.

“If not for the Olt’kitapi, I’m all but certain the Raspani or Torki would not have developed their own mind helpers, and we are the ones that taught them that long-range communications were possible with what they were given. With us, it was because of our unique nervous systems and telepathy. The Olt’kitapi did it based on theory, not accident. We certainly wouldn’t have Comtaps if the Olts and mind enhancers hadn’t existed first. We’re using variations of the original mind assisting technology given to the two species they helped evolve into higher intelligence. Although, the devices now have been improved because of our discoveries with our own nervous systems, and the Torki expanded the hardware’s sensitivity.

“Frankly, according to max Born, it was a mathematical masterstroke by the Olt’kitapi to have ever discovered the physics applications which suggested that weak tachyons, in an alien and hostile alternate Universe, could be used that way. I doubt the Empire would have the capability right now if they hadn’t learned the Olt’kitapi possessed it first, and must have obtained examples of the technology they left behind to study. Knowing something is possible is a powerful inducement to conducting the research to learn how it works.”

“Then how do the Thandol talk instantly over light years of distance, if not the way we do?”

“They built something equivalent to what our devices can do in Tachyon Space, but it’s not small enough to carry inside their heads. Their monitor ships for detecting travel in Tachyon Space, their Crushers, and probably most of their large ships, have devices installed in consoles for that type of instant communication, but it only works if they’re in a Jump Hole, and the receiver they want to address has to be in a Jump Hole at the same time. The way it was for us at first.

“The two high ranking Thandol we caught do have embedded devices, which are much more elaborate than a transducer, because they also have data storage, computational capability, and a much stronger radio transmitter and receiver. With the large size of a Thandol skull, and their thick necks, they carry a larger chip and a more powerful power supply than a transducer uses. They can communicate electromagnetically in Normal Space, out to a range of about a million miles or so, to reach a nearby Jump capable communications station on a ship, or preferably to the one on their own ship, as Captain Halder and Lieutenant Temthra did previously on their Crusher.

“However, the ship with the tachyon modulation console has to enter Tachyon Space to have long-range instant communications. These two don’t have the means to communicate beyond our ship while we’re in a Jump Hole. We’ll want to block their transmissions, or reduce the signal strength when we get back to Haven, so they’ll not be able to reach one of their ships, if one should ever come close enough to them. Perhaps we can put them inside a Faraday cage.”

“OK. Then they haven’t learned that we have embedded Comtaps. That’s a relief.”

“Uh. Not exactly. Didn’t you hear me say I downloaded the grammar I wanted? I exchanged link addresses with them, to let their memcache devices contact mine. And before you have another panic attack, they only know my personal link address, out of the nearly infinite number of them possible. I’m certainly entertained by those wild-eyed purple faces you make, but you can rest easy.”

“Rest easy? You’re giving them too damned much information about us, and all you know is they don’t mind if you wash dung off their feet.”

“How about what I managed to get from them so far? I learned the public link address to the Emperor himself, those of most of his court, his Military High Commander, many other military and political leaders, and a ton of Farlol family nobles and functionaries. There’s a lot more in their implanted gadget’s databases than the rules of grammar for their alien flunkies to use.

“Unfortunately, they both seem to have a predilection for collecting and sharing elephantine pornography, and I’ll be a long time erasing those images from my wolfbat matrix. You won’t believe what they can do with two trunks, at least one tentacle, and another unmentionable part of their anatomy.”

“You’re right. I won’t believe, and I refuse to learn. How’d you get them to send you the links? And why would they share the porno with you?”

“You surprise me, Sarge. I thought you might have named your ship after yourself. You aren’t the only sneaky bastard, my friend. All their data is passphrase protected, and in the Thandol language that’s complex as hell to replicate in their own voices. If I’m Mind Tapping them, and I tell one of them my own data is password protected, what do you think is the next thing they think about?”

He was incredulous. “You stole their passwords and have been sneaking in and grabbing files from their artificial memory?”

“It wasn’t that straightforward and easy. I used my Comtap to record what the elaborate phrase was they each thought of when I mentioned we used simple passwords. Then later, I played them back repeatedly using my Comtap translator software, fed it to Grumpy, and he passed them through his audio sensory suite. He verified when what the translator sent him finally matched the original phrase exactly. I had to adjust it repeatedly, based on Grumpy’s feedback, until the translation software had a stored copy of each audio passphrase to use that sounded identical to the one I recorded from their minds.

“I was afraid they might have an unrealistic sounding impression of their own voices, as we humans do. It turns out that their complex tonal language is possible because they do have excellent hearing, the means to detect very slight tonal differences, and to repeat their words precisely, with all of the subtle aspects intended to be heard.

“It’s no wonder they’re so fussy about their language and its grammar modes. They put the former French people to shame, with their snobbery over improper usage of their nearly dead language. That snobbery ended when the conglomeration now called Standard replaced all local languages, after the Collapse.”

“So you’re telling me you simply downloaded all of their data?”

“Again, you’re a slow learner. Not quite that easily, and certainly not everything. A secret download has to happen simultaneously when they’re feeding me grammar downloads, which I asked them to parcel out in short segments, pretending I’m too slow and dimwitted to save and assimilate it in one dump. I actually do need time to study what they want me to learn, but my real goal in getting it piecemeal is to analyze what I’m finding that they didn’t intend to share. I’m trying to steer my searches to where I can find important stuff in their memcache chips. Similar to how we store classes of data, there are organized libraries in their heads.

“From their minds, I know they at least believe they have effective security protocols that can’t be defeated, which I don't want to risk tripping. Their data transfer rate is considerably less than our superconducting nerves and Comtaps can accept, so it’s been a trickle from my viewpoint.

“I’m trying to think of an excuse to ask them about their tougher security protocols for getting into their restricted files, such as specifications on combat ship capabilities, or weapons or ship types we haven’t seen yet. Only, I’d have to explain how I knew they had restricted files in the first place. I’d also like to know what the Captain has stored about the Empire’s plans concerning us. If I trigger their security software by mistake, I imagine they’ll know it, and I could effectively be locked out by a device address change. I think the most important data is encrypted anyway, and I don't know if we could crack one of those files without their active cooperation and the quantum key. There’s a security module for that, which seems to require their direct activation to use.”

Reynolds nodded in approval. “Well, just having the link addresses could be useful, particularly if the idea proposed by Carson and Ethan, to try to duplicate the address on a second device worked, and see if it allows us to monitor what is exchanged on the original device. It works for our devices, but we can also sense when there is another device with the same address, because of an echo-like effect. Regardless, I had doubted we’d even get that much out of them.”

He tried to sound begrudging, to maintain his usual pretense when dealing with Maggi, but offered her a sincere complement. “Good work, I guess.”

****

President MacDougal offered an apology, but not for himself. “Aldry, Rafe, I know you wanted Tet at this kuttlefish briefing, but the Sneaky Bastard has just returned. Tet needed to be there with Fred Saber’s parents, for his transfer to the hospital.

“Fred was roused from his induced med lab sleep just before arrival, and he used Comtap to link to Tet. He asked if Tet could escort his parents to meet the ship, and to help reassure his anxious parents that Bill didn’t feel any pain when the bomb hit, and that Fred will recover. Tet will visit with you later.”

“We understand, Stewart. Rafe and I didn’t even know about the mission before last night, let alone that it was returning with a casualty and prisoners. However, Thad’s mission report was shared with all of the technology teams on R&D this morning. We have biological and gene results to share, but not anything that will produce as quick an application for the war effort as what the hardware people have.”

Rafe added, “When Tet’s free, if he drops by we can brief him, although he may be satisfied with the overview you can provide after you leave.”

“Good. In that case, let me hear what you’ve learned. I too heard Thad’s report, and it’s clear the Empire intends to increase its number of Stranglers, which means they learned how effective the Debilitaters were against us Kobani.

“Thad’s mission set that plan back considerably, but they have two other massive repair stations in their other security sectors, and they have shipyards for new production. We can’t possibly stop them from placing Debilitaters on as many ships as they want. We need to know if there’s a way to make us impervious to that radiation. Is there?”

“Wow. No pressure there, Mr. President.” Aldry, frowned, but took the anticipated question in stride.

They and their team had immediately grasped the implication of the clustering of Stranglers at Meglor. And what the numerous conversions of older Smashers into the Strangler class meant. The Empire intended to send fleets of Debilitater equipped ships into Federation Space, seeking worlds where the Kobani lived.

She didn’t sugar coat things. “We hope we can genetically engineer an effective resistance for ourselves to Debilitater radiation, or perhaps a functional tolerance is a better term.”

MacDougal raised his eyebrows, in an expression evoking a question and his concern. “What do you mean by functional tolerance? That doesn’t sound like a yes, we can do it sort of answer.”

“Because we don’t think we can say, yes, we can do it. We think we can produce partially what we desire, but it will not be pain free under the ray’s effects.”

“I don’t know if that will be enough.”

“We don’t either,” Rafe acknowledged, “but let me describe an analogy to you.

“Picture a group of people on a beach, in swimwear, and they suddenly experienced a sudden onset of moderate to severe sunburn. There’s shelter nearby, do you think they could run for that cover?”

“Sure. That would hurt, but it wouldn’t be completely debilitating. Is that how you envision our resistance to that ray, if you succeed? That isn’t what we hoped for.”

“No, but it isn’t death either.” Rafe rebutted. “However, could you envision exposed people fighting back, despite the discomfort? Mind you, unlike real sunburn, the pain effectively vanishes when shaded by shielding more substantial than clothing, and it doesn’t have a lasting effect, or increased damage with time of exposure. You might not want to continue your volley ball game, but you could get behind a sheltering wall and shoot at the source of radiation.”

“That’s what you meant by functional tolerance. Partial protection, but still able to function, without long lasting effects. Is that what you mean?”

Aldry held her hands up to the sides, and shrugged. “It’s what we think, based on our preliminary genetic studies. We don’t have any live animal subjects to modify yet, and no Debilitater ray to test on them.”

MacDougal mused, “I wonder if we can capture a functional Debilitater projector?”

Rafe said, “We have some Kobani analogue animals to test if you do, provided we can develop the multipart virus modifications for them, and nanites to deliver the carbon nanotubes.”

“That sounded like a lot of conditionals, Rafe. Who do you plan to test this with?”

“Not who, exactly. Our Koban pigs, from our initial gene mod experiments. They have continued to breed, and we have hundreds of the fast suckers over by Prime City, on Koban.”

“OK, but how does this partial protection work? Doesn’t the radiation go all the way through us, like radio waves?”

“Does the sun burn you on the inside, Sir? It’s a matter of frequency. Aldry will explain, since she’s had a bit more physics education than I have.”

She picked up the narrative. “High energy radiation, like x-rays and gamma rays are ionizing radiation, and can penetrate and damage DNA inside of cells. Radio and microwaves are at a lower energy of the electromagnetic spectrum, and are non-ionizing radiation. Less dangerous to our DNA. The shorter wavelengths of microwaves are less penetrating, and like visible light and infrared, heat the moisture in the skin, but don’t penetrate deep into muscles.

“The Debilitater radiation is a combination of millimeter range frequencies, in what we term a microwave spectrum, with pulse, frequency, and amplitude modulations that manage to stimulate the top layers of tissue, skin if you will, and engender strong electrical impulses into small nerve endings. The size of the ends of our Meissner and Merkel disks, which are receptor nerve organs for the sense of touch, have receptive field areas of about five-millimeter square, which are highly sensitive to the Debilitater rays.”

She piled more onto the heap. “Then we also have nociceptors that respond to heat and noxious chemicals, and that pain is more difficult to localize and is difficult to tolerate. It has a slightly different sized receptive field, but also is within the wavelength of radiation the Debilitater can use to painfully stimulate those receptors.”

MacDougal looked at Rafe helplessly. “Shit. I liked your sunburn analogy better. At least I could understand what in hell you were talking about. How does a damned kuttlefish figure into all of this?”

Aldry shook her head, relenting. “Back to you Rafe.”

“OK, Mr. President. I hope you gathered that there are two sizes of nerve ending receptor fields, and both are messed with by the Debilitater ray frequency mix. Here’s where the kuttlefish genes come into play.

“The kuttlefish have two different sized small gaps in the dual nanotube layers of film we found they have, which are used for exposing the animal’s nerve endings so they can sense and touch the outer world. The gaps form around the end of the nerves, and for their predators, those two gap settings happen to have very specific spacing. One small gap is ideal for hiding their electrical nerve activity from being detected by a predator’s sensory system, and the other spacing is perfect for protection from the electrical shock frequencies generated by their predators if they’re found anyway.

“Here’s how this works for the kuttlefish. The predator’s detection signals have a certain frequency range, and the shock pulses have another frequency range. One gap is scaled less than a half wavelength of one frequency, the other gap is less than a half wavelength of the other frequency. What this means is that neither frequency passes through the combined gaps to reach the kuttlefish’s nerves below. The predators cannot sense kuttlefish electrical nerve activity, and if they happen to bump into them by accident, their disabling shocks are delivered at a frequency that is not passed through the other gap in the other nanotube field. They are shielded.”

“So we’ll be hidden from detection by the enemy, and protected if found by accident?”

Suppressing his sigh, Rafe said, “No, Sir, we won’t be hidden from detection. The Debilitater rays will always encounter us, because they don’t see us in the sense of a detection system. In our case, we want to be able to block, or perhaps the better word is shield specific frequencies from reaching our nerves. The precise frequencies that would painfully stimulate our superconducting nerve endings. The blockage can’t be perfect, because the frequencies can vary, so that the ray can work on different species. That’s why we’ll probably still feel some effects, but much less than without the nanotube films.”

“Mostly protected then, and you think that will be sufficient?”

“In theory yes. That’s what we’ll need to test. We also anticipate that the enemy will try to vary the frequency of the radiation mix, as they surely must do for various different species. For them it might be as simple as turning a knob by an operator, or letting a computer do it for them. We don’t want to be locked into genetically shielding ourselves from two precise frequencies, which the enemy can change slightly.”

“How do you plan to guard against that?”

Aldry grinned. “Goose bumps, Sir.” She was happy to have an analogy handy that MacDougal could easily understand. “We’ll stretch or relax the carbon nanotube films, adjusting their nerve opening gaps, using the arrector pili muscles around our body hairs, which make your hairs to stand up or lie down. It’s an autonomic reflex in Normals, controlled by the sympathetic nervous system. We Kobani already have the ability to control this reaction manually, as one of our very first clone mods, for helping control our response to heat or cold. We can stretch or relax our skin at will, and that will alter the nanotube films embedded in our skin tissue, altering the gaps and adjusting for the frequencies we need to block. We would naturally seek the least level of pain when exposed to a Debilitater ray.”

“Isn’t there a limit to how much adjustment we could make that way?”

“Of course, Sir. But the technicians we consulted also say that the effective frequencies for the Debilitater rays are limited to which specific frequencies can directly stimulate our nerves. If they go much higher, or lower, the pain generation effect will be lost.”

“Oh my word.”

“What, Sir?”

“I just realized I need to try to explain this to Tet. I have to tell him a genetic modification will give us protection, although the rays might feel like sunburns, provided we form goose pimples. Then I’ll tell him not to worry about it; we’ll test it on pigs, so run right out and provoke the Thandol.”

Chapter 4: Target, Tanner’s World

Force Commander Thond was astounded at how incompetent the Thandol had been in defending the docks at Meglor. His own ships had managed to perform better, despite the Thandol requirements to leave only a token set of technical staff aboard each ship. The Ragnar had always circumvented this autocratic nonsense by seeing to it that the technical staff they left aboard had been cross-trained from experienced combat personnel. But there weren’t enough of them to fight their ships effectively.

Not that the Ragnar had ever anticipated an attack like this from an outside force. Instead, their policy was based on a quiet opposition to the Thandol rule over them, a step that made them feel less vulnerable if they ever found themselves caught between the current Emperor’s family, and a coup by a usurping noble family. Those were rare, but had happened numerous times over a long history, and until the Thandol sorted out who was giving the orders, the Ragnar would pull back all their ships to defend their three core star systems, and stay carefully neutral.

Despite his anger at the fiasco at Meglor, he commended Lieutenant Commander Grudfad. “Even with so few crew members per ship, you preserved dozens of our ships that might have fallen prey to the enemy if they had stayed attached to the docks. Sadly, the Smashers we were assigned held only Thandol station staff, thus nearly all of them were lost or damaged badly. At least some of them can still be made into Stranglers.” He pant-hooted, and shivered his graying fur in irritation.

“By ignoring the Thandol dock regulations and taking command of our ships, you saved many of them, and permitted our small crews to fight back. That may be why the humans elected to engage in suicide missions at the end, although with fanatics like that, it’s hard to be certain what they might do.

“After we replace the Stranglers lost at the major docks, and we find the Federation’s more populated worlds, I’ll teach humans what pain really is, and they’ll gladly accept death as a release.”

“Sire, I have news on that front. It was something overheard by one of our people, a technician down on the surface of Meglor, of a loud chastisement of a monitor station Thandol agent, who explained to a superior how the human ships arrived without a warning.”

Grudfad shivered in anger. “The monitor station agents on duty when the attack began were aboard the Empire’s Trumpet, so they are not available for well-deserved executions for dereliction of duty.”

Then he described what the low ranking Ragnar had overheard. “Based on duplicate records from other monitors, the agent described what the trails looked like as the humans arrived, apparently coming from deep within the Empire, the opposite direction from the Federation. It’s apparent they used a variation of the previous warning attack at Wendal, but mimicked three Smashers in formation, rather than a Crusher. Smasher arrivals are a common occurrence here.” He paused for effect.

“That is when our technician overheard information of real value. After a discussion of how this would not be allowed to happen again, the lowly agent attempted to put his superior in a better mood. He described a secret Thandol communication he’d heard, through their monitor ship network when he was last on duty, two cycles earlier. It was a report of a tachyon wake trace of a Federation ship’s level three track. This incoming trace ended at the same Federation colony world that our fleet attacked. However, it came from a completely different direction than their reinforcement ships had arrived, which we believed indicated they came from the heart of Federation Space, in the center of the former Krall territory. It seems that was a wrong assumption.”

Thond suddenly lost his bristly appearance, his fur no longer standing out in an instinctive display, designed to make a Ragnar appear larger when angry. Grudfad now had his rapt attention, suspecting his subordinate was onto something important.

“The monitor ship had remained on the outskirts of that colony system, where it had approached slowly so as not to be detected by them, since they presumably have their own monitors. They waited, and two cycles after that arrival, the same ship, based on its matching mass, departed. It promptly Jumped in the direction from which it had arrived. What was remarkable is that it both arrived and departed in level three, and did not stay in level one for several days coming and going, where it couldn’t be traced. We know the humans do this, as do our own merchant ships and smugglers, to avoid being tracked. Federation ships have done this even at the few worlds where we already know they have colonies. They obviously don't want to provide pointers to their main worlds for us to follow.

“This monitor commander, showing more initiative that is customary for a low level Thandol officer, left his assigned station and navigated in the same direction in level three, and followed that ship for more than a full cycle. They were rewarded when there were multiple detections of many other second level ship traces, and a few third level traces, most of which occurred at a single nexus in Tachyon Space, with fainter traces suggesting other worlds nearby. That only can mean a more heavily populated Federation world, where they enter and leave Tachyon Space without regard to the possibility of being monitored.

“The Normal Space coordinates of this nexus was instantly broadcast on the monitor network throughout the Empire several cycles ago. That ship, to maintain its anonymity, did not approach closer than fifty light years, and turned back at level one, to avoid detection. The Thandol don’t know that our technician heard this conversation, and because they didn’t share the information with you when you met with them on your arrival today, they intended to keep this world’s location to themselves. I’m not sure why.”

With a thoughtful heavy huff of air, looking off into the distance, Thond needed only a brief moment to reach a conclusion. “The Emperor wants the Thandol fleet to exact his personal vengeance for the attack at Wendal, and this Federation world’s location was learned before the attack here even happened. This second attack will only increase the Emperor’s desire for only his navy to exact the revenge.

“I know these cautious flat-footers. They’ll twiddle their tentacles for a long time after the disaster here, and then will secretly gather a massive force of Smashers and other ships from the other two security sectors, and then pound this discovered planet into ruin, as an example. They won’t want any of their security forces to know of the shift of the Thandol fleet elements they will use, so it will be done slowly, and only they possess the monitor stations, which keeps their ship movements secret.”

Grudfad didn’t bother to ask why Thond believed the Thandol wouldn’t discuss their fleet movements with their lesser security forces. Every Ragnar knew why.

Thond continued to ruminate. “With roughly twenty thousand warships of all classes, and five remaining Crushers, they only need to pull a little over a thousand ships from each of the three security sectors. They can do that with just their Smashers, and probably a few hundred Stampedes, if they decide to take along larger and more impressive ships than Smashers. They love to impress an opponent, so they might decide to use some of the remaining Crushers as well.”

He thrust out a lower thick lip in consideration. “On second thought, High Command may not risk any more Crushers against these humans in a fleet battle, unless the Emperor pushes them to do so. The Federation has proven to the Thandol what we have long known; those giant ships are too big, too ponderous, and too expensive to be practical, and they are overly vulnerable to agile attackers. They’re only good for intimidating or punishing a subservient species on rebellious servant worlds, which essentially have few defenses from their attacks anyway. The Thandol only worry about us, the Thack Delos and the Finth. So long as they enforce a ten to one advantage of their ships versus each of our individual strengths, we can’t possibly win a fight with them. They have better than a three to one advantage if we were all combined. Besides, they know that none of us trusts the other two species very much.”

“Sire, is there a way we can take advantage of this information we have?”

Thond quickly hunched his massive shoulders once, to indicate his willingness to take action, or commit to an attack. A Ragnar gesture equivalent to saying yes. “The Thandol will take a half an orbit or more, to prepare for a large honor based attack, and as usual in a matter of Thandol pride, do it without asking any of their security forces to participate. Without knowing more about how humans fight in surface battles, I don't think they would risk landing their own mostly ceremonial troops, to take control of the cities of the planet. Instead, they’ll smash the cities and industries, demolish everything with Decoherence bombs, missiles, plasma and laser cannons, and then leave it in flames. Landing troops would take another quarter orbit of planning, and that would have to include us, since they don't have true combat ground forces. We have less than a half orbit in which to act first.”

He tilted his head sideways on its thick neck, considering his options. “As Force Commander for this annexation, I can select any Federation world I chose to attack, and I want a mainly human inhabited world. Their other citizen species do not seem particularly aggressive or warlike. I would have to request additional Thandol Smashers if I want those weapons platforms, but not if I use only our own ships. I can attack first if we can learn the coordinates of where this Human world is.”

Grudfad squatted, the Ragnar equivalent to a human bow, and extended his hand, a small object in his palm. “Sire, our technician had the foresight to record what he was hearing when he realized the nature of the conversation in the adjacent compartment. The galactic coordinates were spoken by the monitor agent to his superior, so all we need do is run this recording through our Thandol translation software.”

“Promote that technician.”

“I did, Sire.”

“Then do it again, and offer him a combat role on the bombardment and invasion you and I will be planning. We will only use thirty cycles to get ready, to prevent the Thandol from detecting that we are planning to steal their honor target. We can’t even scout that target in advance at that distance, because Thandol monitors would detect our ships when they had to travel in third level to make the round trip quickly enough. The Federation may also have tracking monitors, and we don’t want them warned either.

He thumped his chest once. “I want to be standing on that falgrat world of human droppings, taking possession of its bloody remains before the Thandol have even decided when they will attack.”

“Commander, the Emperor wouldn’t permit us to attack a world that he wants punished by his own navy as matter of Thandol honor. He’ll be angry when he learns we struck first. What will you say to him?”

“That the Thandol shouldn’t hide their own attack plans from the ally they assigned to fight the Federation on their behalf. They granted me the personal task of this annexation, and I was given considerable autonomy on behalf of the Empire to subdue any of the Federation planets. I will say I exercised the authority they gave me. This is the first established and most populated Federation world found, and I can claim we found it independently, by use of our own scout ships. It also isn’t where the Thandol suggested the Federation’s older worlds were located.

“Perhaps the human population didn’t originate within the heart of the territory they took away from the Krall. We’ve apparently been looking for their main worlds in the wrong volume of space.”

“Sire, the Thandol surely won’t let us have use of as many Smashers as we had for our last attack, to replace what was lost then, and more just lost here. We know they can spare those ships, but they’ll not want to reduce their patrol forces so much that we would notice how many ships will have been diverted for their own major attack.”

“That’s true, but I don't want replacement Smashers. I won’t use those weapons platforms for two reasons. Asking for them now might give our plans away, and our Ravagers proved able to fight much better against the fast, agile human warships than could the Smashers. I certainly wouldn’t want to pit even lighter Thandol ships against those human ships, although I think I could safely ask for some of them.

“For some reason, the human ships they sent to Meglor didn’t demonstrate the superior stealth we encountered previously. We would lose too many crewmates for little gain by using smaller Thandol warships, which might be given to us without raising questions.

“By following the Empire’s previously ordered directions with this plan, I know they will have no justification for a punitive attack on Tantor, or on either of our colony worlds. I won't need to leave a defense force against improbable Thandol treachery, and I expect to bring most of the fleet home before they learn where we went.”

He pulled logistics information from his embedded chip, which the Ragnar called a memory assistant, and then continued. “By using home defense reserves we can deploy over two thousand Ravagers, depending on how many of them at Meglor can be made operational again quickly enough. We have six hundred Shredders to use as missile defense screens for the fleet. I think we should take all four hundred of our Pounders based on Tantor, for landing armored troops, packing in at least sixteen hundred Pillagers for armored support on the ground, four per Pounder. Four hundred of the Pillagers will carry bunker busters, eight hundred with plasma and laser cannons, and four hundred will have lighter lasers and Debilitater projectors to face down enemy soldiers we meet on the ground, not to mention their civilians. I intend to take direct control of the largest cities we find, so I’ll take all eight of our Spears, each one loaded with sixty Hoths internally and fifty attached externally, for air cover and ground assault. The fifty Hoths that can’t fit inside the carriers will be ground based, after we have taken enough territory to build landing fields and support facilities. We’ll try to capture two large spaceports intact for the carriers and our supply ships, provided we don’t have to destroy the installations in the process. That’s a hundred ten Hoths per Spear, for eight hundred eighty. We’ll have to remove some maintenance equipment, parts, and ammunition reserves from the Spears to make room for so many spaceplanes, pilots, and support personnel, so those other things will have to travel on our supply ships.”

He scratched idly at his chin, looking at a list of Ragnar ships destroyed or significantly damaged here at Meglor, and the list of those still functional, or nearly so, provided by Grudfad.

“I am certain we will recover some Stranglers here, which the Thandol gave to us anyway, and we might find more elsewhere in the Empire, possibly in the other two sectors. We can negotiate with the Finth and Thack Delos to borrow them. Popular uprisings have been reduced under this Emperor, because he has not increased taxes recently. With a war starting, that is definitely going to change, but we can try to obtain underused Stranglers before that happens. We can probably obtain eighty of those. The Thandol certainly will not try to use them themselves, deep in atmosphere on their secretly planned orbital attack, because they will not have our Ravagers there to defend them. Another flaw in their plans, because they refused to include us.

“We will have a foothold on that world, if not its outright surrender, before the Thandol are even ready to move. We need over five hundred large support ships, to carry food supplies, parts, and spare power packs for our ground forces, and I can commandeer about two hundred fifty of our own commercial ships, which can carry part of what we will not have room to carry on our Spears. I’ll commandeer another two hundred fifty ships from subservient species in our security sector, and pay for them by reducing our share of the taxes we normally collect from them.”

“What will you eventually tell the High Command, Sire? I am sure you will not wait until they are ready to attack.”

“No. But before I tell them what we did, we will locate a web of other Federation planets that trade with our target world. The Thandol can hit and punish one of those worlds just as easily, and we can get the credit for finding them.”

“Sire, do you anticipate an effective ground resistance on this world? There was not on the colonies we and the Thandol have hit.”

“No. We will have around three thousand six hundred ships in this invasion fleet. We will strike fast and hard, so the humans won’t know what hit them.”

****

“I need to strike while the iron’s hot, my man.” Chief Haveram observed. “Howard, this mining deal can’t wait for Pittsburg II to ship the equipment to Tanner’s world, where I can buy it outside of the limits of the PU embargo. We have to start building our new ships as quickly as possible, to prepare for what we know the Empire can throw at us.”

“I can’t see how you sitting in jail, waiting for an unfavorable PU court hearing will speed that along.” Colonel Howard Caldwell was close to the end of his term of duty on Poldark, because General Nabarone would be returning. Howard intended to retire from the PU army and partner up with Haveram, in his growing interstellar shipping business.

One of Nabarone’s armies had just finished mopping up the last of the Krall on K1, now again being called Greater West Africa. “Mopping up” was the euphemistic phrase the PU army used in press releases, to describe the extermination of every warrior found on K1, down to the adolescents, cubs, and unhatched eggs. There was never an offer by the Krall to surrender, and it was unlikely that troops that suffered or witnessed horrific Krall atrocities on Poldark would have considered accepting their surrender if they had tried. They made certain never to offer the possibility, to keep the idea out of the warrior’s minds. A smaller second army had also cleared the Krall from Bollovstic's Republican Independency, in a solar system near Poldark.

Caldwell promised to help when the shit hit Haveram’s fan. “Chief, I’ll try to post your bail, and aid your escape off whatever planet has your ass locked up. But they’ll certainly have seized the Falcon, or whatever the Hell you’ve decided to call it on some phony registration while in port there. You’ll lose that slow-poke relic you love so much.”

“Well, I can’t take one of our captured clanships to a Hub world. Everyone knows only Kobani fly those. I’ll pretend to be a mercenary opportunist, intending to mine the exposed planetary core wreckage of that exploded gas giant in the Meadow system. I bribed a person in ship registry here on Poldark to list my ship, called The Bird of the Republic, as being owned by a former miner from Bollovstic. It’s a sympathetic cover.”

Rumor had it that Bollovstic would eventually have a name change too, whenever some rich Hub world became interested in it for its rich agricultural value. It wouldn’t keep its old Rim world colony name, because so few of the original colonists had escaped alive, and almost none of them wanted to return and start again with nothing. The Hub world banks that had supported and financed the initial colony landings, from before the Gene War, had been based on the prosperous Hub world of Meadow. The total destruction of that planet and wrecking of its solar system by the Krall had left nobody to repay the loans to, and no colonists to tax for the payments anyway. The irony was that most of the few hundred thousand survivors from the Krall invasion of Bollovstic had fled to that patron world, which had offered them shelter. Many of the original victims of the Krall invasion of Bollovstic became double victims when they died on Meadow.

“So, you want to claim to be from Bollovstic, and also a survivor of the Meadow destruction, in order to buy mining equipment to make a profit out of core fragments drifting in the Meadow system? Kind of cynical, to play on sympathies like that, don’t you think?”

“If that was what I was going to do, it would be. But I’m actually trying to avoid gaining that sort of future sympathy, after Koban and Haven have been destroyed by the Empire. Without Koban and Haven, the Federation will fall, and then so will Human Space.”

“Don’t preach to me, pal. I know why you’re doing it and I agree. However, it’s possible somebody you’re dealing with on Pittsburg II will have a scintilla of integrity, and report you to the authorities for your exploitation of the Meadow disaster.”

“Howard, who the hell do you think I’m dealing with there? The Charitable Ladies of the Society for Refugees? I have contacts with people who deal under the table even when they have reputable customers, and if they’re working with a reputed smuggler like me, they charge extra, and will go out and steal what their customer wants. On the surface, I’m operating as a reputable customer that has an unfortunate prohibition against buying equipment for sale on the open market, and for which there are only legitimate uses.

“I didn’t ask the providers for stolen goods, and I’m offering a fat finder’s fee if they don’t dig too deep into my cover. Something I know they don’t give a rat’s ass about anyway. That cover will shield the paperwork from scrutiny by people with casual awareness of the sale, and of the off world shipment of perfectly legal machinery. It even shows that the shipments go to Tanner’s world, out on the Rim, where the embargo can’t be enforced.”

“It’ll take you months to make enough round trips to transport all that mining equipment to Koban in the Falcon, which has about one third the capacity of a far faster clanship.”

“Ye of little faith. I can’t believe I thought you’d make a smart enough partner to keep up with me.” He shook his head in mock dismay.

“Why would I take the Falcon all the way to Koban? Besides, I told my contacts that I was really going to mine at Meadow, which is much closer than Koban to Pittsburg II, or even to Tanner’s world, where I’m pretending it will go. The Rim world is a just cover name to protect them, not me, so they can say they didn’t know I was also deceiving them. You’re too gullible, and blinded by that shiny streak of honesty.” He winked as his friend’s face turned red.

Caldwell laughed. “It’s a reflection of my having to manage Poldark’s evolution back to civil rule from martial law. Like when the Khartoum kidnappings happened, I’m also part of law enforcement here. With shady friends like you, I’m sure I’ll acquire the appropriate degree of skullduggery in no time. Although, a round trip to Meadow from Pitt 2 only takes a week in the Falcon, and you are supposedly flying to Tanner’s. You’d be returning too often for reloading if you use the same spaceport. Let me test my skullduggery instincts. You’ll have Kobani ships with suppressed gamma rays waiting somewhere near Pitt 2, and transfer the equipment to them. Then come back for more, using a different spaceport each time.”

“There ya go, Howard. I have a more corrosive effect on honest people than I thought.”

“Thanks, I think. When are you leaving for Pitt 2?”

“As soon as I hear from Cal Branson, who’s headed to Tanner’s world to pick up supplies going to Zanzibar. He’ll tell me if he was able to set up the cover story that our equipment was sent there from Pittsburg II, if there should be inquiries later. The PU knows some supplies from Human Space are going to Federation colonies, routed through Rim worlds, and they can’t stop that from happening. They won’t be able to trace our equipment after it leaves Pitt 2 beyond Tanner’s world. If they’re told it arrived, and was sold and shipped to the Federation, that ends the trail for the PU embargo enforcers, who can’t force a Rim government to show them the bill of sales.

“The PU might try to stop future sales of similar equipment to Tanner’s world from Hub worlds,” the Chief acknowledged, “but we’ll just shift our pretend deliveries to another Rim world. I’m only protecting my contacts on Pitt 2 with that story, so they don’t get burned and refuse to deal with me in the future.”

Caldwell remembered something he’d heard about Tanner’s world and shipping. “By the way, we won’t keep the speed advantage in our transport business for long. PU shipyards have started turning out new merchant ships with T-cubed Jump drives. They saw how our ships have dominated long distance shipping between Rim worlds, and that we’re working our way into New Colony markets, who want a share of that faster shipping. When diplomatic relations are finally opened between us, they know we’d enter Hub markets and take a share of that business too.

“I learned one of the new merchant ships is operating out of Tanner’s world. Earth put pressure on the New Mombasa colonists on Zanzibar, through family and friends left behind, to maintain their ties to Earth, and therefore to the PU. As a gesture of goodwill, the Mombasa colonists chartered the Streaker, a new Earth registered freighter with T-cubed drives, to bring in supplies and more colonists, but only from Tanner’s world. President MacDougal said the Federation has a policy of open ports of entry, and welcomes shipping from Human Space to help us expand faster. Now we have some competition.”

Haveram shrugged. “It was bound to happen. At least the Federation, with about five thousand T-cubed ships, all of them well suited for cargo, will outnumber a new PU merchant fleet for a decade or more. We need to establish our markets and contracts while we have the edge.”

Caldwell thought of another problem. “Ours are also warships, so we can’t devote many of them to commercial enterprise in the midst of a new war. Although, I’ll bet the Prada and Torki can out produce even the large PU shipyards. Especially if we activate some of the abandoned yards on the former Krall clan production worlds.”

Haveram agreed. “If the new mining equipment can produce enough raw materials for them. Koban’s metal rich system provides plenty of raw materials on moons and asteroids.

“I just hope we can add to our new fleet without having to salvage many of the functional clanships for material, as the Prada suggested we do. We need the extra warships that can double as cargo carriers. The most severely damaged Krall ships, and the thousands of large wreckage fragments orbiting K1 were collected and towed to Koban. The Prada fed the scrap into their forges to get the metal alloys for the first generation hulls of our new ships. Salvaging older but still operational T-cube warships might speed that up, but it wouldn’t expand our fighting capability. I’m afraid we’re going to need more ships than we can build, if the Empire starts to press us aggressively.

“Maggi says the Hothor estimate the Thandol have twenty-five thousand warships of all classes, spread across their three security sectors, in addition to what their security forces possess. For an Empire that hasn’t been in a serious war for over a thousand years, that’s a lot of capability. The bulk of those ships are Thandol built and operated, which I suspect is to give them total domination over their combined puppet security forces, which have far smaller fleets. The Hothor mostly see Ragnar warships in their sector, but assuming the Finth and Thack Delos are kept at a similar strength, they each have roughly two thousand to twenty-five hundred warships, designed by their own species. They often borrow Thandol built ships, converted for their use as they did at Zanzibar 2. I hope we don’t find out too soon if the Hothor numbers are accurate.”

****

Cal Branson’s first Comtap link from Tanner’s world wasn’t to Haveram. It was an urgent conference call to Mirikami and President MacDougal.

“Cal, its night time on Haven, but midday for me on Koban. Stewart…, excuse me, President MacDougal, is getting out of bed. He’ll be on in a moment.”

“Sorry, Tet. This seemed vital, and I think we’ll need to warn the Planetary Union. I’ve invited the President of Tanner’s world to meet with me in two hours, and it’s the middle of the night for him as well.”

“Whoa. You were serious about this being urgent. Hold on, I have the link open with Stewart, but he apparently put it in privacy mode. I think he hit the bathroom first. He’s always been a stickler for propriety. Even if we can’t see him, he knows where he is and feels awkward talking.”

Then suddenly someone said, “Not privacy mode, merely muted, thank you very much. I can hear you both, but there was no need to share presidential morning sounds was there?”

MacDougal sounded a bit peeved, as the distinct and universal sound of an automatic flush was heard in the background. New technology hadn’t eliminated water as the simplest waste mover on planets with plenty of water, and the advanced and rapid purification process used on spacecraft had long ago entered homes and businesses everywhere, to release clean and sanitized fluids back to nature.

“Sorry, Mr. President,” Tet offered, smiling at how red-faced he knew MacDougal would be at the moment, since he’d also hear the toilet sounds echoed in their joint mental link.

“Shove the Mr. President guff this damned early in the morning. Dark of night actually, for me anyway. And that goes for you too Cal. I won’t invite you fishing for Gulpers next month if you get all formal with me. What in hell’s happening? Where did you say you were? A place called Tanner’s world?”

“Yes, Sir. I was supposed to pick up supplies to deliver to Zanzibar, only to find that a PU merchant ship, named the Streaker had been here several days ahead of me, and loaded them up for delivery. Anyway, a lost charter isn’t why I called you. It’s about the PU merchant ship that made the run, and just returned so quickly. And that’s partly the problem, because it’s a new T-cubed ship. I think it blazed a trail directly there, and then directly back to here.”

Stewart’s concern was the wrong one. “We know the PU intends to compete with us with transport, even on runs out to Federation planets. That’s why I told them we were allowing free entry, to spark some healthy interaction and competition. If they don’t reciprocate for Hub worlds, we can…” Mirikami apologized, but interrupted.

“Excuse me Stu, I think Cal’s description of their blazing a trail is what he’s calling us about. Is that it?”

“Yes, Sir. At the main spaceport, I confirmed the Streaker’s captain was given a copy of our procedures for indirect entry and exit at all Federation planets, but we didn’t know they even knew where any of the colonies were. Apparently, Zanzibar’s coordinates were shared here on Tanner’s world by some of the colonists, those evacuated for advanced medical treatment after the Ragnar fleet’s attack. When the Streaker returned, it did a White Out at two hundred miles above the equator, directly from level three. No effort was made to conceal their trail. I spoke to one of their crew, who didn’t know I was a Kobani shipping competitor, and she said they did the same thing at Zanzibar. She bragged about how fast and accurate T-cubed travel is. They have no idea why we’re using a level one arrival and departure at our worlds.”

Mirikami explained, for Stewarts benefit. “We know the Empire has infiltrated tachyon wake monitor ships, and they’re trying to find our worlds from tachyon traces when we’re in level two or three. We’re dropping down to level 1, where we can’t be traced, and do that while we’re not moving directly towards any star system. We’re still ten light years from a colony when we turn towards them, and even farther away from the Koban system. It adds days to the transit, but it doesn’t lead the enemy straight to a potential target.”

“So? The Empire already knows where Zanzibar is. That cat’s already out of the bag.”

Cal told him what Mirikami expected, and dreaded to hear. “Sir, the Streaker was followed back to Tanner’s world. There was no second burst of gamma rays here, but we know the Empire uses ships that swallow them. I checked with an automated patrol boat we posted near Zanzibar, about twenty light years out from them, closer to the Empire to watch for traffic from there.

“With roughly a 200 light year radius for tracing T-cubed travel, and about 150 lights for slower T-squared movements, it recorded the Streaker’s arrival and departure, exiting from level three right over the colony. However, when the Streaker left, a second T-cubed trail started behind them inside the Zanzibar system, and followed their path to the limits of the monitor’s detection range. The monitor didn’t have a record of the second ship ever arriving at Zanzibar, so it came in using level one at some earlier date, and sat there waiting. I’m certain that Tanner’s world has been found by the Empire, which means the rest of Human Space will be identified soon as well, since there are two other Rim worlds within 200 lights of them.”

Tet agreed, with a distinction. “The enemy will think they’ve found higher population Federation worlds, since they don't know there are two political entities in this galactic spur. It’s only a matter of time before they follow the web of Jump traffic to other Rim worlds and from them to the Hub.”

Stewart reacted as Mirikami expected, and approved. “We have to warn not only the President of Tanner’s world, we need to meet with President Strickland, to let the PU know what’s coming. It may not be pleasant making contact directly with her, if the attempt leaks to her political opposition. Perhaps you can use your friendly relationship with Vice President Bledso, who surely still has connections within the navy. You worked with one of her Admirals at Poldark. If she’s still active duty, perhaps you can reach Bledso through her?”

“That would be Admiral Foxworthy. She’s been promoted since her defense of Poldark, and she has command of the PU’s first fleet now. Henry’s troops are transported by, and provided support by first fleet elements. I can find out from him how to reach her through backchannels. It’s too bad we don’t have any Kobani with the navy anymore. Comtaps are so much faster. We need to convince them to mobilize quickly, because we know the Empire is ready to pounce. I’ll get right on that.”

****

Bledso beamed, “Captain Mirikami, I’m delighted to see you again. I presume you’ve still not allowed President MacDougal to give you a more deserving designation or official title?”

“Madam Vice President, I’ve fought a constant battle in that regard. Captain of a ship is what I’ve always wanted to be. If my poor old Flight of Fancy could have been given new T-cubed Jump engines, and converted to a warship, I’d be at her helm. I’m proud to captain the Mark, but she wasn’t intended for humans. However, the title Captain is the one I relish most, on the Bridge of any good ship under my command. I’d be surprised if the same wasn’t once true of a former admiral who rose through the ranks, surely aspiring to command her own ship.”

She laughed, and agreed. “It was my fondest aspiration as an ensign, to be captain of a warship seventy years ago, so I sympathize with your reluctance to allow anyone to take it away from you. I wasn’t nearly as resolute as you.”

She smiled and shook her head, “Even so, I can’t pretend that’s all you are to the Federation. Admiral Foxworthy is not given to hyperbole, and she told me that it was vital for the future of the Planetary Union that I meet with you as soon as possible. I commandeered a cruiser yesterday, to meet you here, in orbit around a Rim world with a name I hardly remembered.

“And before we get bogged down with the use of cumbersome titles, you invited me to call you Tet when we first met on Poldark years ago, and I’d like you to call me Adriana. I know you know I’m the VP of the Planetary Union, just as I know you are effectively the Secretary of the Navy, or maybe Military Chief of Staff now, or some equivalent title, since it’s been a couple of years since Medford refused to recognize the Galactic Federation. What do you know about something that threatens the PU? I don't for a moment think it’s the Federation itself threatening us, and it certainly isn’t the Krall.”

“No, it certainly isn’t us Adriana, but it’s indirectly tied to our joint defeat of the Krall.”

She was taken aback. “How so?”

“You know the story of how the Olt’kitapi inadvertently unleased the Krall on the galaxy, but even we in the Federation didn’t know exactly what the threat was they feared, which induced them to risk arming the barbarian Krall with advanced weapons, expecting them to become their defense force. In the last six months, we’ve discovered what that ancient threat was. It’s called the Thandol Empire and stretches along the Milky Way’s Sagittarius Arm, and a common boundary is located where our Orion Spur branches away.

“Apparently, as a result of our defeat of the Krall, the Thandol are no longer deterred by that species implacable ferocity, and have decided to take possession of the stars where the Olt’kitapi once lived, and which the Krall took away from them. They were the foe the Olt’kitapi feared. The Empire has already attacked three of our new colonies and announced their intent to annex all of our volume of space. We’ve hit back at them twice, to attempt to dissuade them, and we’ve guarded the locations of our other inhabited worlds. We have a thousand ships distributed among our new colonies, and more than that at Koban, but we doubt the Empire will hesitate to invade if they find a major population center.”

“Why does that automatically make them a threat to the Planetary Union? We’re a separate political entity from the Federation. As you well know, we haven’t even officially recognized you yet, thanks to the stubbornness of the LOR party. Our volume of space was never part of the Orion Spur occupied by the Olt’kitapi.”

Mirikami shrugged. “Claiming the former Olt’kitapi region is merely a pretext. They want the entire Spur. They’ve attacked two of our colony worlds that were never used by, or within the Olt’kitapi volume, or even used by the Krall.

“We don’t believe they know anything about Human Space, or even the full extent of Federation territory for that matter, since they haven’t found Koban, which is on the far side from them.

“After their first attack, we made peaceful contact with one of their conquered and subservient races, called the Hothor, and from them we have learned more about the Thandol and their Empire. They rule a volume of stars at least as vast as what the Krall controlled, but it’s not nearly so desolate and unpopulated. That’s because their strategy wasn’t to exterminate the twenty-six species they encountered. They don’t exactly enslave the species they meet, but they do control them rigidly and ruthlessly, taxing them and requiring them to support the Empire.

“They forcibly annexed each civilization they encountered, making them subservient to the Thandol and their Emperor, and although they’re being exploited, they’re allowed to self-govern their existing worlds within limits. Future expansion hopes and colonization by these species is terminated, and revolts, or even displays of resistance against the Thandol are brutally punished. They are allowed to conduct strictly regulated trade with nearby species, and of course they are required to trade with the Thandol at a market disadvantage.”

Bledso stopped him there, wanting to cut to the chase. “Tet, you’ve told me this mystery empire is a threat to the Federation because they want the former Olt’kitapi stars. I have to ask, although I dread the answer because you brought me way out here to Tanner’s World. How are we involved with what sounds like your problem?”

“The Empire doesn’t know the PU exists, at least not yet. However, one of your new T-cubed merchant ships, the Streaker, came out here and talked a warehouse manager into letting them transport a cargo originally intended for one of our ships. It ran supplies and equipment out to our colony of Zanzibar Redoux, which is one of the three colonies the Empire had previously found and attacked. Our ships take precautions on such flights, to prevent their being traced in Tachyon Space to and from their ports of call. The Streaker was cautioned by the port authorities here of our required entry procedures, and given a copy of that in writing.

“That captain didn’t follow those precautions, and we now know that an Empire ship followed them back here. The Thandol will believe they’ve finally found a developed Federation planet, and we expect them to send a large fleet here in the near future, to either capture Tanner’s world, or destroy as much as possible if unable to hold it.”

Bledso shrewdly pointed something out; uncomfortably aware of how cold it would sound. “You know that Tanner’s isn’t actually part of the PU. They’re in Human Space, where we provide interstellar security, but they’re an independent Rim world. You’re already fighting the Empire, so why don’t you ambush them here, with that five thousand ship fleet you so proudly showed off to former President Medford?”

Mirikami knew the game, and explained what he was confident this former Admiral already had deduced. “Even if we do that, from here they’ll definitely detect Jump traffic in and out of other nearby Rim worlds, and they will follow some of that traffic to the richer worlds of the Hub. Despite controlling a far larger volume of stars than in Human Space, we believe they have roughly a similar population to that of the PU, and little of it will be trusted to fight on behalf of the Empire. As I said, we’re sure they want to take possession of the entire Orion Spur, no matter who they find living here.”

Now the admiral, rather than the politician she’d become, asked a military question. “If you’ve fought them twice, how do they measure up to the Krall?”

“Does the fact that they hid from the Krall for nearly twenty thousand years tell you anything? They have weapons technology nearly as advanced as the Olt’kitapi gave to the Krall, and they have weapon types we don’t have, but which we understand and can copy if we wish. We’ve not seen or heard of anything they have to match the gravity control of the Dismantler ships. I think that weapon, which was only considered a construction tool by the Olt’kitapi, is what held them at bay from facing the Krall. They don’t believe we have that weapon, which is correct, we don’t. Nevertheless, I think the Federation and the PU match up reasonably well with them technologically, now that we both have T-cubed travel. Nova bombs have proven devastatingly effective against them, but they have a similar weapons delivery system that could be modified to do the same thing to us.”

“Tet, that was useful technology information, but I was actually asking about their physical capability. That was why normal humans couldn’t compete effectively in combat against the Krall, but you Kobani kicked their butts.”

“Oh, that. Well, we’ve only faced a security force species used by the Thandol in actual close space combat, called the Ragnar, which resemble an upright postured mountain gorilla of Earth, with longer human proportioned legs. We have two of them as captives, and they’re stronger than a normal human, but certainly not a Kobani, or even a Krall. They’re no faster than a normal human is, they prefer lower gravity than that of Earth’s, and they have nothing like the powerful body, redundant organs and self-repairing capability of a Krall.

“No offense intended to you at your age Adriana, but a younger you with a gun, facing one of them with a gun, in a one gravity field? I’d give you the mobility edge, since they evolved on a lower gravity world than did humans. I don't think, without powered armor, you’d want to go hand to hand with them. They have muscular bodies. But we Kobani could pull an arm off a Krall. This species is no contest one on one with us, but they’re smarter than a typical Krall warrior is. Like before, they also outnumber us.”

“So, the Ragnar are proxy fighters for the Thandol?” She asked. This made her wonder about their masters. “What about the Thandol? Are they tougher than their ape soldiers?”

“We also have two of those captive, and they resemble smaller sized elephants, four legs, with two very strong and flexible trunks below their mouths, paired with two somewhat smaller manipulator tentacles on the front of their faces above their mouths. They’re strictly vegetarian, have no tusks, and are almost seven feet high at the front shoulder. I think the Ragnar might be stronger, if not as heavy or massive.”

He mentally compared Maggi’s Mind Tap memory of interaction with prisoners of both species.

“Adriana, I don’t think either species would make better fighters than normal humans, because like our alien allies, they aren’t as adaptable or as innovative as humans have proven to be. They use fewer of the available habitable worlds if they’re too hot, too cold, extra dry or watery, and they both preferentially use worlds with less than Earth gravity.

“Bear in mind, these aren’t the Krall on their evolutionary Great Path. They’ll want to win as quickly as possible, not spread the conquests out over thousands of years for improving their breed. And with their technology, they might be able to do that. Win quickly, I mean.

“From information gained from the Hothor species, a sloth-look-alike people but faster moving, they have many more warships than we do, and that’s yours and ours combined. Perhaps as high as twenty-five thousand warships.”

Shaking her head, Bledso said, “Damn it, Tet. Can’t you people ever make an enemy out of a weak alien species?”

He gave her a sour look. “Hell, we’ve never made an enemy out of any of them we’ve met. It’s always been gifts of violence, which we couldn’t refuse. Besides, there were no Kobani when the Krall first invaded, so we can’t be blamed for triggering that war. Humanity needed a miracle to survive them, and we provided that miracle for us both. The Federation has the most warships, and of course a relative handful of Kobani fighters. The PU has tens of millions of soldiers, sailors, and many hundreds of populated and productive worlds. To me, an alliance seems advantageous to us both.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Tet. I’m not blaming you or your people for antagonizing this empire. At least not without strong evidence to the contrary. You have always acted honorably and aboveboard in my experience. Admiral Mauss joined you and became a Kobani, now with Mind Tap she tells me. That’s a powerful testimonial from a person I know personally, and I always trusted her judgment and integrity implicitly.”

“You know about that?” He hadn’t seen Mauss lately, after she volunteered to go work with Nabarone, cleaning out the last of the Krall.

Bledso smiled. “Yes. She’s managed to stay in touch. She congratulated me after Marlene Strickland, with me on her coattails, won the election for DEW. We’ve shared text messages several dozen times. They came through that amazing new Instellarnet system that one of your non-Kobani returnees to Earth established. I think Golda’s probably aboard one of the two huge Torki hospital ships in the Poldark system, or perhaps the one at Greater West Africa or at Bollovstic. She didn’t say, of course, but I think she’s involved with the Kobani conversions you folks are performing on our soldiers and sailors, before they get discharged as the Krall war winds down.”

Mirikami tried to hide his surprise. It didn’t work.

She chuckled. “As fast as your muscle reactions are Tet, it didn’t prevent your irises from changing slightly. President Strickland, when she found out, thought she was telling me something I didn’t already know, and I acted surprised. Admiral Foxworthy, who told me about it earlier, said she learned from scuttlebutt that some of her noncommissioned people took leave and traveled to worlds with Krall extermination sweeps still underway, instead of at some luxury port of call. They may have visited one of those giant ships for the second week of their leave, then returned to duty seeming to be more rundown than when they left. Except, within another week or two, they become the most vigorous, healthy and happy crewmates on their ship. Foxworthy has secretly, and personally, tested some of them for Mind Tap ability, by directing surprising thoughts at them while shaking hands. No reactions, so none appear to have received that modification.”

She watched his eyes again. “I guess that’s reserved only for those that live on Koban?”

The question seemed a bit accusatory, but not hostile. Aware of his reaction before, his eyes revealed nothing now, but his mouth did.

“Excellent detective work. We’ve debated admitting what we’re doing, offering Kobani mods to enlisted military members that want them when they go on leave. They’re approached by Kobani, usually spec ops members, those that do have Mind Tap, to make the offer if they display strong and positive interest. We know what their reaction will be before we ever tender the invitation. They aren’t asked to become Federation citizens, or to give up their careers, or make any lifestyle change whatever. No strings attached. We do inform them of the appropriate military regulations and Hub laws.

“Although, as you might suspect, if we came forward to talk about this, I’d have been more comfortable telling you before informing the President, if that wouldn’t be politically backward. Our final position was that when this inevitably leaks to the press, and the public learns about it, plausible deniability that those in charge of the PU didn’t know what we were doing would be your political and legal shields.”

Nodding she said, “That’s why we’ve kept silent. The president needed a hypothetical question answered first. She asked her legal team to research the appropriate laws and military regulations that pertain to military personnel that accept gene mods. I was sure you had done this already, or that Mauss had done it for you, because we don’t know of a single officer to whom you have furnished this conversion. Several outstanding enlisted members have refused offers to attend officer training when offered the opportunity. Using a surreptitious test, we have determined they were already Kobani. We now have a quick passive DNA test, and damned if we aren’t riddled with you guys. It’s obvious it hasn’t had a negative effect, because our highest re-ups are from those with the mods. They volunteer to go where the Krall are still found.”

Mirikami knew what he’d been told, but he wanted the VP to tell him the PU’s official position. “The legal determination was what?”

“Like Golda didn’t tell you.” She said pointedly. “There’s a difference in the oaths, and regulations, which pertain to enlisted personnel compared to those for commissioned officers. A PU military officer, from any planet in Human Space, Hub world or Rim, could potentially be subjected to courts-martial proceedings. Our enlisted ranks are only subject to prompt discharge as an Undesirable.

“They might face civil proceedings if from a Hub world, because gene mods are still outlawed on worlds that are subject to federal PU laws. Each Rim world has jurisdiction over their citizens after they’re discharged from a commitment to the PU when they enlisted. Golda, as a general officer, retired or not, was committed to the PU for life, and might be in trouble if she came home and publicly revealed her change. Only the LOR continues to fight the repeal of the so called Gene Laws.”

Mirikami was relieved, and nodded. “That’s what we understood. Enlisted Hub citizens were advised that they might not be able to return home if discharged as an Undesirable, but that a number of Rim worlds would offer them sanctuary if they chose to remain in Human Space. Of course, the Federation would accept them.

“Concerning Mind Tap, if they agree to undergo additional vetting, to determine suitability for those mods, they are offered them only if they go to Koban for a month. If they refuse to open their minds completely to the examiners, or do but don’t qualify because of a number of individual factors, usually related to their motives for wanting the feature, they’re still welcomed as citizens. But they will not get Mind Tap ability.”

He was honest with her. “We gave everyone living on Koban that modification initially, if they wanted it, but eventually we came to realize that not everyone should have that ability. We can’t take it away, but perhaps three in a hundred people are predisposed to abuse their ability, with other humans or aliens, for personal advantage. Any Kobani, with or without that mod can easily block their thoughts, so they’re at no disadvantage dealing with those that have Tap ability. In fact, any human can easily learn to block their thoughts, as we told you from the outset.”

“Are you saying you never steal thoughts from anyone, human or alien, without their knowledge?”

He outright laughed at that absurdity. “Hell no! It’s the person’s motives for obtaining such thoughts, and how they intend to use that knowledge that matters to us. To protect ourselves, the Federation and our alien citizens, and all of Human Space, we stole unguarded thoughts from those Ragnar and Thandol prisoners. We certainly didn’t tell them they could block us if they knew about our ability and wanted to withhold the information. Eventually, they’ll learn what we can do, and it will get harder to find out what they’re thinking.”

He grinned. “I stole your unguarded thoughts once. When we first met on Poldark. I needed to know if you wanted to defeat the Krall badly enough to accept gene mod supermen to help you win the war. That was my narrow goal, and I didn’t probe for more than what we absolutely needed to know. Sneaky? You bet. But I wouldn’t have used it to try to block your career if you hated who we were, or to get into your bank account, or cheat you at poker. I’d just damn well try not to let you find out about my ability.”

She wasn’t exactly surprised he’d done that, but looked skeptical at his stated limitations.

He added. “I don't say that I wouldn’t do any one of those last things if an overriding larger good needed to be served, outside of my personal advantage. For example, two of our young men recently busted a corrupt financial and political system on a Rim world, where prominent people there were involved in murder, extortion, and political blackmail. That was done by pulling unguarded thoughts from the minds of the perpetrators, who were known to have hired some of the murderers.”

She frowned slightly, but only in thought. “I follow even Rim world news. Was that Chisholm last year? They sent a few hundred influential people to prison, some convicted of murder, including people involved in the corruption from off planet.”

“Yes, it was. Our young men didn’t profit from the millions or even billions of Hub credits they could have secretly pilfered from illicit and hidden accounts, which was money fleeced from the economy by many of the government leaders and criminal enterprises. The boys did lay claim to money paid to a couple of hired killers, who had been paid to kill some of those citizens that were trying to expose the corruption. Except, they only did so with the permission of the people who had been targets of those killers, after asking them first. That’s how we make the distinctions for what is allowed using Mind Tap. There are going to be gray areas, naturally. So sue me.”

She grinned back. “Nah. For the good of the human race, you’d pick my lawyer’s mind to find the case’s weaknesses. Let’s move on.”

“Good. I can tell you that we do intend to try to interdict whatever force the Empire sends to Tanner’s world. President Flacco was advised of the threat two days ago, before we reached Admiral Foxworthy. He’s recalled their local home guard members of the former Planetary Defense Force, and he’s opened the armory to check out the status of body armor, ladybugs, tanks, plasma rifles, mobile laser and plasma canons, including hundreds of heavy orbital defense lasers.”

“I can see the value of the orbital defense lasers, but do you and he think the Empire will actually try to land troops to take over the planet?”

“Adriana, I’ve not spoken to him yet, but my man that reported that the Empire had found this world did speak with him. After the explanation, and his speaking to some of the injured colonists that stayed behind here after leaving Zanzibar, he acted promptly. Turns out he was an officer in the PDF unit, and had faced Krall raiders. He’s experienced, and not willing to wait and see. I agree.”

“How many former soldiers can he field?”

“They had ten thousand at the height of the war, and I was told they suffered multiple raids by one or two clanships at a time, so many of them gained first hand combat experience. I don't know how many are going to be able to step back into service, but they were only disbanded two years ago. They would have predominately been young men and women, sent to the nearest PU Training Base for basic and advanced training. There will be a few older members, like Flacco himself, that were officers and NCO’s. Hard to say how many of those people are still available, but two years isn’t a long time. I’d anticipate a high rate of returns.”

“Do you have an estimate of the time before the Empire will mount an attack?”

“We posed that question to our two Thandol prisoners, both of which are officers, and one was the captain of the most gigantic warship you’ve ever seen. It makes a dreadnaught look like a light cruiser. They’re aboard the Mark by the way, if you and any of the cruiser crew want to go across to see them. Perhaps make Tri-Vid recordings as a record of what they look like. Our two Ragnar prisoners are also there, but they were low ranking systems technicians. They can’t offer much insight as to what the Empire or Ragnar will do next.

“The Thandol captain is a different matter. When we ask him how the Empire will react to their discovery of this human world, his thoughts are definite that his Emperor will send a massive naval force here to pound the planet from space. Oddly enough, it is more a case of personal imperial revenge, for our destruction of one of those giant ships at their capital of Wendal, which was the Emperor’s personal impressive interstellar transportation.

“That was their desire even before we tore hell out of orbital shipyards and repair docks, at a planet called Meglor. Obviously, the Emperor has a bit of a temper, and holds grudges.

“When we asked Captain Halder how soon a Thandol attack would be launched, his mind drifts through a series of complicated scenarios, some political in nature, of how they would need to conceal what they plan to do from their own allied security forces. They worry constantly about their three security force species combining in a revolt against them. They know it happened to the Olt’kitapi.

“It’s hard to say for certain, but that captain thinks the Thandol High Command might need a half year to plan and mount just a purely space borne attack. They would want it to be overwhelmingly devastating, and carefully considered. From my perspective, they tend to be overly meticulous in their planning. I’d strike as soon as possible. From our two prisoners, they clearly think the Empire can afford the time to plan carefully, and prefer to take the long view. They’re certain we have no clue as to how overwhelming the force will be that they can bring to bear.”

Bledso considered Mirikami’s time estimate. “If we have that much time, in five months we can have a truly potent joint force ready to hit and repel them. If it was next month, I’d say you Kobani would be on your own.”

****

“Marlene, we can’t leave the Kobani hanging, or the people of Tanner’s world.”

Bledso was trying to convince the President to resist explaining her decisions to a senate subcommittee, chaired by an LOR firebrand. “Under Executive Privilege you do not have to explain precautionary orders you give to the Secretary of the Navy, who you appointed. Not even to the actual Senate Armed Services Committee, let alone to this nosey LOR chaired subcommittee. As Commander in Chief, you can tell the navy to send a significant portion of First Fleet to the Rim area within a quick Jump of Tanner’s World, and you don’t have to explain why. If you do explain, our LOR opposition will go public to try to whip up an anti-war outcry to stop you. If we prevent the destruction of those cities and save millions of lives, you’ll be immune to what they have to say after the fact.”

“I know that. But in hindsight, I’ll also be seen as involving us in a new war without consulting Parliament.”

“The war is coming anyway, but stopping this attack might postpone it for a time. President Stanford issued similar orders to the navy in the first year of the Krall raids, before we knew it was going to lead to an all-out war. I commanded a squadron she ordered to protect and help evacuate Gribble’s Nook, all without consulting the Senate. Not only was it not a PU colony, it was a privately owned world, used for purposes of commercial exploitation. That was a controversial decision, but she had secret intelligence information about the Krall intentions that were not yet available to the public, or to the Senate, so she used her authority to send our much smaller navy to the Rim area where it would soon be needed.”

Strickland eventually accepted her VP’s advice, but continued to second-guess her decision. Yet, Bledso’s military background was why she’d chosen her for a running mate. To pull in the pro military votes, and to use her experience with the Kobani to counter the LOR’s criticism of the proposed rapprochement with them, and through them with the new Galactic Federation.

The president breathed a sigh of relief. “At least we have months of lead time for the army to finish cleaning out the last of the Krall stragglers on our colony worlds. I liked the proposal you made to General Nabarone, to pull out the first of his units on the same ships Foxworthy will send over near Tanner’s world. Henry’s promise that they’ll be his most combat experienced troops could provide ground reinforcements, should the Thandol unexpectedly decide to actually land troops and invade.”

Bledso patted her arm. “You’ll see, Marlene. Having our forces close by, ready to move when the Federation monitors detect enemy ships, we’ll be poised to save the day.”

****

Admiral Foxworthy had requested the meeting, and she got directly to the point. “Henry, I know where you get your information about this new alien threat. I’d also have to be a moron not to know that some of my enlisted people return from leaves taken at less than glamorous locations, seemingly more rundown than when they left, often mildly feverish, aching and listless for the first week or two back on duty. Then they become firebrands in their units, working harder than anyone else, suddenly earning higher performance ratings and recommendations for promotions from their superiors. Some qualified people with college degrees, when offered Officer Candidate School, refuse reluctantly.”

She pointed at him. “You are responsible, or at least your friends are, for their sudden performance improvements.”

He pretended confusion. “Catherine,how are my army doggies helping your navy swabbies? We’re more or less rivals, even if friendly and on the same side.” He smiled, knowing exactly where she was leading, and intended to let her go as far as she wanted. He wasn’t worried it would become antagonistic.

As an example of cross service cooperation, he’d just passed along some technical advice for minor ship modifications, which her engineering department was considering, skeptical to receive it from the army. He’d told her the Federation had encountered a hostile alien presence in an adjacent arm of the galaxy, and that they had attacked a number of Federation colony worlds and ships.

He told her of a new type of relatively short-range electromagnetic radiation weapon that had proven capable of penetrating into a ship, via leakage around open weapons ports, affecting its crew’s nervous system. He’d provided two technicians and an engineer, whom he said knew how to protect their ships from these leakages, using relatively simple and inexpensive methods.

Aware his smile revealed he knew what she was about to discuss, she charged ahead. “I know you have Kobani in your army ranks, particularly in the spec ops units. I also know the Kobani may have withdrawn from the Hub region, and probably from most New Colonies, but they pop up frequently out here on Rim worlds. In fact, they’re in the forces that fight the remaining Krall, and I help haul them around for you.

“Now, thanks to those Torki built hospital ships the Federation volunteered to loan us, with their advanced nanites, and med labs they bought from companies in Human Space, they heal and repair our wounded.” Next, she got to the meat of what she had to say.

“Within a separate ward inside those giant ships, there must be a section that offers gene mods to volunteers. They come out of those med labs in the first stages of becoming a Kobani.”

She watched him for a reaction. All he did was nod slightly, not denying her claim, which wasn’t voiced in the tone of an accusation. She did sound more accusing with her next words.

“Your Kobani friends are offering these illegal mods to a select few naval personnel. Why wasn’t I told?”

He held his hands out, palms up, and shrugged. “I don't think I have a responsibility, or even the right to inform you or anyone of an individual’s personal and private decisions. You did just acknowledge that these mods are offered to volunteers, didn’t you? I know that there are no military regulations forbidding an enlisted member of the PU Army, Navy, Marines, or Airforce, from accepting gene mods. Frankly, I don't think anybody thought of it after the Collapse three hundred years ago, when military units on each planet vanished, or were disbanded.” He didn’t think it was prudent to reveal Mirikami’s confidential discussion on this same subject with her Vice President, earlier today. Only a Comtap link could have told him that so quickly, and he wasn’t going to spill the beans.

He pointed out some facts. “Civil laws on gene mods were certainly enacted in the newly formed unified Hub government back then, but they were never specifically incorporated into military regulations when the branches were reestablished. They just revived the old regulations that had served the needs of Earth’s military services before the Collapse.” He shrugged again.

“PU civil laws address gene modifications, but those laws legally apply only to Hub world citizens. Rim citizens in the military can make their own decisions without legal ramifications. Except, for those that have accepted commissions in any PU military service, and swore loyalty oaths to the PU, which specifically subjects them to its civil laws.

“The naval personnel, who have been offered and accepted the mods, are all enlisted personnel. They have violated no military regulation, and if they’re a Hub citizen, they have a right to be discharged where they are, out here on the Rim. They’re safe from civil legal repercussions of their choices.”

Foxworthy shook her head. “Hell, Henry. I expected you to give me some song and dance routine. Possibly to deny everything.” She laughed. “Now I can’t use all that crap evidence I gathered to make you acutely uncomfortable, before I let you off the hook and admitted there really wasn’t a legal problem.”

He cocked one eyebrow. “Well, Catherine, are you going to use that new DNA test, to see if I’m a Kobani?” Using her first name, he was appealing to her as a friend.

The question shocked her. “Are you kidding? Either you are not, or you’re subject to a court martial. I didn’t know you knew the navy had such a test.”

He nodded. “I knew. And I’d rather you not use it on me. I like serving in the PU army.”

“OK. I understand, and I can assure you that I won’t order you tested. Although, I won’t promise not to be envious. I heard you were once an out of shape desk jockey.”

“Fair enough. I’m a man born and raised on a Rim world, as Poldark was before the Krall came, and I still possess that frame of mind and sense of independence. I was highly suspicious of PU government intentions before then. When the Kobani came to me on Poldark, after proving they could outfight the Krall, and requested training and weapons to do that, I was ready to help. Hell, I wanted to join them, but couldn’t. The medical technology to do that didn’t exist then. Not Mirikami, or any of the older generation was a Kobani in the physical sense, merely in spirit. They only had the lesser human clone mods.”

She was curious. “I didn’t know that. By the time I met him he was like he is now. How did that change?”

“It was Hub nanite technology for healing our war wounded that made it possible, and the genetic knowledge the scientists kidnapped and taken to Koban had.” He made a prediction, and provided a glimpse into a philosophy unexpected in a man normally so gruff, and comfortable with war.

“I’m confident that eventually the majority of the human race will be Kobani. Many of those alive today in the Hub might refuse the changes, for personal or religious reasons, but over enough time, the majority of people will find it to their advantage to receive the conversion. If we keep meeting aliens that consider it their right to kill or push other species around, humanity needs to be as prepared as possible to meet those threats.

“I believe we are obligated to offer our protection to species that are unable to protect themselves from the bullies in the galaxy. More importantly, we have to ensure that we never become a bully ourselves. I think the ability of a full Kobani to empathize with any person or species will prevent that.” To Foxworthy, these last words clearly demonstrated he identified himself as a Kobani.

She had not previously considered that he might have converted to become one of them, but knew he accepted them as good people, whom he trusted. She hadn’t met him face to face until well after the Krall had invaded Poldark, so she hadn’t seen him when he was an overweight administrator. Now, he was fit, and moved smoothly for a large man. Some of her navy predecessors had found his personality to be crude and abrasive, and that hadn’t entirely changed.

In a rush of hindsight, she realized he shared the same grace and economy of motion, with a sense of unusual strength, which she’d seen in Mirikami and a number of his people. And if Nabarone was what he called a full Kobani, he had Mind Tap. She’d heard that Admiral Mauss, a person she admired and respected, had become one.

Damn! She realized she wanted that too.

Nabarone guided the discussion back to the topic she had told him was the purpose of their meeting. It hadn’t been about Kobani conversions. It was about pulling his troops out of the dwindling fight, as the Krall were dug out of their last strongholds.

“I’ve already pulled my most effective troops out of the fighting on K1 and Bollovstic, to give them a break. It’s possible they’ll get involved if the Empire decides to invade Tanner’s world. Mirikami was told, by his sources inside the Empire, that their proxy fighters, the Ragnar in this case, are most often used in ground actions. Because this is to be a Thandol led punitive strike, they may not be used this time. I don't want to load my people onto your transports too soon, since being stuck on a troop ship for a month or two is boring and morale sapping.”

She nodded. “I’d considered that. I’m sending most of my cruisers early, to Dawson, the Rim colony ten light years from Tanner’s. It’s a pleasant place, I’m told, with natural leisure activities for crews with a month of leave, such as beaches, mountains, and ski slopes. There aren’t very many bars, or many other typical spaceport vices available, but to my mind, that’s a plus to have fewer drunken sailors to bail out of local jails.

“I sent an advance courier there to meet with their president, Shalane Gundarfem, who said the local economy would look forward to the surge of spending from thousands of navy personnel on leave. My troop carriers can stay here another month or two, until you feel the time is right to load them up and follow me to Dawson. If we have more wait time, they can take ground-side leave there as well, if that’s what you wish to do.”

“OK. I’ll start gathering the K1 troops I’ll send with you, and give them a bit of leave. I plan to use the same large island to gather them, where the Prada and Torki work on restoring damaged clanships for the Federation. That island was left relatively untouched by the Krall, because they didn’t particularly like being around Prada or Torki. It’s commercially undeveloped, of course, but there are beaches and a warm climate. The Prada have said they can turn out a few hundred small boat hulls, with tachyon trap powered motors in two days, at a low cost. I can ship fishing equipment, water skis, parasails, and other recreational gear from Poldark overnight. My units already have portable Smart Plastic housing that I can move there with them. Not glamorous, but not front line war either.”

She concurred. “I’ll land my transports for loading when you’re ready, and those crews can take leave with mine at the same time. My cruisers depart in a month for Dawson, and I may go with them. I’ll wait there and work on plans for coordinating with the Kobani fleet, at least until I receive word from Mirikami’s monitors that a Thandol fleet is inbound. It’s a short Jump to Tanner’s after I recall my people. I can Jump my combat units with about a day’s notice, to get them back from ground side.”

****

“Sire, the new departure target date you’ve set is ten cycles early. The eight Stranglers borrowed from security sector two won’t be here in time to swap the Finth crews with ours, and install the appropriate species adaptations. The smell in the crew quarters would be almost unbearable for several days after that anyway.”

Thond flipped a dangling left wrist and hand dismissively. “Those ships will have to follow us afterwards, unless that falgrat loving Thandol inspection team orders them to submit to a walk-through. If the Thandol commander doesn’t wish to inspect them, and with the Finth stink still inside they might not go inside, tell our crews to wear battle armor until those ships are cleaned of foul territorial scent marks.

“Regardless, we can’t hold to our original departure date, not with the inspection team arriving five cycles before that. A huge collection of ships in orbit would be impossible to explain. Particularly it’s warship ratio, comprised entirely of our ships, except for the Stranglers. Then there’s over five hundred loaded cargo ships, half belonging to alien species. Those captains would certainly complain to the Thandol about being commandeered by us. The inspectors would ask to see the mission planning, and then brief their High Command promptly. They, of course, don’t know what we’re doing, and would not approve if they did. We have to go early.”

“What if they arrive in a monitor ship, as such teams often do? To see if we appear to be hiding ship movements from them, which we certainly have been doing.”

“That’s another reason for the fleet to depart well before they arrive, when they’re out of detection range. We don’t have everything as ready as it should be, but with the surprise route we’re taking, the humans won’t see us coming. I don’t think they would be as gullible as the Thandol, who actually saw the two disguised human raids approaching Wendal and Meglor. We will avoid Federation monitors at the border at the same time we fool the Thandol monitors.”

Chapter 5: First Plans Change

“Holy shit! Where did they all come from?” Athena Christopoulos, captain of the Hermes, and commander of the hundred ships in the flotilla at Tanner’s world, suddenly found her ten squadrons engulfed in a swarm of one thousand Ravagers, a hundred enemy ships per squadron of ten.

None of the patrol boat AIs, monitoring for tachyon wakes coming across the remote Empire border, had warned them of the inbound enemy fleet. They simultaneously appeared without warning gamma ray bursts, of course. Only Kobani reaction speed gave most squadron members time to launch anti-ship missiles, and then execute preplanned micro Jumps. These were actions they had not expected to take for four months, at the earliest.

One ship in the squadron with the Hermes, the Farquhar, exploded from multiple missile hits an inexplicably long three seconds after the enemy arrived. It hadn’t launched missiles, maneuvered, or fired defensive lasers, and none of its crew made a Comtap call. Clearly, the Farquhar’s Bridge had been left unattended for those critical seconds. Station keeping on constant patrol was a boring job, and this attack struck far sooner than was predicted.

For a frantic couple of seconds, the scramble of similar exclamations of surprise and needless warnings from the other ten squadrons filled everyone’s Comtaps, before a sense of organization rapidly prevailed, and most ships had Jumped clear.

Not every squadron had fared as well as the one where Hermes was a member. After her own ship’s preprogrammed Jump, Christopoulos suffered the shock of learning that thirteen additional Kobani ships under her command died within two seconds of the enemy’s arrival.

Her one hundred Kobani ships, divided into ten squadrons with crisscrossing equatorial and polar orbits, deliberately using only the weaker original Krall stealth capability, discovered just how hazardous being “bait” could be.

A thousand Ravagers had rotated into Normal Space, one hundred of them surrounding each squadron of ten Kobani ships. The Ravagers AI’s fired five self-guided anti-ship missiles from each attacker, at the very instant their event horizons quietly vanished. The Ragnar damn well weren’t going to give these fast reacting human bastards the same ridiculously long warning they’d been forced to provide them on the previous ambush, at the Federation colony world named Zanzibar. All of these missiles had actual warheads, without the useless denial chip logic the Ragnar were ordered to test with unarmed missiles. The Thandol High Command had caused that fiasco, and not a single human ship died in the initial salvo.

The only misgiving Force Commander Thond had, was the enemy’s use of the same type of stealth his ships used, and not the superior version employed at the Zanzibar colony after the fight had started. In uncharacteristic caution, he only sent half of his Ravagers on the initial strike, just in case they needed to Jump away from a far greater fleet of better stealthed human ships, or he could send in that other thousand Ravagers to ambush a modest number of unseen human ships if they appeared. He held back all of his six hundred Shredders, a smaller lighter armed ship, better suited for fleet defense than the sort of slugging and slashing assault the Ravagers were designed to conduct.

Instead, most of the enemy ships demonstrated that nearly instantaneous AI level of reaction by firing back, before they quickly micro Jumped to what were clearly precomputed higher orbits. That it was a preplanned action this time was obvious, when they recovered in ten compact groups, but with fourteen members missing. At Zanzibar, they had scattered randomly, like insects from a kicked nest, proving they had no reaction plan in place, and hadn’t expected an attack. This time, there was another new aspect to their response. They emerged in the higher orbit without the revealing gamma rays that had made them better targets previously.

He may have killed fewer of them than he’d expected, but he lost only three of his Ravagers from their rapid return fire. His ships had also promptly launched dozens of smaller anti-missile defenses, and used a combination of decoys, ECM, and small counter missiles, as well as defensive laser and plasma fire. Three of his overeager captains had made their exits too close to their prey, and their defensive measures had too little time to be effective for them. Still, he’d traded fourteen of the enemy ships for three of his on the first strike this time. Now he needed to maintain or improve on that kill ratio.

The eighty-six surviving enemy ships had reappeared five thousand miles farther out from the planet, without the gamma ray splatters, so only active radar scans found them. They obviously had improved on their ship rotations from Tachyon Space, and the speed with which they had made that change gave Thond pause. At least his flagship’s sensors could still see their shimmery stealthed outlines, like those seen for his own ships, as viewed from his observational vantage point, located twenty thousand miles above the planet’s northern pole.

Then his distrust of how visible the enemy ships had been on their arrival was rewarded, if that was the appropriate term. In mere seconds, they all vanished from his view screen, which was fed by data from their electromagnetic sensor suite.

He growled at one sensor specialist, sitting at a nearby combat center console. “Sensors, did they Jump again?”

There was a moment’s pause as the operator checked a new screen, recently added to his station. “No, Sire. Mass detections show they remained close together after the Jumps, but when we lost sight of them on electromagnetics, mass detection shows they all started moving out of their new orbits, probably spreading out to avoid our possible follow on missile and plasma fire. These mass detectors are considerably less precise than our electromagnetic sensors, unless we get much closer.” He looked at the recently added Thandol built mass detector screen closely.

“Sire, they seem to be spreading out much wider, and multiple smaller masses are harder to follow manually. We don't have the Thandol mass tracker computers, only their sensors.”

After the attack on Meglor, Ragnar technicians learned from studying transmitted and preserved combat performance recordings, that prior to the Empire’s Trumpet’s first internal explosion, on the Crusher’s primary Bridge, they had fired Decoherence bombs at a nearby mass detection, which had produced no electromagnetic returns near those same coordinates.

Thond’s own analysts, applying his suspicion of a better stealthed human ship, thought there was evidence that the Thandol’s after-action analysis had missed. They thought it was a mass sensor glitch, or a reflection they had fired at, caused by the thousands of pieces of spinning debris from exploding docks and ships.

Thond thought it could have been an electromagnetically hidden human command ship. Which meant that a gravitational mass detector still might be able to locate them, although not as accurately, at long range. He wanted some of his ships equipped with such detectors, which the overlords never provided to the Ragnar, who were not given Decoherence bombs and launchers either. The Thandol didn’t share their most effective and proprietary weapons technology with their security forces.

Fortunately, every Thandol operated Smasher normally had high quality mass detectors installed, even if they didn’t have a Decoherence bomb launcher. As part of the species adaptation package, when a Smasher was loaned to one of their security forces, those modular detectors were removed, and the ship’s controls and console language markings were swapped out with custom panels for use by the Ragnar, Finth, or Thack Delos.

At Meglor, there had been many Thandol operated Smashers destroyed, with pieces sent pinwheeling away from the docks. Showing how helpful the Ragnar could be to their Empire overlords, Thond had sent Ragnar recovery teams to help gather up the dangerous large debris fragments filling space in chaotic orbits around Meglor. The master race hadn’t noticed that the Ragnar teams focused mainly on Smasher debris, and that not all of the scrap was returned for reprocessing. Now the Ragnar possessed a number of higher quality mass detectors, systems they had never found a need for, since they had no Decoherence bombs to launch anyway.

“Are there additional hidden ships present here?” The mass detectors didn’t work from Tachyon Space, and he’d only been in Normal Space for a short time. Until the human ships activated better stealth, after their micro Jumps, he’d not thought to ask for a mass detector report.

“No, Sire. The ships we first saw are now the only unseen masses indicated.”

“Good.” Then he made what would eventually prove to be a miscalculation, and ordered his ghosting ships to make their exits from Tachyon Space. He should have ordered constant monitoring of the total number of observed mass detections. Instead, a courier ship Jumped into Tachyon Space and transmitted his orders to the rest of the waiting fleet. Another three thousand six hundred and forty-one ships, of all types, promptly appeared over Tanner’s world. He was starting the invasion. A mere eighty-six enemy ships couldn’t do more than harass this size fleet.

****

Mirikami acted quickly. “Athena, I’ll order the nearest fleet elements, two flotillas like yours, to join you. They should be there within three hours from the closest two of our colonies, but that will only be two hundred more ships. We can have two thousand there in thirty hours, with some hurried preparations here at home.”

Mirikami knew he’d failed this flotilla leader and her captains. “I’m sorry that we let you down. We didn’t believe the Thandol were capable of reacting so quickly, a month instead of five months. Your lowered stealth level was for Empire scout ships to report back how weak we appeared, and our fully stealthed fleet was to be posted in-system when they arrived. They struck when we were actually as weak as we appeared. I’m sorry.”

“Tet, we wouldn’t have seen them coming anyway, even four months from now. They hit us without making tachyon wakes along our border with them. I checked repeatedly each day with the patrol boat AI’s. Unless the Empire found a new way to travel fast through Tachyon Space, without making any wakes, they didn’t come straight at Tanner’s from the heart of the Empire.” She offered her speculation.

“Sir, they took a page from our tactic at Meglor, and went around the border monitors to come in from another direction. There isn’t a single patrol boat posted in Human Space because the PU isn’t a threat to us. I think they came from the galactic core side of Human Space, across the gap between the Orion Spur and the Sagittarius Arm.”

Mirikami agreed with her on-site assessment. “They must have anticipated we’d watch for them at our common border. It only adds two or three days to the travel at T-cubed level. I should have thought of that. Even so, we wouldn’t have been ready, because according to reliable information the Thandol never conduct a major attack with so little planning time.”

“Tet, it may not be a Thandol operation. From our sensors reports there isn’t a single Smasher among the ships that attacked us. They were all Ravagers. A thousand of them, and they split them into ten groups, a hundred surrounding each of my squadrons. I lost fourteen crews. At least that’s how many ships haven’t reported. It’s only been a few minutes, but for us, that’s a long time. I want to hit back.”

“Athena, if you move to engage them, don’t risk being enveloped again, or take unnecessary risks. Even when the next two hundred ships arrive, you’ll still be hugely outnumbered. Although, I’m surprised they only sent the Ragnar with just a thousand ships. That’s not a lot for a planetary bombardment, considering all the resources they have available.”

“Well, they didn’t even pursue us when we Jumped up to 5K orbits. We dispersed of course, but instead of following us, they promptly started attacks on the major cities, using mostly plasma and laser cannon fire. Missiles would be largely ineffective if fired at the large cities from space, at least until the PDF’s space defense laser batteries are knocked out. The Krall raid defenses were already up and…” there was a midsentence pause.

“Damn, Tet!” It was a mental shout over the Comtap link.

“There must be thousands more of them. A swarm of ships has just emerged over and around Tanner’s world. Give me a second. My AI’s gathering data from squadrons on the other side of the planet…” Mirikami anxiously waited for her to send the bad news.

“So much for that small thousand ship ambush that puzzled you, Tet. Another three thousand six hundred forty-one ships popped out, and all we managed was to kill three Ravagers during the initial attack, and we lost fourteen.”

She offered her blunt opinion. “Reference the two thousand two hundred reinforcements, which you mentioned a minute ago? They don’t sound so damned massive to me now.”

“Right. We’ll have to send more; we already were preparing to do that, but not as quickly. About two thousand ships are gathered at Koban and Haven now, two thousand or so are spread out near our colonies, and some are being recalled from the Rim worlds, where they were hauling cargo. We need to get more of them home, to arm them with the new nova bombs, and Mind Tap the crews on their use.”

He asked for more details. “In addition to the Ravagers, how many Smashers did they bring, are there Stranglers, and did they send a Crusher?”

Christopoulos again checked with her AI, which had continued to gather specifics for the other ship’s sensors.

“Uh…, there was another thousand or so Ravagers, nearly six hundred smaller sized ships, which the AI says are called Shredders. However, we haven’t seen a single Smasher and no Crusher, but there are close to eighty of the Debilitater equipped Stranglers. There are eight long bodied new design ships, which have small craft attached to their outsides. Those small craft are separating as we watch. They’re about the size of space planes, such as our Shadows and the navy’s Starfires. The eight ships they came on must be carriers. We also see four hundred of some fat bodied ships with one flat side, and two angled ends, which reminds me of the PU’s troop ships. Those navy landers can carry foot soldiers and armored vehicles, unloading from a single forward ramp. If that’s what these are, they might have ramps at both ends, to offload faster. There are over five hundred of various designs and sizes of ships that stayed well out from the planet, and appear to be cargo vessels.”

She used her Comtap link to send Mirikami the mental images from her sensors screens.

“Hmm. Athena, I think this must be an entirely Ragnar conducted operation, there are no purely Thandol naval units there. The apes apparently can get their crap together much faster than the Thandol can. Those Stranglers with their Debilitaters are only useful near ground level, and like you, I think those fat bodied ships are troop carriers. They didn’t come for a smash and run raid of destruction as we were expecting, they plan to put boots on the ground and hold on. How many types of supply ships did you say?”

“It looks like my AI thinks five hundred twelve are cargo ships. There are ships of many mixed designs, which are the right size and shape to haul cargo. About half of them have a similar design and paint scheme, and the rest are very mixed styles, with different colored paint jobs. They apparently have Ravagers and Shredders as escorts.”

“OK. That clinches it as being an invasion, not a punitive raid. I’ll need to mobilize more than just crews for staffing the missile bays on our ships. We’ll need to put our own boots on the ground to help the small PDF contingent that Tanner’s has. Contact President Flacco, tell him what we know, and reassure him that Kobani forces are on the way, but they may need to hold out on the ground for several days before our troops can arrive.”

“Yes, Sir. What do I tell him about the help the PU navy promised us? Are they sending their heavy cruisers? And Nabarone’s troops?”

“Nabarone told me Foxworthy sent four hundred of her cruisers to Dawson, the Rim colony ten light years from you. But she isn’t authorized to send them into combat yet.

“I’ll send an emissary to Earth overnight, but the PU also expected to have months to get ready for this, and they can’t respond as quickly as we can. Not without Comtaps anyway. I’ll send some communications people for President Strickland and her VP, Bledso, to have available for instant discussions with us. I’ll get in contact with Nabarone, since he was in the process of pulling Kobani spec ops away from the last of the Krall fighting, and intended to load them on troop carriers to move them to Dawson. That was if the expected Thandol attack became an actual landing. It’s become a Ragnar landing instead.”

He sounded apologetic next, “It doesn’t look like those troops will get the month of leave time he promised to give them. I’ll let him tell Foxworthy the bad news. Her troop carriers are supposed to move his forces, and she won’t send them to Tanner’s, not in the face of the size enemy fleet she’ll face, unless our fleet arrives first, and Strickland says she should get involved in the fight.”

“Sir, I don’t want to sit here idle, not even for a few hours for the first reinforcements to arrive. We want to avenge the people we lost. We can do some damage right now. The probable troop ships, and that mixture of supply ships, all seem like vulnerable targets. I think we can ding their long-term plans better right now than after they land those ships, or think to move them to lower orbits where they can be better protected by the bulk of the Ravagers.”

“I agree, Athena. They’re your squadrons to command, use them wisely. Keep us informed, and watch your backsides.”

****

Grudfad was elated. “Commander Thond, the human ships fled when they saw how greatly they were outnumbered. They had no hidden ships nearby, which means the speed of organizing this fleet was your masterstroke, catching them completely unaware. They weren’t even fully stealthed from us.”

In truth, Thond too was pleased, but he wasn’t dismissing human resistance yet. “Their ships were heavily outnumbered the last time, yet they stayed to fight us, and did so effectively. Unless it takes an unusual amount of power to employ their nearly perfect stealth systems, I don't understand why they used the less effective level, which we can detect. We wouldn’t have been able to surround what we couldn’t see. That troubles me.”

He explained why. “It’s obvious they were not entirely unprepared for an attack against this planet. Have you seen the sensor report of the radar and laser network that was activated only after our attack started? All of their largest cities have a variety of sensor types tracking our ships as they pass over, and that tracking appears to be coordinated between them. They lock onto multiple ships in the lowest orbits, proving that our stealth isn’t fooling them. Powerful high frequency pulse radars follow a tracked ship for accurate positioning, and that lock-on continues between cities as the ship passes out of range of the first sensors, without any loss of pulse intensity, showing their tracking network never lost the target.

“They clearly have experienced attacks from orbit before on this world. There must be some sort of weapons system that can make use that data. I suspect it will be used to guide surface to orbit missiles, because plasma cannon bolts suffer from attenuation in the atmosphere, as do lasers if there are clouds. For missiles fired from the surface, we will have plenty of time to see them coming, and they can’t reach extremely high velocities until they leave the densest air. We’ll have time to knock them down.”

His suspicion about the purpose of the tracking network was confirmed, but it functioned in a more coordinated fashion than he’d expected, in a manner never used by any of their previous foes in the Empire. There were over a hundred large atmospheric aircraft sighted, climbing from multiple scattered airfields, which based on their wide and fixed wing designs, were assessed by Thond’s combat center to be craft that couldn’t climb high enough to directly attack ships in orbit. They couldn’t leave atmosphere, or carry powerful enough lasers or plasma cannons to be a serious threat to a low orbiting Ravager.

Suddenly, six hundred seventy-five extremely high-powered ground based laser batteries went online, from seventy-five fusion-powered units surrounding each of the nine major metropolitan complexes. They focused two or three dozen beams on individual Ravagers, through breaks in cloud cover all around the planet.

Simultaneously, the highflying aircraft each launched multiple midsized anti-ship missiles, which had been unseen from orbit, concealed as they were under the wings, and from bays suddenly opened in their fuselage. They were already above the densest atmosphere when launched, and accelerated rapidly. The missiles, emitting no radar signals of their own, as would equivalent sized Ragnar designs, displayed an uncanny ability to accelerate and track directly towards the same ships being attacked by the powerful lasers.

The seekers on the missiles were using the reflected laser illumination for some of their guidance. The beams constantly adjusted their aim as the targeted Ravagers maneuvered, rotating along their long axis to spread out the heat from beams scorching their hulls. The missiles also altered course, and achieved hyper-velocities as the atmosphere rapidly thinned.

The lesson was a stern one. Twenty-seven Ravagers were destroyed in a shocking few seconds of frantic, and ultimately futile evasion. If they quit rotating to improve steerage to avoid the rapidly closing missiles, at least ten to fifteen lasers, of the twenty or more seeking each of them, managed to find a cloud-clear path to combine and burn through some part of their hull. This allowed the ravening beams to damage interior structures, electronics, weapons ports, and the far more fragile crews, of course. Then, one or more missiles caught up to them anyway, as they resumed rotations, or turned the wrong direction, and even AI controlled laser and plasma cannon defenses couldn’t counter the combination of threats.

The Krall had taught humans that a multilayered planetary defense was essential. The Ravagers, firing energy weapons and missiles from low orbit, hadn’t penetrated atmosphere yet, to discover just how effective air turbulence tracking and unjammable low powered laser scanning could be, in guiding longer-flying atmospheric pursuit missiles to enemy ships.

The slower troop transports and supply ships might be the first to discover that two hundred of the nearly thousand objects orbiting Tanner’s world, particularly those in two and three hundred mile polar orbits, were not there for communications, navigation, or for weather monitoring. Those previously mothballed rail guns were waiting for unsuspecting, ships to draw close. Most Ragnar ships, including Ravagers, weren’t as sturdy or had as many redundant systems as did a Krall clanship. Nor could any Empire pilot execute the wild and violent maneuvers the Krall typically employed to avoid or escape defenses. The Kobani were the supreme masters of this tactic now, outfighting those Krall warriors in space or in atmospheric dogfights.

“Falgrat, falgrat, falgrat!” The string of obscenities from Thond was shocking. More for the number of them and for what prompted them than the frequent swear words the crusty, if not vulgar leader was noted for in his language.

“Force Lieutenant Grudfad, order all bombardment Ravagers to double their orbital height. Those falgrat sucking human droppings allowed us to initiate our bombardment, defending only with widely scattered medium powered lasers and plasma bolts initially, to lull us into becoming complacent. This pretense of weakness encouraged my captains to descend, to give the city defenders less reaction time to destroy our air to ground missiles. It was a deliberate tactic to draw us in closer.”

It had worked, and aside from the twenty-seven ships destroyed with nearly all aboard lost, it had cost Thond another eleven front-line Ravagers with significant hull damage, ships that would now only be able to support the invasion from a safer, less effective distance, and staying away from atmospheric drag. The losses were only two percent of the Ravager force he brought, but it followed another six percent in losses of their total Ravager class of ships, from the previous two confrontations at Zanzibar and Meglor. Those warships were the pride and backbone of Ragnar space combat capability.

The Federation, humans in particular, had inflicted those high losses of the most effective Ragnar warships in less than a single orbit of time. That was a higher number of ships lost than they had experienced over an expanse of five generations, enforcing punitive actions against subservient species, as ordered by the Emperor’s High Command.

Adapting to this enemy, Thond altered his original invasion plan on the fly. “Lieutenant, post the eleven damaged Ravagers up with the civilian supply ships to aid the Shredders in defending them, and release the fifty Ravager defenders they already had to form escorts for the troop ships. Send down the Pounders, one hundred ships in each of four units, to form assault groups, with the Stranglers divided between them. I’m changing their mission from capturing the two main spaceports at the largest cities. Those big cities have proven to be harder targets than expected, and we could suffer losses of Pounders trying to take those spaceports directly.

“I want to land our troops in four of the least defended areas near four smaller cities, landing within striking distance of them, and send them ahead to conduct a lightning advance with only the Pillagers. I see no sign they have armored units of their own to oppose our Pillagers. I’ve identified the four cities.” He sent coordinates to his Lieutenant, for relay to the four Ground Force commanders, whom he’d just designated to lead the new surface assaults.

He explained his reasoning. “Each mid-sized city I’ve selected has a smaller spaceport that we can use, and I believe we can overrun them faster from the ground. I want the external Hoths that were detached from the Spears to escort the infantry when they advance, with Ravagers providing fire support from orbit. Once the four groups are down, I want the ranking commander of each hundred-ship Pounder unit to operate independently, and secure those landing facilities as undamaged as possible. I want the Armored Force units to race their Pillagers towards their assigned targets at all possible speed, accompanied by Stranglers, leaving no time for the enemy to mount an effective ground defense.”

“Sire, as a career Space Force officer I’ve not received training on large scale ground assaults. What happens to the foot Ragoons that can’t keep up with the armored vehicles?”

Thond thumped his chest lightly in approval. “Valid question, Lieutenant. The foot Ragoons, even with powered body armor, won’t have fast transport unless they can take some away from the enemy. We couldn’t bring everything we wanted with us, so they’ll move into those smaller outlying towns to crush the civilian population and find what they need for transportation. They’ll be foot padders until they can capture suitable local transports, and then follow behind the lead Armored Force units. They need to do this quickly, because Pillagers that are unsupported by troops are more vulnerable to attack from the rear, sides, and from above, by a suitably equipped enemy.”

He amended his cautious sounding words. “I don't expect there to be an effective ground resistance here at first. Not one they can develop as quickly as we organized this invasion. There is no sign of space capable fighters as of yet, so our Hoths will own the skies.”

Grudfad grasped the strategy change. “When you have control of those smaller spaceports, and have destroyed their defensive laser batteries, the eight Spears can land and deploy the remainder of our Hoths. They can support our troops when you attack the larger cities.”

“Exactly. We have already encountered much stronger space defenses for these cities than ever encountered from worlds in the Empire, at least within our own security zone. I can’t speak for what the Finth or Thack Delos have faced in their sectors. Our recent experience in the Empire may not be representative of what we’ll face here. The Empire has been stable, with little expansion for generations, and it no longer has aggressive species that can conduct battles like this. Except for tightly controlled security forces like ours, of course.” He said the last with a bitter note in his voice.

“I suspect these defenses are the remnants of the Federation’s war with the Krall, and that fight may have ended only four or five orbits ago, perhaps longer if they pushed them back slowly before their final victory. I doubt if their war was a short one.”

“Sire, do you think this planet retained many active soldiers after the Krall were defeated? I don't think they would require many troops to set up their space defense batteries. Those large mobile laser cannons are mounted on tracked hulls, similar to the chassis of our Pillagers, and they could have been driven quickly to those pre-existing pads around the cities. Since they did that in advance of our arrival, I’d say you were correct that an attack was expected here, but not this soon. Our AI’s detected no sizable military bases, so there may not be many ground forces.”

Thond was dismissive. “Even if they have reserves to recall to active duty, I have two hundred thousand Ragoons in the army I brought. A Ragoon in powered armor, with a full weapons load, is a dangerous opponent. Transport of significantly more reinforcements if needed would be limited, with only four hundred Pounders to use. If we encounter that strong of a resistance here, I may have to send our Pounders home to Tantor, and bring another two hundred thousand Ragoons, plus their Pillagers. There are nearly a million more reserves on our own three worlds, and another million posted on ten Empire base worlds. My problem is that I can’t withdraw the Ragoons, Pounders, and their armored units and equipment from any Empire base, not without informing the High Command of why I need them. I don't intend to inform them of this attack until we’ve taken the planet. It’s hard to criticize success.”

Grudfad bobbed his body in assent then broached a subject of personal importance. “Force Commander, will you be joining your Ragoons, to remind them you were once one of them, and show them why you are called Bone Breaker?”

In truth, Force Lieutenant Commander Grudfad was far less interested in his superior perpetuating his outsized reputation as a very physical ground force warrior, than he was in becoming Acting Space Force Commander. Grudfad believed his future career depended on displaying his ability as a Space Force officer, something he believed he was better suited for than even Thond. His time spent in full command of the Space Force elements would elevate him above officers with whom he was competing, gaining in experience they couldn’t easily match.

Thond, his ego stroked by his second in command, observed the furry shivers of delight, visible on the hairy shoulders of the Bridge crew who had heard Grudfad’s question. He knew his Space Force Bridge crew loved his dual reputation as a bold and brave leader of both the Space Force, and of the Ground Forces. He was one of only three such dual command Ragnar leaders in at least the last thousand years, and the most recent examples were centuries dead.

“I do intend to see this enemy face to face. The human ships are too few to worry us, and they haven’t proven ready to fight us yet. Call Commander Hitok, of Pounder Group 1, and have him pull his own ship next to my flagship when we descend to meet him. Tell him I will join my old friend, Head Basher, and we’ll both show the young Ragoons how to intimidate an enemy.” He shivered his silver tipped fur, and thumped his chest twice before he rose to complete a formality.

“Lieutenant Force Commander Grudfad, I offer to transfer command of the Space Force fleet elements to you. Do you accept?”

Grudfad rose to face him. “I do, Force Commander Thond.” They brushed knuckles in a sort of fist bump, and a salute of acknowledgement, and the log would reflect the moment the combined command elements, Space Force and Ground Force, were divided. At least until Thond returned to his flagship.

****

“Athena, those suspected troop ships over on this side are all moving towards lower orbits. And my AI thinks they’re clustering into two groups.” That was a Comtap link from Ardan O’Brian, leader of her fourth squadron, presently on the far side of Tanner’s from Christopoulos’ ship Hermes.

“I see them doing the same on this side, Ardan, descending and clustering. If we both see two clusters forming, then I think they plan to establish four different landing areas. Standby.”

She too made a change on the fly of her plans, altering the stealthy maneuvers she’d directed her eighty-six ships to initiate. She used a group Comtap link to announce the modified plan. “All ships, you have new targets, so cease the infiltration of their supply ships. We’ll now target the large, fat looking black and tan colored ships starting to descend. Instead of the enemy waiting for the space bombardment to weaken ground defenses, I think they’re landing troops near a couple of cities, and out of range of the orbital lasers, to attack those defenses on the surface. Questions or comments, from Squadron leaders only.”

O’Brian, who had been first to observe the movement, had an additional observation. “Mam, the fifty Ravagers that were previously defending the supply ships are leaving them to join the troop ships, which makes sense to escort them down. It appears that only the lightly armed Shredders, and the eleven ravagers with damaged hulls will defend the supply ships. Can we attack both? Hitting the supplies as we descend?”

Checking her own sensor displays, she considered several factors. “I see what you mean Captain O’Brian. However, their willingness to allow us to threaten those ships suggests something to me. That they’re less precious to the Ragnar than the troop ships, and I doubt half of the supply ships are even crewed by Ragnar. There are at least ten widely different design types among the five hundred or so present, and a big difference in hull paint schemes and markings on even similar ship designs. They don’t look uniform or military, and half of them have little similarity to the coloration, hull and engine designs of the military ships we know are Ragnar built. I think they might belong to other species under Thandol control, and may have have been forced to participate and carry supplies for the Ragnar.”

O’Brian had at least one supporter for his idea. “Mam, this is Captain Hanover. Arden has a point. We can damage the supply ships without any loss of time as we pass by them, since the Shredders and just eleven replacement Ravagers can’t possibly knock out all of our missiles.”

Christopoulos had a better counter argument, and it didn’t depend just on her authority to make the decision. “There’s a possibility half the ships are crewed by subservient species to the Empire, and they might become future allies against the Thandol if we don’t cause them harm. Besides, unless you know how to blow them up quietly, we’ll be alerting the enemy we’re returning to the fight. Getting those first easy shots at the troop ships isn’t going to be nearly as safe for us if they realize we’re on the attack.

“The Ravagers used AI coordinated joint fire at Zanzibar, like we and the navy do, something the Krall never did. Every time one of our stealthed ships launched a missile or fired an energy beam, revealing our position, all of the nearest Ravagers fired close around where they were just seen. Our very first pass by these fat targets had better be our most destructive. Then we need to immediately micro Jump away, and plan our next attack.

“Our two hundred reinforcements are still close to two and a half hours away, so let’s not get overconfident. Any other questions or comments?”

There was none, so she dispensed with the tactic she’d intended to use for the attack just abandoned. That tactic involved careful positioning via Normal Space drives, getting between several nearby targets, waiting to shoot until everyone was in place. Unknowingly, she was avoiding the risk posed by the mass detectors she didn’t know the Ragnar had, which would reveal slow moving stealthed ships. As in every battle, luck played its part.

“I want everyone to set up two micro Jumps. The first one exits close to a specific troop ship, and please let your AI’s coordinate that to avoid duplication, and we’ll all Jump in at the same time. Fire your missiles and beams, and then immediately Jump to hell back to your previous orbit. Get your coordinates set, and wait for my signal to go…, in about two minutes.”

It was just under two minutes in coming. “When I say the word go, we all Jump. Ready…, Go!”

The Eighty-six Kobani ships exited within one or two miles of their selected targets, and all hell broke loose within the Ragnar fleet. An equivalent number of the fat bodied troop ships took a brief pounding from multiple missiles strikes, and were savagely raked with heavy lasers and powerful plasma bolts, all within a deadly two-second interval. Then, the invisible attackers were gone, before most of the escorting Ravagers, and badly out of position Shredders even returned fire. When they did fire, it passed through the points in space where the Kobani had just departed. The Shredders, in their classical disposition, were positioned around their fleet, to defend against missiles and diving attacks on the ships they defended. That was what less insane species did when they fought, not choosing to risk a fatal intersect and a powerful detonation, if they struck an enemy spacecraft. The Shredders didn’t fire into the volume they were protecting, because that risked friendlies, and that was where the enemy appeared.

The AI controlled energy beams from the more aggressive Ravagers, were able to touch only a couple of the human craft before they Jumped, but that was a matter of luck. The Kobani vessels had a high Normal Space velocity from their previous orbits for the two seconds they were firing. The miles-per-second velocity differential carried them rapidly away from their initial firing points, so the hits they suffered were random and isolated, and the two ships involved only suffered marred stealth coatings on one side.

It was vastly different for the enemy ships. Fifty-nine of the extremely heavily armored landers suffered one or two penetrating missile hits that made it past the Pounder’s own defenses or that of their escorts. Eight of them lost steerage for a short time and drifted, sixteen of them suffered up to five hits, causing secondary explosions internally, and they were lost. The troops and crews inside the surviving damaged ships were protected from the sudden vacuum, because Ragoons and ship crews alike wore sealed body armor on combat landings, a precaution against precisely this circumstance. All but three of the damaged landers were subsequently deemed capable of conducting an atmospheric entry, but only after some temporary repairs. A slower entry on a Normal Space drive was certainly possible, even with holes in their hulls, but not advised if under fire. They’d be easy targets for heavier atmospheric anti-ship missiles, and probably for some of the laser batteries if they didn’t stay away from the cities.

All of the Kobani ships returned to five thousand mile orbits, to observe their destructive effects. Christopoulos promptly made a radio call to Tanner’s Planetary Defense Center. “Colonel Gaffigan, this is Commander Christopoulos. Right about now might be a good time to activate those orbital rail guns. I assume you saw those four hundred big landing craft starting their descents. We just hit twenty percent of them in a flash raid that isn’t likely to work a second time.”

“Commander, I’m still getting reports on the damage you caused them. Hell, we can’t see you at all on our sensors, but I thought you were waiting for more help to arrive. I’m grateful for as many as you damaged or destroyed. But if even twenty-five of the four hundred got through, I think we’d be outnumbered. By asking returning war vets to fill out our ranks and using our spare suits, I only have ten thousand one hundred six armored personnel for the entire frigging planet. I sent a hundred to each of eight cities with laser defenses, but I kept most of them, ninety-three hundred, here at Ludlum, the capitol and largest city by far. I expect that to be a prime target.

“We’ll certainly activate the rail guns soon, but I doubt if they’ll be able to kill any of those big armored suckers. The enemy will go after them just as soon as they open up. So far they’ve ignored them, perhaps because they’ve never seen anything like them and don’t realize something so compact is a weapon. We’ll probably program them to go after the lighter Ravager escorts instead. Those will be trying to shoot down our heavy atmospheric missiles. The larger warheads definitely can bring down a lander. They killed tough clanships on Poldark, whenever one was able to catch them.”

“Colonel, I’m guessing there must be at least four hundred Ragnar soldiers on each lander, and I’d bet they brought armored vehicles with them. You’re facing at least a hundred sixty thousand in four groups if they can get down.”

“Commander, I don’t know how big a Ragnar ape-man is, but even if they’re the size of a Krall, I’d bet that five or six hundred could fit in one of those tubs. If they also have tanks aboard, then the lower number. They brought about two hundred thousand, and you killed perhaps fifteen thousand. With tanks, they could roll over us in a sort of blitzkrieg attack. Their men could then follow behind the armor. Or should I say their apes?” He chuckled sourly.

“Same old shit,” he complained. “Krall or apes. Too many too fast.” Gaffigan had fought the Krall on Poldark for two years, as an officer in the PU army. He’d faced bad odds before.

She reminded him of something he’d not experienced with the Krall. “I know you saw they brought those triangular Stranglers with them. Their Debilitaters will be devastating on your civilians if they can get close to the cities safely. What about your people in body armor? Our armor leaked, so we modified it to protect us better.”

“I guess we’ll find out. We used your people’s suggested do-it-yourself solution. We don’t have the Q-carbon deposition process to seal the joints, and couldn’t restore the damaged stealth coating anyway, not with the manufacturing equipment we have. We never built our own body armor.

“Instead, we have fine mesh copper screening, made into radiation proof long johns, booties, gloves, and partial facemasks. We converted an automated tarpaulin factory to produce the mesh as long as we had fine copper thread to feed it. We first made panels of aluminum mesh, but that proved too brittle, and it cracked at our joints when flexed even a few times. It’s the leaks at joints we need to prevent.”

Christopoulos was curious. “What the hell are long johns?”

“It’s cold weather whole body underwear. We have bad winters here, and those fabric undergarments are common outdoor recreation gear. We stitch copper mesh onto and over them, and add mesh covered gloves and socks. It makes an uncomfortable stiff garment, and some folks don’t even wear a uniform over them since copper transfers heat fast, and it gets warm in the suits. We kept the sheets of aluminum mesh we made, and use them on walls of shelters for groups of civilians, but there wasn’t time to make many of those Faraday cages. Anyway, sitting in a shielded room isn’t going to keep them from coming to get you, and we’re told we aren’t as susceptible to the Debilitater rays as you Kobani are.”

“Colonel, the pain induced is dependent on range and intensity. If unprotected and you catch a high dose narrow beam inside of three to five miles, you’ll probably die without shielding. We can’t let the transmission get within fifteen miles of our nervous systems. We now know we’ll have to help you drive off ground forces, not just those in space, like we originally thought. You need to focus on missiles and those heavy lasers knocking out the Stranglers, and your PDF troops somehow need to stop their tanks. Up here, I’ll go after what we can to reduce their pressure on your space defenses.

“Sir, I can tell you the PU army said they were sending troops, but I can’t say how quickly they can get here, or if the navy even has authorization to get involved and land them. They expected to have a few more months to bring them in. There are already two thousand Kobani ships coming, so we could probably make a hole in the Ragnar fleet large enough to get Nabarone’s landers on the ground, if they moved fast. If not, we can transfer his troops to our ships a couple of thousand at a time. If the PU isn’t committed yet, then it’s just you and us against their troops.”

“Combat tested PU troops would help us greatly. Do you know if they have anti-tank weapons with them? Probably not, because the Krall they’ve been mopping up no longer have operational Dragons. We don’t have many of those small Dragon poppers, because Krall raiders never used them here.”

“Sorry, I don’t know how they’re equipped, or if they’re even coming. This all happened too fast. When more of our fleet gathers, even without PU navy help, we should be able to keep the Ravagers and their Shredders occupied. That would deny the ground troops some of the support they’d have otherwise. Unless the Thandol sends in one of their massive fleets to help the Ragnar. All bets are off in that case.”

“Gee. You’re just a fountain of good news, aren’t you?”

“I do my best to cheer up you poor miserable ground pounders.”

“Misery loves company. Come on down and shoot something any time you’ve a mind to help.”

“I’ll take that under consideration. For now, whatever we kill in orbit can’t shoot at your butts down there. Good luck, Colonel.”

“Good hunting to you too, Commander.”

****

Thond, finally making his way to the Pounder’s Bridge, detouring around internal destruction, passing through an improvised internal airlock, he switched on his suit’s external speakers and offered a bit of friendly advice for his old combat companion.

“Krintar Hitok, you need to get our hairy asses down on the ground fast, at least if you expect to live to bash another head before these falgrats destroy all of your Pounders.”

Thond was shocked at how close this ship, Hitok’s command vessel, had come to being destroyed. His shuttle was still in the landing bay when fate delivered the unexpected attack at a brief, but key moment of vulnerability.

The close proximity of the Pounder to the flagship was all that had prevented their complete destruction. The flagship, obviously central for fleet operations, had data feeds to its AI from every warship in the fleet. The enemy’s exits from Tachyon Space went undetected without gamma ray bursts, and their superior stealth kept them that way, since the mass detectors were slower to spot them. At least until they launched missiles and fired energy beams. Detections of missile launches and beams firing at several nearby Pounders arrived at the flagship a half second before Hitok’s Pounder came under fire. It was just enough time, and a lucky break that the enemy ship coming after that particular lander was fractionally late starting its attack. The Pounder’s own AI normally controlled its automatic defenses, but they were on manual control while Thond’s shuttle approached. Live crews couldn’t match an AI’s response time, but in combat they also damn well wouldn’t shoot at the Force Commander’s incoming shuttle in error.

Three of five incoming missiles were destroyed by the flagship’s AI, with rapid response by its energy beams, and the two surviving missiles penetrated well away from the Bridge, engines, and fusion plants. The thick, high-density armor of a Pounder limited some of the external hull damage. However, the warhead blasts inside, after the hypervelocity missiles penetrated, was devastating to the troops nearby, even enclosed in their sealed body armor. Nearly one hundred of the five hundred Ragoons wouldn’t be joining the fight on the ground, and one of two Debilitater units mounted on a Pillager base lost its antenna, so it would serve only as a mobile medium power battle laser now.

Thond’s first act, even before leaving his shuttle, or knowing if the Pounder would survive the attack, was to link his memory assistant to the flagship AI for information. Next, he called Grudfad. “Lieutenant, I recommend you link the fleet data feed into your Combat Center back to every Ravager. They need that slight warning time to defend against any more such cloaked attacks. Your AI just informed me that this Pounder would likely have been destroyed if there had not been time for the flagship to intercept several missiles.”

“Yes, Sire.” Grudfad wasn’t about to remind FC Thond that Space Force responsibility had just been transferred to him. But he felt it necessary to point out a consequence of obeying Thond’s politely offered recommendation. “Won’t the high use of data transfer significantly occupy much of the flagship AI’s computation time, and limit data fed to our weapons center from our own sensors?” He wanted to demonstrate his grasp of the ships AI assisted defenses, and its limitations.

Thond wasn’t impressed. “Of course. Which is more important? The flagship or the rest of the fleet? Assign a couple of Ravagers as your escorts. I need to move out of this shuttle and join Hitok, Thond out.”

This was another lesson in experience and priorities for the Lieutenant Force Commander, now Acting Space Force Commander. Thond wanted him to realize his ship, and its commander, were subservient to the needs of the entire fleet he now commanded.

As Thond strode onto the Pounder’s bridge, the bulky body armor concealed his impressive silver tipped black fur. Nevertheless, a distinctive black and silver surface design, a default pattern programed into his stealth system, identified him to Hitok. Just as Hitok’s charcoal gray fur pattern on his armor, with a gruesome helmet top resembling a blood-spattered skull, identified him as Head Basher.

Hitok used his memory assistant to trigger his armor’s simulated fur shiver mode, turned to greet his friend and offered an apology. “Gimtal Thond, I welcome you to Pounder Group 1 old friend. I suppose I should add that I wish the meeting had been a little less warm. I’m sorry our reunion has started so badly.”

Triggering his armor’s shiver mode, Thond thumped his armored chest once in respect. “What fun is a battle if the enemy never does the unexpected, and offers no surprises?”

Offering one thump in reply, Hitok said, “This surprise nearly ended yours and my participation. When you traveled here from the shuttle bay, you must have seen where one of the two missiles broke through. My ship engineers say the hull damage will slow our atmosphere entry speed, but if we grant them a short time, they can weld two temporary metal sheets over the holes so we can descend at higher speed. They can make a longer lasting repair on the ground.”

Thond flipped his armored hand in a gesture of agreement. “I think that is an advisable precaution. I’m sure the humans have in place defenses they used against the Krall clanships that conducted raids. We need every advantage that speed can provide. Any of your other damaged ships should make similar repairs, if it doesn’t take too long.”

He was quick to amend his advice. “Although, I’m not telling you what to do with your group specifically, but as overall Force commander I’m going to order all group commanders to proceed as rapidly as possible with landings, to move towards their assigned cities and capture the spaceports. The way each of you accomplishes that is your responsibility. I provide the goals and my four Ground Force commanders, jointly or independently, decide how to achieve those goals.”

Hitok squatted briefly, indicating assent. “Therefore,” he said, “I’ll send in my undamaged Pounders first, to establish a perimeter and offload my armored units, while we conduct limited repairs on the damaged ships. My command ship will obviously be one that is delayed slightly. I lost three Pounders, with fourteen others too damaged to make an entry without repairs. I intend to conduct three waves of entries. Undamaged ships land immediately, a smaller wave will follow with this ship after a short interval for repair, and any that require longer repairs to follow as they can.”

“Krintar, how many landers do say you have to send in the first wave?”

“I have eighty-three undamaged ships, with forty-one thousand five hundred Ragoons total, and four armored vehicles per ship. I’ll have three hundred thirty-two Pillagers of various types that can form an Armored Force column to send ahead to the city that I’m assigned to capture. I don’t yet have the exact count of the types of armor that will be in the undamaged ships, but it will be varied. A mix of Debilitaters and medium lasers, heavy plasma cannon and light lasers, heavy lasers and a mortar, or my favorite, the large smooth bore self-guided enemy armor killers, or bunker busters, on the largest Pillager base. There are only four mobile command centers, one per Pounder Group, and mine wasn’t damaged in the attack. We agreed not to bring any personnel carriers because we expected to land at our primary targets, not travel overland to the spaceports. Now Our troops and armor will have to separate.”

Hitok wasn’t offering a criticism, since he had sided with Thond’s argument to leave those vehicles behind. They both had favored more troops and heavier armored firepower, instead of greater mobility for fewer Ragoons. He repeated an ancient Ragnar truism. “A plan of attack never lasts longer than the enemy’s different opinion.”

The Force Commander shivered the electronic fur pattern displayed on his left shoulder, to indicate a sort of shrug. “My initial plan didn’t last long today. Now I need to change the enemy’s opinion by what I do to adjust.”

****

“Henry, we need to adjust.” Mirikami announced. “Even without PU navy assistance, I think we have enough Kobani ships to drive off the Ragnar fleet, or severely hurt them if they refuse to abandon the invasion. But there isn’t enough radiation protected body armor in the entire Federation for everyone, and we don’t have armored vehicles or anti-armor weapons to drive the Ragnar off the planet. At least not before the Thandol could send part of just one of their three far larger fleets to drive us away.

“There are nearly a thousand rippers asking if they can go fight with us. Obviously, we can’t risk losing so many of them, not that so few of them would make that much of a difference in this case, against so many. Not until we have a viable defense against the Debilitaters. No one with a nervous system is immune to the radiation, but anyone from Koban is far more susceptible than are the PU regular army troops against that weapon. You saw the images from Zanzibar. Our people die, or become totally incapacitated at relatively low exposures to the radiation, compared to a Normal that is mildly affected. Tanner’s needs more help than your Kobani spec ops. We need regular PU army forces.”

Nabarone felt as if he was betraying his friend, his people, and himself. But his hands were tied. “Tet, I can’t send regular army men and women into a new war without the approval of President Strickland. I’ll live with the violation of my oath to the PU, to help preserve Koban and the Federation, but I can’t ask those troops to do so. I can’t even solicit volunteers, because they aren’t free to do that either. I’ve convinced Foxworthy to load my Kobani speck ops onto her troop carriers today, with the expectation that Strickland will have a Kobani Comtap link to relay deployment authorization before she needs to Jump.” He paused, sending a mental image of troops filing onto a PU transport, and equipment, including armored vehicles, being loaded into their equipment bays.

“As you can see, Tet, they’re wearing or carrying their Kobani body armor, but only about half of them have recently been to Koban or K1, to have their suits radiation proofed. We thought we had more time. Most of them will need the same sort of fine copper mesh that Tanner’s PDF forces are using. But I sure as hell don’t have any.”

Mirikami had the remedy. “Fortunately, that’s something I can have delivered in a half day, Henry. We started producing copper mesh several months ago, for use in shelters on Koban and Haven. We have hundreds of rolls, fifty feet long and ten feet wide, that we can send you. Your people would have to assemble their own protective covers from that, but there are templates loadable into a standard fabric and clothing cutter. It will use a body scanner to measure each trooper, and then a laser cuts the mesh sections for assembly in just minutes. They’ll have to hand stitch them onto a lightweight uniform, or something like long underwear. I understand it’s a thirty-minute task once the technique is shared by Mind Tap. The rolls will be there later today.”

“OK. But how many more people in protected suits can you send to join my nine thousand Kobani? I doubt the PDF already on Tanner’s can hold out for long, and the spec ops I can send aren’t nearly enough. I can give them shoulder fired anti-tank weapons from Poldark, and we have thousands of war surplus tri-barreled ladybugs parked in long rows there. I don’t know if the PDF troops on Tanner’s have any equipment like that for fighting armored vehicles.”

Mirikami agreed to pick up the equipment. “I’ll divert some of our ships to Poldark, if you’ll have people ready to drive two hundred of those ladybugs onto them. We can deliver them when our next wave of reinforcements reaches Tanner’s world.”

Then he had a sudden thought. “Hey! Won’t you get in hot water for stealing the ladybugs? Aren’t they army property?”

Nabarone snorted in derision. “Ain’t I a general in that army? I’ve recently decided, just seconds ago in fact, that I want my spec ops to conduct live fire exercises with mobile tri-barrel plasma guns. Besides, most of them were to be turned into scrap, before any of them could disappear and make their way into some black market weapons deal, sold to Rim world crime lords or a wannabe despot. Screw the paper pushers. Can’t you take more than a couple of hundred with you?”

“I doubt it. The lower holds on the next ships I send will be nearly filled with a single Shadow space plane in each of them. One per ship is all that fits with the portals closed for stealth. I’m sending all four hundred thirty-two that survived the war. Like your mothballed ladybugs, they’ve been parked on dome tarmacs at Koban and Haven, taking up room.

“Before you ask, I have to tell you it’s too late to put that equipment on the first ships I sent to Tanner’s. I promised to send two thousand more ships as soon as possible, and they Jumped twenty hours ago, so they’re only ten hours from arrival. When they get there tonight, twenty-two hundred of our fleet will be there with the original flotilla. The Shadows, ladybugs, and antitank weapons will go on the next thousand ships, and there are at least a thousand more ships scattered around Human Space and the Federation, which have to deliver passengers or unload cargo before coming home to arm up for a fight.

“I’m holding back five hundred ships here to guard Koban and Haven until the stragglers arrive, but we’re stripping the Federation bare right now, sending most of what we have for our own defense to Human Space. We’d better have as detrimental an impact on that invasion fleet as we expect, because we won’t have a chance at another first impression with the Empire.

“We have to convince the Thandol and Ragnar, if not to leave us completely alone, to at least tread cautiously and go slower. We need more time to prepare, and to convince the PU to fight alongside of us.”

Chapter 6: Maximum Engagement

Two hundred fresh Kobani ships arrived from the colony of Paradise, and the Prada home world of One Land, which was being resettled. As directed by Mirikami, they joined Athena Christopoulos’ command group, which was now too large to be called a flotilla. However, at two hundred eighty-six vessels, the group wasn’t nearly powerful enough to be called a fleet under the present circumstances. It couldn’t fully engage the Ragnar fleet, with its two thousand Ravagers and six hundred Shredders. In roughly twenty-five hours, they would be joined by two thousand more ships from Koban, and Thad Greeves would have overall command at that time.

Athena had been updating the two inbound groups in the fifteen minutes before their exit from Tachyon Space. She told them the latest events as they formed up around Tanner’s world, spread out to avoid presenting a concentrated target before they were ready to engage.

“Captains, the Ragnar’s actions reveal they can sense our presence even when stealthed, probably by our mass concentration, since we’ve detected no low frequency radio signals, which can weakly reveal us. This was an inadvertent revelation on their part, because I gathered my flotilla on one side of the planet, just before you made your exits; in order to leave you room to spread out more. The Ragnar shifted three hundred Ravagers to positions approximately below us, and they have just micro Jumped them more evenly around the planet in the last few minutes, after you appeared. They sensed your masses suddenly appearing. Bear that in mind before you think you can sneak in and sit undetected in their midst.”

“Commander, this is Cal Branson just in from One land, what are they up to right now? It looks like they’re about to land more troop ships.” He knew she was perfectly aware he’d led the flotilla that came from One Land, but this was a general open link, and not everyone in the link knew that.

“Cal, the second wave of Pounders are about to enter the upper atmosphere, and the orbital rail guns will go active at any time, with programing to focus mainly on their Ravager escorts, and to fire on the armored Pounders only if they are extremely close. There’s a chance they can hurt some of the damaged and hastily repaired troop ships, but the heavy explosive slugs are a greater threat to the more lightly armored Ravagers, and might even disable or destroy a Shredder. Planetary Turbulence control guided dozens of their heavy missiles towards the first wave of landers, which being undamaged came in fast, with Ravager escorts for cover. The PDF managed to bring down only four landers, and they didn’t use the Rail guns at all. They saved them for use on this next smaller wave. It looks like there will be sixty-three damaged landers making the attempt.”

Cal asked, “Are we going to be involved in discouraging them this time?”

Her answer was cheerful sounding. “I’m happy you asked, Cal old buddy. You bet your sweet ass we are. I just had my AI send all of your AIs the codes for your Identification Friend from Foe IFF systems, to make us immune from being targeted by PDF weapons. We’ll independently micro Jump to the edge of atmosphere and fire on the descending Pounders and their Ravager and Shredder protectors, while the rail guns blaze away at the same time. There’ll be more heavy missiles climbing up to intercept the landers in particular, and aircraft launched smaller anti-ship missiles. If we can keep the Ravagers busy dodging the combined attacks, they can’t take out as many missiles going after the landers. The Shredders tend to stay at the periphery of their fleet, as if they expect us to fire missiles from a distance, which they try to destroy. Or that we’ll charge in at them in a mass attack, instead of Jumping in among their closely packed ships on our own. It’s obvious they never faced an enemy like the Krall, and definitely not like us. The Empire must have had very orderly wars, from the generally non-hostile species they annexed.

“We’ll go in independently, when each of you feels ready. I’m Jumping twenty seconds after I stop talking. Remember, their AI’s coordinate their joint laser and plasma fire, so keep moving, spinning, and micro Jumping. They aren’t very good at navigating and fighting like that. Good luck.”

****

“Braslat!” Hitok cursed. “Thond, I thought your FLC said only another two hundred human ships had appeared? They fight like deranged garvals, and they’re everywhere, biting, clawing, and ripping at us. It’s like there are three times as many.”

“Yes,” Thond agreed. “The humans accept high risks of appearing inside another ship at every Jump, and they Jump often and everywhere. On the other hand’s knuckles, I ordered the escorting Ravagers to stay close to the landers to defend them, and they’re being hurt more often because they can’t leave them to maneuver freely. The Shredders, positioned at the edges of the fleet formations, are frequently unable to launch missiles or fire energy beams into our formations for fear of striking our own ships if they miss. We’ve never engaged an enemy as reckless as this.”

He also admitted to an error in his own judgement. “Those small satellites I foolishly ignored on our arrival are now firing thousands of explosive projectiles at Ravagers and Pounders alike, and they have killed five Shredders that attempted to defend Pounders. They completely ignored us on the first wave of landers.”

Hitok had a revelation. “I think they saved the railguns specifically for this second wave, because our damaged Pounders can only travel at half the usual velocity as they enter the upper atmosphere. Two of my group already lost their welded patches, and the ionic plasma of reentry widened the holes and reached inside, killing the Ragoons too near the openings. When the pilots slowed their descent, to reduce friction causing ionization, the large ground based missiles found them. They have us in a vicious trap, and it’s no safer to return to orbit now than it is to continue with the landings.”

“Commander.” An urgent call, from a sensor technician on the Pounder’s Bridge, demanded Hitok’s attention.

“Speak.”

“Two heavy missiles are tracking us, Sire. I’ve discharged decoys yet they somehow continue to follow us, our tail lasers are encountering highly reflective surfaces, and they alter course so frequently that our two rear firing plasma cannons have missed them three times. One or both of them will overtake us at our present speed, before we can reach the surface.”

One of their three Ravager escorts had fallen by the wayside a short time ago, destroyed by a combination of a string of rail gun projectiles into their Bridge, a damaging near miss of an aircraft launched anti-ship missile, and several plasma bolts from enemy spacecraft through open weapons ports, which had damaged the Normal Space drive. The Ravager had nosed over towards the surface of the planet, and started to tumble, streaming friction generated plasma behind them.

The other two escorting Ravagers had also suffered damage, but both were easily able to stay with the ship they were assigned to protect. This particular command Pounder had been assigned three Ravagers as escorts, two more than any other Pounder in Group 1 received, which marked it for greater Kobani attention. The Pounder was likely to be blasted from the sky within minutes from the multiple attacks, and the two massive warheads on the pursuing missiles were the greatest threats because of the Pounder’s slow entry.

Thond, having been provided an acceleration couch at a backup console, one configured as a communications position for him, used his access code to reach Acting Space Force Commander Grudfad through the flagship’s AI.

“Grudfad, Group 1’s command Pounder is about to be lost. If the Ravagers are unable to intercept the incoming missiles, I will order Commander Hitok to enter escape pods with his staff. I will remain with the ship. You will continue as Space Force Commander for the duration of combat here, and Commander Hitok will assume Ground Force command.”

He was clearly placing the preservation of the commander of a Ground Force group ahead of his own safety, and knew he was putting Grudfad in a tight spot. This was, of course, a recorded call. Failing to protect his superior, who had voluntarily exposed himself to greater risk wasn’t anything he would be disciplined for, but his future in the Space Force would stall at a level somewhere below his present acting position.

Grudfad, engrossed with how the overall fight was being waged, was forced to focus for a moment on one small aspect that he’d neglected. He instantly understood what was about happen. “Sire, I have a possible solution. Standby.”

He linked to the flagship AI, and authorized it to assume emergency control of the Pounder’s two escorting Ravagers, via their ship’s AIs, thus taking total control from both of the Captains and their crews. This was a step normally reserved for a functional craft with a dead or disabled command crew. He’d have to justify his actions later, but an inquiry would clear him of wrongdoing if what he did succeeded, and advanced the goal of the mission.

Suddenly, the two damaged but mostly operational Ravagers fell back from the command Pounder, turned nose on to the incoming missiles, firing their forward laser and plasma weaponry, and decelerated their reverse tracks via their Normal Space drives. That swiftly narrowed the gap with the enemy missiles. The ploy saved the Pounder, but sacrificed the two Ravagers and crews. Therefore, the commander of Group 1, and coincidentally the Force Commander, both survived. Grudfad knew he would now receive a positive recommendation from Thond, which would say he was a competent combat leader, with a willingness to do whatever was required to assure a mission’s chance of success.

Hitok, who in his own sealed armor was unaware of Thond’s communication, had never once considered using an escape pod, certainly not to leave his beloved Ragoons to die as he fled their destruction. It was unlikely that Thond or Grudfad would ever mention their conversation outside of a closed inquiry, if one were held. Thond had clearly said he was staying with the doomed ship, and intended to save the valuable life and skills of the experienced Ground Force Commander and his staff. But Grudfad knew that the Force Commander knew exactly what the result of his words would be. Therefore, Thond knew he would survive if Grudfad valued his future in the Space Force.

Hitok, when told the two Ravagers had been destroyed when they turned to fight a valiant defense on their behalf, complemented their crews for their presumed sacrifice. He mixed his words of praise with the bias of a Ground Force soldier’s terminology, for an action fought in space.

“Our brothers held fast and fought nobly against this unpredictable and brash enemy. None of the human ships have yet stood their ground this way and fought to the death, as our two brave escorts just did. The humans appear, launch a missile, fire a plasma bolt, and flee in a swift Jump. Then, appear on the other side of the same target, launch another missile, fire a laser. And then Jump to a far distant ship, to repeat their frantic hit and run attacks. Another enemy ship soon appears behind the target the first attacker just abandoned, and hits and runs again. They do this repeatedly. It isn’t a way I chose to fight.”

No, thought Thond, but it’s a way they can inflict considerable damage on an enemy that outnumbers them.

He reconsidered how this relatively small and weak looking species had defeated the hordes of large Krall warriors, which the Thandol had avoided meeting for so many millennia. Perhaps the humans adopted strange tactics when they were forced to win against great odds. After all, what was the purpose of a war, if not to win?

****

“Athena, your method of attack has proven to be a winner, so I’m all for staying with what works.” Greeves fleet was only minutes out from joining her. They’d been discussing the randomized Jumps and slashing attacks her small force been using for the last few hours.

“Thad, it wasn’t without casualties. I lost five more ships, and suffered eight with enough damage to their stealth that they can’t go in and mix it up with the apes.”

“But you told me you took out twenty-one of sixty three previously damaged Pounders, and thirty-one Ravagers in the process. That’s over ten thousand enemy soldiers that didn’t reach the ground alive, and eighty armored vehicles they won’t have.”

She still wasn’t happy with what she’d achieved. “It appears they still managed to deploy close to a hundred eighty thousand Ragoons, as they call their soldiers. And are now forming up four columns of their armor, each with about three hundred fifty to three hundred seventy units, depending on each group’s losses. Those have started advancing towards four cities, three of which have negligible ground defenses. They also have sent down at least several hundred space-capable atmospheric fighters in support, with hundreds more probably on the eight large carriers, which promptly Jumped out of harm’s way when we started our attacks. They’ll be back, if they capture spaceports where they can be based and maintained.”

“When we join you shortly, their space bombardment of the planet is going to end,” Greeves assured her, “because that part of the enemy fleet will be trying to stay alive. You’ve proven we’re better at this sort of fighting than they are. Shortly, the PDF forces will be able to focus mainly on the ground attack. I hope they can tackle those damned Stranglers, which will be advancing with their armor.”

“Colonel Gaffigan, who’s in charge of the PDF here, says they can repurpose some of their heavy lasers from orbital defense if we remove that pressure. They’ve lost about twenty percent of the three hundred batteries they had deployed at the four cities targeted for occupation. That must leave them with about two hundred forty potent heavy weapons to oppose the armored columns.”

Greeves was skeptical. “I saw the standard PU made laser batteries on Poldark. They don't have azimuth settings physically possible that can be set lower than forty-five degrees from vertical. That’s a limitation designed into their heavy steel gun mounts. A ninety-degree depression would be needed to fire at ground targets. That capability wasn’t provided for in orbital defense lasers, because long-range shots at spacecraft at such low angles are severely attenuated when passing through moisture laden and dust filled atmosphere, and seldom cause much damage. Unless these four cities all happen to sit in deep valleys, with the only roads into them passing over extremely high mountain passes, the enemy is going to be under those gun’s ability to aim low enough to hit them. I guess a Strangler might foolishly fly low over a city with those batteries, but only once. Approaching low, from a distance, the laser batteries can’t hit those low flying ships ether.” His voice sounded skeptical of Gaffigan saying he’d be repurposing any of the batteries.

“Hey, Thad, I’m just Gaffigan’s messenger speaking here. I’m no ground pounder, but that was once your bailiwick. At least before you grew into the famous Kobani admiral-like figure Admiral Foxworthy dubbed you at Poldark, when you went there to infect Krall equipment with Denial chips.” She knew he always reacted a bit defensively when teased about that brief rank.

It worked this time too. He sighed. “Like I told Foxworthy, I asked her to call me Colonel. I only learned space warfare strategy and techniques via Mind Tap. But as a militia infantry soldier on Poldark, we didn’t have laser batteries prior to the Krall war, so I was never involved with space defenses. Perhaps Gaffigan thought of something new to do with them. Frankly, I don't know what the hell he has in mind, but I hope it works.”

****

The PDF captain shouted from his truck at the woman supervising the construction crew. She was running one of the four crews from Morrisville; sent to do the urgent defensive position modifications the PDF said was needed.

“No. You aren’t done yet. Weld two additional support struts on the underside of the chassis. The battery falling back upright onto its tracks would be as damaging to it as falling over onto its side would be. The laser’s focal mirrors and gimbal mounts are only protected when secured for travel. When we unlock them for rotation and beam collimation, the chassis of the gun platform needs to be braced to stay canted at forty-five degrees. Tipping over and slamming to a sudden stop, in either direction, would damage the mirrors and their alignment motors. After that, the battery would be useless.”

The woman wasn’t giving in just yet to this added requirement. “But, Sir? We sure as hell aren’t staying out here when the fighting starts, because we don’t have body armor or guns like your troopers do. If you decide to drive these lasers to another firing spot, you’d have to cut off the underside support struts to set them gently upright with our crane. We’re not coming back out here under fire to do it for you.”

The officer shrugged. “Lady, if we can’t stop the apes from taking the city, we don’t have any place else to put them where they’d do any good. The Federation is supposed to keep the enemy ships in orbit from firing on the city. Besides, we’ll still have over half our lasers sitting upright, on the other side of Morrisville, to fire at orbital targets. The other three cities might try the same thing, provided they have favorable terrain. There are tank columns driving toward each of them. We don’t have many options for fighting mobile armored forces like this. The Krall didn’t use their small, one warrior Dragons in massive assaults this way.

“Anyway, Mam, I don't need you to agree with the decision. Just hurry up and do what I asked. That’s why you have the stacks of extra I-beams on that flatbed towed behind the derrick. There are four more pits assigned to your crew, so get them done before the enemy armor reaches firing range. The dozer is done digging the pits, and the derrick will go with you, to tilt the batteries over while you weld on the bracing. I need to check on the other work crews, so get a move on.” He drove off, to verify the rushed work of the other teams was proceeding without a similar glitch. He had fifteen mobile space defense batteries to turn into fixed ground defenses in a very short time. He hoped it would work

****

At the city of New Caledonia, the capitol city of a semi-mountainous mining region on Tanner’s, some of the orbital defense laser batteries were also being repurposed at the edge of the city. But the terrain there provided enemy armor more shelter than did the flat plains that surrounded Morrisville. An early slogan from the war with the Krall had been revived at New Caledonia, remembering how civilians on Gribble’s Nook had fought back with what they had available. Remember Gribble’s Nook and the history of that very first raid provided ideas for supplemental defenses, to counter what the protective ridges could offer to an advancing enemy in their massive armored units.

****

At Ashland, a city on a bluff at the end of a long lush and verdant valley, with a midsized and well controlled river meandering through it, had suitable highway approaches and bridges for the Ragnar armored column, where it could travel on roads placed on either side of the river. The roads periodically passed behind low ridges that followed the river valley, the terrain having been cut over millions of years by a formerly wilder waterway. This terrain offered shelter for the Pillagers from the orbital defense lasers around Ashland, most of which were higher than the valley approaches to the city. A few of the batteries, placed below the city’s bluffs, could be angled to provide firing angles down the valley. However, the off-road capability of the tracked Ragnar armor would be able to evade them. There was another defensive option, but it required evacuations, and years of lost productivity in this agricultural dependent region. It would entail sacrifice and expense, but the Thandol Empire, in the form of their Ragnar proxies, intended to exact that sacrifice and cost anyway. So why wait?

****

Fort Bradford was the home of the former training base and armory of Tanner’s wartime PDF troopers, and they were going to try a more traditional military response. Most of the recalled troopers were there, and they had nearly all of the planet’s anti-armor weaponry, which consisted of a few thousand hand-held rocket launcher tubes, nicknamed Dragon Killers, or DKs. Of course, it wasn’t known how well they would work against the various types of Ragnar tanks and tracked vehicles, since the short range rockets were specifically designed to blow the turrets off the smaller, white ceramic-coated Dragons.

The Ragnar appeared to use two types of base units for their heavy tracked armor. They were externally identical except for size, and were generically referred to as Pillagers. The largest was the massive eighty ton, thirty-five-foot length of the main battle tank hulls, and the smaller units were slightly over twenty-five feet long, at sixty tons. Each model held a crew of three of the large bodied Ragnar, normally in body armor. A commander, gunner, and a driver.

To face them, the PDF had fifty of the pitifully inadequate ladybugs, with their track driven two-man gun carriage, with rear tripod mounted tri-barreled plasma cannons. They also had ten heavy laser equipped troop transport shuttles, and a large storeroom full of a white elephant sort of weapon, which had never found a combat use against the Krall. The unproven weapons cache was a supply of magnetic limpet mines, for maritime targets.

The improbable weapons had been the bright idea of one poorly informed, but politically influential former merchant seaman on Tanner’s world. At the start of the Krall war, he’d suggested the enemy might decide to invade them by unopposed sea landings, far from shore. On a planet with a surface seventy-three percent covered by water, it sounded reasonable at the time to manufacture some of those mines. Reasonable only if you didn’t know the Krall disliked deep water, because their bodies were too dense to swim, and they enjoyed the thrill of blasting through space defenses before landing on their enemy’s doorstep. Nevertheless, there were uses for nearly anything, if you had imagination.

****

Group commander Sorvus Gontra rode at the head of Group 4’s Pillagers, his head protruding from the hatch at the top of the big gun turret. He’d used a bunker buster on the largest building in each of the four small towns they had passed through. There seemed to be one near the center of each of them, where the road split to arc around a less than impressive structure. It always seemed to be some local government center, with pointless tall columns in front of many of them. There were seldom any of the frightened residents visible. Lucky for them, since his instructions to the commander of every mechanized unit in the column was to shoot them on sight.

From time to time, he’d hear the sizzle crack of a heavy plasma bolt or the hum of a Debilitater’s transformer when a maximum power beam was fired well off to the side. The lasers were silent when fired, except for the thermal cracks of the heat-shattered structures they might strike. The pom-pom sound of the air defense units was heard less often, since they seldom depressed their twin barrels enough to hit nearby targets. Their fragmentation shells were hazardous if they exploded close to the double column of equipment. That was because helmetless heads of commanders and drivers were protruding from nearly every unit, relishing the smells and sights of this nearly treeless plain, where the main crops appeared to be various grains, which had a pleasant fragrance to the Ragnar.

There had not been a single hostile act against them thus far, after their landing, which accounted for the removed helmets. Most of the mechanized units held just three of the large Ragnar in their body armor. Only the gunners and technical specialists remained entirely inside, being required to use their helmet visors, and observe sensor screens at all times, monitoring what the sensors of their own unit detected, and scanning the data shared from the entire group. They were constantly alert for threats.

Possibly, the silence of the small communities was the product of the earlier passage of low altitude Stranglers, using wide beams to induce what was expected to be a fully disabling state for any human radiated, if not fatal for many. It certainly had put down their livestock, which initially laid kicking and squealing in pain, before falling silent when the beam passed close.

The column had been advancing rapidly for a quarter of a cycle, and this oddly exotic, flat and never-ending plain, appeared to be perfect for the assault Gontra had planned. It was terrain nothing like the typical jungles and low mountains of home. Here, he would be able to spread out his units to the flanks unimpeded, to advance in a formidable line, with a clear field of fire for each unit, approaching the outskirts of the city in a wide line when still far out. Their first task was to destroy the orbital defense batteries, which were located around the city, and then secure the modest spaceport.

He sent the two columns behind him off the perfectly straight paved roadway to either side. They spread to form a wide line, tearing through the fields of amber grain, which would soon yield to urban sprawl.

Accordingly, Gontra asked his gunner for the stored coordinates of a firing pad for a laser battery ahead of them, having it overlaid on his hand held viewer, which displayed the city’s image taken from orbit. He wanted the privilege of triggering the first shot, to destroy the first of those damned laser defenses. They had wreaked havoc with their fleet, and forced this alteration in their landing plans. Killing the first one would be gratifying in its symbolism.

The large triangular bottoms of twenty Stranglers were drifting overhead of his Pillagers, actually slightly behind the line of Gontra’s tanks, hovering lower and slower than normal, staying below the ability of the powerful laser batteries to depress and fire on them. At this short range there would be little attenuation of beams designed to be deadly against speeding orbital altitude targets. This close, the X-ray lasers could burn though a Strangler’s reinforced hull in under ten seconds. Although it took multiple such beams to seriously damage a speeding ship two or three hundred miles overhead, a single battery could focus its beam to carve most ships open quickly at short range.

Gontra sought the outline of the target he wanted to hit. The circular reticle centered on the image of a flat smooth square pad, where the large mechanized laser battery was parked. Except, the dark silhouette appeared lower than he expected, almost truncated and flat. Its vertically pointing black laser tube wasn’t seen in his long-range view. The overhead picture of the firing pad had been obtained a half-cycle ago from orbit, with the laser’s bore pointed up, a series of images captured by a camera on an orbiting Ravager as it passed over.

He pressed the bottom right corner of his viewer screen, and the Pillager’s turret rotated smoothly towards where the reticle had been placed on his targeting viewer. There was merely a hum of the electric motor, drowned out by the sound of the tracks on the pavement. The tube of his gun rose in elevation, preparing to fire a guided bunker buster the distance required, with constant course corrections if wind was a factor, or if the target started moving. A different tap, and he elevated his tank’s forward imager higher, which rose on a slender shaft, with a motion-stabilized mount at the top. The camera zoomed in on the firing pad he’d select as his target.

He was waiting to see the unmistakable silhouette of the heavy tracked chassis, and the tall laser tube of the battery to appear, prepared to tap the firing command when seen. He was aware that fifty other bunker buster gunners were doing the same, some on this same target, but most were aimed at other batteries, all waiting impatiently for him to fire first. There would be multiple hits on each firing pad on this side of the city.

On his command, the camera image zoomed in yet again, with some shaking until the focusing software stabilized the scene on his hand held viewer. His thick finger poised, he hesitated, confused by what he saw. Or rather, what he did not see. The smooth flat slab of the firing position was empty, and there was a dark flat object just beyond the slab. As they had charged towards the city, although his eyes couldn’t see the coherent and collimated X-ray laser beams directly, the atmospheric reaction when one was fired left a brief fuzzy visual trace of ionized air. Those traces, formed at various angles from vertical as the laser tubes followed a target, had been visible from a considerable distance as they approached. They saw them repeatedly, when the city’s defenses fired on Ravagers passing over. Far out on the plains, it wasn’t possible to determine from which side of the city they were being fired. A quick check of images from other units showed that all of the firing pads on this side of the city were bare.

He assumed they had driven the ones closest to his column away, to preserve them. He thought that only until he noticed that the flat dark shape on the other side of his designated firing pad was repeated behind every empty firing pad. They were flat on top, and had the same dark brown color of the soil the tank treads were tearing up in the fields of grain, seen behind the parallel tracks of Pillagers to either side of him. In a flash of insight, he realized that the low ridges were berms, made of the same type of rich dark soil.

The humans had placed the batteries in pits, behind the thick ferroconcrete firing pads, to conceal them longer from his tanks. Clever, but it wouldn’t save them. He could command guide his bunker buster to a spot above that pad, and set its detonation for precisely when it would pass overhead. As he started to enter the new commands, his line of tanks moving inexorably closer, he caught a slight movement at the top of the berm in his image. It was a dark circle, and it had suddenly lifted just high enough to be seen.

Too late, he recognized what he was seeing, however improbable it seemed. He rushed to jab his thick finger towards the firing spot at the image center. He never completed that action, it being impossible for him to move faster than the arrival of ravaging X-ray photons, emitted from that black circle, the business end of a laser tube aimed at him by that battery.

The beam vaporized Gontra, as well as a two-foot wide cylindrical hole through the turret of his tank, which included the barrel of his beloved big gun. The expanding, explosively vaporized material blasted the massive turret completely off, and left no trace of the organics inside the base unit, which an instant earlier had held a crew confident of victory.

Thirty-one other Ragnar armored units shared a similar fate, as the thirty-two orbital lasers, mounted on mechanized bases that were tipped to a forty-five-degree angle, were now able to fire horizontally over the flat and open plains, at the fully exposed enemy armor. There was nowhere for them to hide, so the Pillagers continued on, but now firing back, zigzagging to make themselves more difficult targets. The next laser blasts only killed fifteen of the enemy tanks, because seven of the laser batteries were disabled by detonations above them, from bunker busters fired from surviving units of that type. That left ten beams unaccounted for of the thirty-two batteries tipped part way over.

That was because not all of the beams stayed aimed so low. Ten batteries had elevated slightly, and a salvo of ravaging beams tore into half of the Stranglers, which were using their Normal Space drives to stay just above the line of tanks. In seconds, the beams ate through the slightly angled and leading corners of the ten ships being targeted and the deadly X-ray energy vaporized and burned through inner bulkheads and decking like cardboard. Any Ragnar bathed in even the reflected radiation was either scorched to death instantly, or doomed to die within minutes, their fur in flames.

The beams, with power enough in their second bank of rapid discharge capacitors to remain on for fifteen seconds, reached deeper into the ships, destroying equipment and drive engines. A Strangler, because of their missions at low altitude, moving slow and subject to damage from ground defenses, had reaction thrusters that kicked in automatically, to allow them to land, or even travel horizontally for some distance. They would have survived to be repaired, except when the beams cleared away the intervening bulkheads, they ate through the containment housings of at least one of the three fusion generators positioned near their centers, which were the true intended targets of the batteries. The loss of containment on even one of those released a sudden blast of stellar-like plasma at the heart of the Strangler, and it was doomed, suddenly falling out of the sky.

Then, ten other batteries, using their second bank of capacitors, repeated the act on the other ten Stranglers, which had belatedly reacted by starting to lift and turn away. Too slow for big ships in atmosphere, with so much inertia. Seven of the second ten also lost all power, and crashed with a thunderous series of ground shaking impacts and explosions, as they followed their brother Thandol made ships to destruction. The damaged three Stranglers limped away on their reaction thrusters, not targeted again because the remaining Pillagers were still closing with the line of twenty-five surviving batteries, placed at the outskirts of Morrisville.

As soon as the danger from the large bore bunker buster weapons was recognized by the PDF defenders, the remaining versions of those style tanks were quickly destroyed, removing the most dangerous threats from the line of advancing Ragnar tanks. They were leaving glowing and molten remnants to cool in the fields of burning wheat. The Pillagers equipped with plasma bolts and lasers had line of sight weapons, unable to hit the normally below ground batteries, which briefly exposed only their tubes when firing. The Debilitater equipped tanks had no effect on the remotely controlled batteries. The Ragnar anti-aircraft units were inaccurate at the longer horizontal range, and were low priority targets. The PDF troops controlling the laser batteries were stationed well clear, and wore copper mesh protection inside their body armor.

Hundreds of smoking wrecks, with Stranglers forming seventeen huge mounds, thoroughly demonstrated the fallacy of thinking the enemy couldn’t alter their own plans, after the Ragnar had changed theirs. Battles constantly evolve, and these Ragnar forces had previously faced only the less aggressive and less innovative subservient species within the Empire. This security force had grown complacent.

The ends of the laser tubes stayed well below the berms until target tracking predicted where the next shot should go. In less than a second the powered gimbaled mounts, which could track the motion of an orbital target, could raise and aim the tubes, fire, then lower them. There was no need to drain the huge capacitors to destroy a Pillager, as they had to do on the Stranglers. The two fusion bottles of each battery were busy recharging both capacitor banks constantly, but a Pillager had an insignificant mass compared to a warship. A few seconds of the X-ray lasers rendered them molten.

There were fewer enemy targets to seek the next time a battery fired. They had fired in coordinated salvos the first three times. After that, to avoid a predictable pattern, they changed to independent fire. There had been three hundred fifty-seven enemy mechanized units when they started, and eight to seven percent of them were destroyed with each volley.

The cycle rate of the defensive lasers, firing at what was only half power for them, for a shorter beam time, resulted in an X-ray beam generated every ninety seconds, as their fusion bottles pumped energy into their rapid discharge capacitors. They could fire more frequently initially, but after that, it was the rate of heat dissipation in the laser mirrors and tubes that held repeat beam generation to a minute and a half by a battery.

Once the Pillagers capable of firing the bunker busters had been destroyed, there were only a few additional batteries lost to shots by plasma bolts, which managed to hit their briefly exposed barrels.

Over the course of a twenty-mile advance, the Ragnar line would be better described as an extremely ragged line, with huge holes in the original force, where only forty-three units reached the visual shelter of structures in the business sections of the suburbs, where there were larger buildings than suburban homes to conceal them. The emphasis being on visual, not actual shelter.

The PDF troopers, not being dimwitted, and having faced Krall that sought similar shelter to continue their relentless attacks during raids, had prepared in advance.

It required sacrificing the sturdiest buildings, but where would the armored units logically go for shelter? The tanks had to avoid being seen and targeted by the X-ray lasers, which could not only burn right through them, but through the buildings that were hiding them. Their best chance was to flank them and get on the other side of the fixed line of lasers. They clearly were only able to fire out over the plains.

Conventional explosives had been planted at the corners of the largest, most substantial buildings. Places where the enemy would likely hide, in preparation for a quick dash to the next building to hide behind. They would pull up to a corner of a building, where a drone or surveillance camera could see them. The remotely detonated blasts often killed the crews from the shock wave, or the crater and falling debris would trap them there, where a mobile plasma cannon, or repeated plasma rifle fire could broil any living Ragnar inside.

A few tanks elected to stay motionless and hidden for too long, and an X-ray laser, using coordinates from drones, proved that a mere building shell was no protection. None of the enemy armor survived to reach the line of batteries, let alone the spaceport, which had been their goal.

****

Faldor Culpa was a first time Group commander, envious of the wide-open vista the more experienced Sorvus Gontra had secured for his armor’s swift and easy assault, granted to him based on seniority by time in rank, earning him the right to select second of the remaining target cities. Commander Hitok had exercised first choice, of course, and had shown combat wisdom by choosing a city where there appeared to be a small concentration of military units. His Group 1 would probably encounter actual enemy military forces, which would serve to enhance old Head Basher’s reputation. Thond, the Force Commander was with him, and he surely intended to break some bones today.

What urged him to greater, almost reckless speed was the thought that Sorvus would soon be securing his designated spaceport, while Culpa’s Group 3 would still be advancing along these winding valley roads. He needed to thread his three hundred sixty-two units in a double column along occasionally narrow valleys with steep, mineral and metal rich rocky ridges often looming above them. Even using what was obviously a four-lane road used for two-way traffic, Pillagers were large, and they maintained only two columns. From time to time, they passed through wider valleys, with what appeared to be homes well set back from the traffic, and small businesses were placed close to the road, with obvious parking for personal vehicles.

In fact, there soon were several cases of older looking, somewhat battered models of such personal transportation, which were pulled across all of the lanes of the road, parked two deep from side to side. At the first such roadblock on a straight stretch of highway, the two lead tanks, using Culpa’s big gun and the heavy laser of his column mate to his left, stayed well back and blasted them into smoking ruin. A brief inspection by a demolition team revealed there were no explosives that their hand held sensors recognized, or any sign of booby-traps. Even their fusion bottles were deactivated, which could have been a source of risk if one exploded very close. Another identical roadblock was encountered in a few miles.

The civilians here were simply trying to slow him down, to give them time to evacuate. After that, he barreled through or over two other such blockages, crushing the bodies of the cars nearly flat by the passage of repeated sixty to eighty ton tracked mechanized units, until the former obstacles had separated into thicker pieces that contained their motors or fusion bottles that powered them. Those hunks of thicker wreckage were soon bumped, and shoved to the shoulders of the road. Without slowing, Culpa simply smashed them aside at speed. He was in a hurry to match what his linked systems told him was Gontra’s progress, out on the plains half a planet away. He needed to move faster!

The modest spaceport, which it was his task to capture, was built on an artificial plateau, formed by shearing off the tops of several modest mountain peaks by mining them, extracting the minerals, and using the debris and tailings as fill in the valleys, to form a large enough flat space for a spaceport tarmac and terminal facilities. The city of Caledonia was a rambling affair, spread along three main intersecting larger valleys. Most of the orbital laser batteries here were placed on flattened places on ridge tops around the city, with winding roads leading up to them.

Culpa intended to bypass the batteries for now, driving the bulk of his column through the largest valley of the three-pronged city, to reach the spaceport’s plateau and take possession of his prize ahead of Gontra, who would have to pause to destroy the batteries there, before reaching the spaceport. Only after that would he dispatch three or four mechanized units to advance up the ridge roads to destroy or capture each of those mobile batteries. He wasn’t concerned that the mobile lasers would descend and elude his hunters, since the narrow and winding roadways to their firing pads precluded rapid travel, and they would have to descend cautiously to the wider valley roads, where he periodically left blocking units behind, to prevent their escape.

They passed multiple locations where ongoing mining operations were conducted, but they were all inactive today, their heavy equipment apparently parked out of sight. On reflection, Culpa had to admit that his eighty-six landers, located only a half cycle drive away from the only nearby city of consequence had obviously been noticed, and the people had fled. Another disadvantage this ridged terrain presented was that the twenty Strangler captains that accompanied his group hadn’t wanted to risk accidentally flying over a mobile defense battery, many of which were known to be concealed in valleys. The civilians here wouldn’t have yet experienced the pleasures of writhing in pain as their flesh felt like it was aflame, and their nerves put their muscles into uncontrollable spasms.

As was traditional for a Ground Force commander traveling with his Armored Force, Culpa was in the lead Pillager, one with the large smooth bore gun that made most Ragnar armored commanders feel powerful. It was in this capacity that he was the first to discover where some of the heavy mining equipment had been moved.

Rumbling around a bend in the roadway, following a course that orbital surveillance revealed was the most direct route to the spaceport, his driver brought the tank to a screaming scratching halt. This was followed by the instant reaction of the following units, which were electronically linked for the length of the long column.

There was a massive rock hauling truck blocking the right lane. In fact, there were dozens of them, bulldozers with massive wide front buckets, and two giant tracked boxy looking machines with a huge articulated arm and scoop, which had all been abandoned on the highway. They covered all of the paved surface and the narrow shoulders on each side, right up to the steep rock walls that had been cut to widen the highway.

His gunner traversed the big gun seeking a target, and Culpa pivoted the controls for the forward mounted lasers. However, there wasn’t anything threatening them. Except for the deliberate blockage of the road, of course. They could eventually blast their way through, and drag or push the smaller equipment out of their way. As large as the Ragnar mechanized armored units were, much of the mining equipment was larger, and it would seriously delay them if they had to clear the road.

“Sire,” his driver called up to him. “There’s a way around this blockage, at a turnoff we just passed.” His navigation computer had analyzed the surveillance photos, and highlighted an alternate route for them.

Culpa ducked down inside the turret to see the driver’s display screen. Noting which mechanized units were near the point where a secondary road branched off, he initiated a communications link with a senior officer, a Legion commander, who was closest to the junction, as indicated by an icon in his helmet’s visor display.

“Legion Commander Blas Forton, I have a scouting mission for you.”

The surprise was evident in Forton’s voice when he replied. “Ready Sire. What is my mission?” He didn’t know why the column had abruptly halted, other than it wasn’t because of an attack.

“The main road ahead of us has been blocked with massive mining equipment, at a narrow point in this valley. You will lead the twenty units in your Legion, and scout the roadway to your left. The orbital images show that route also will take us through the city, towards the spaceport. However, the images from a half cycle ago do not show if it has also been blocked with heavy mining equipment. I need you to be my eyes, and discover if the way is open. Leave now.”

“Yes, Sire.”

Next, Culpa requested a link with Acting Space Force Commander Grudfad, which wasn’t immediately granted by the Flagship’s AI, which had questions it had been directed to ask callers, to filter them by need and priority.

Grudfad, when he finally spoke, was quick to divert a request for support from orbit. “Group Commander, my AI reports the enemy has blocked your way, but has not attacked your Group 3. What do you need? My fleet is heavily engaged with a large enemy fleet, which made its exit a twentieth of a cycle ago. We are unable to provide bombardment support at this time, for you or the other three Ground forces.”

Culpa was startled by this revelation, since it hadn’t been shared, as far as he knew, with any of the ground forces. It didn’t change their mission in any way that he could see, but it suggested that their Space Force Commander wasn’t as in tune with Ground Forces as would have been Force Commander Thond. The latter never portrayed the elitism often projected by the Space Force elements towards Ground Forces.

Among the Thandol High Command, some thought too much money was spent on maintaining the Empire’s ground attack capability, that their three security forces deliberately wasted resources there, because they were denied larger space fleets. What angered the ground forces was the attitude that fleet power was the most important, and it found its way into the Ragnar fleet personnel as well. They looked down on their foot-padding brethren.

The Ground Force Ragoon foot-padders in turn had a derisive description for the Ragnools, who bore that generic name as members of the Space Force, and called them vacuum-suckers. The Ragoons also knew the average Ragnool wasn’t a physical match for the generally larger and fitter Ground Force members, who fought their opponents up close, where they could actually see them. It apparently was a species-wide cultural divide, because a similar attitude was found between the Finth and Thack Delos space and ground forces.

Because the Thandol so thoroughly dominated the other three space fleets in the Empire, they employed their designated security species exclusively for such surface actions. They did have their own ground forces, but they were predominately security escorts, honor guards, or for show in the socially prestigious Marching Army of the Emperor. The million marchers, when called upon, wore their splendid uniforms and carried oversized, lightweight replica weapons, on the occasions the Thandol wanted to display the thundering power that such heavy elephantine creatures, with four flat feet stomping in unison, could produce as they marched in wide ranks. A ceremonial march often happened as part of scheduled celebrations within Thandol society. Other, less frequent times, after a new species was annexed into the Empire, or if a less than subservient people needed a reminder after a revolt, of who was in charge.

In that respect, the Thandol had solved the apparently universal army-navy rivalry in each species, by not having a truly functional army to spark such rivalry. Some solutions were better than others were, and this one would eventually prove to be a poor one.

Today, Culpa was experiencing a bit of that sense of dismissal of his problems down here on the planet, but he hadn’t asked for fire support. All he wanted was current orbital observations. He could have dispatched his own drones, but he assumed what he needed was already available from the fleet.

“I appreciate your difficulty, Sire. I was seeking the most current orbital images of an alternate route that I’m having scouted. Sorry to have distracted you, Sire. My Ragoons can manage.”

“Very well, Commander.” And the link was cut. There was no doubt the flagship AI could have provided current surface images, since it received feeds from every combat ship in the fleet. However, Culpa wasn’t calling the AI again. He ordered drones aloft from designated recon units.

The Legion Commander delivered an early favorable report. “Sire, this secondary road isn’t as sturdy as the main road, or as wide, but we’re easily able to maintain a double column at a fast pace. There are numerous old looking and abandoned personal vehicles along the right side of the road, but they do not impede our progress. It appears the fleeing civilians knew we were advancing rapidly, and the evacuation route was perhaps too clogged to escape quickly enough in older battered vehicles.

“From ropes and ladders I see along the side of the steep ridge on our left, they climbed to the top to avoid becoming road kill if we drove over their flimsy transports.”

Culpa was pleased. “Excellent. The front third of the column will turn back and follow your trail, and the remainder of the column will then follow me. Legion Commander, you will remain in the lead until we reach the wider valley.”

The four-lane highway, where the Group Commander was about to reverse course, easily had room to turn around the thirty-five-foot length of his main battle tank Pillager hull, even with the additional five feet of his big smooth bore cannon pointed forward. He ordered all of the units of his front third of the column to reverse and turn onto the secondary road now, ahead of him, which would leave him about one third of the length of the full column behind Legion Commander Forton. Not the position of glory he’d maintained up to now, but he’d take the lead again after they left the narrow confines of the secondary roadway. That route would lead to a wider central valley, where the most developed part of the city lay. The narrow, claustrophobic valley they now followed was about double the length of the three hundred thirty-six units still with the main column, which stretched nearly two miles in length.

Culpa, when he entered the narrow cut to the adjacent valley, had feeds by then from several drones, to show him the way was open all the way to the end. The abandoned vehicles were an anomaly to him. He’d have expected them to leave them on the roadway to try to slow his advance again. Besides, if his Pillagers could drive two abreast here, then so could have a good portion of the mining equipment. Blocking both routes would have required him to clear one route or the other, guaranteeing a longer delay.

The abandoned personal transports were all parked to the right hand side of the road, close to a rock face on a narrow gravel shoulder. Considering they were fleeing towards the same wide valley that he was trying to reach, and they preferentially drove on the right side of the highways on this planet, parking on that side seemed logical. Although, they were more frequently clustered as he traveled along the middle part of the valley.

The farthest drone showed some moving vehicles were still exiting the far end of the valley at high speed, wisely fleeing his advance. As his tank rumbled by the parked cars, he saw the ladders, and what appeared to be dangling ropes on the opposite side rock face, and realized they must have been desperate to escape this confined valley. Yet, had they been more patient, obviously the road congestion eventually had cleared. It suggested panic to him.

He sent a drone over the top of the ridge to his left, looking for where those humans, now on foot, could have gone. There was a narrow single lane paved trail at the top, but there were only some abandoned trucks and piles of small mining equipment left all along the top. He flew one drone close, and saw that these were a mix of mechanical and laser drills. Not a surprise, considering this was a region of heavy mining, with signs of vertical groves on the ridge walls as evidence of how the valley walls had been widened, to accommodate the roads they built. Perhaps they had been working here on widening the road when the invasion began. However, he didn’t see where the people had gone.

His curiosity about the presumed ropes was deflected when he was called by Legion Commander Forton. “Sire, I have paused, because there is a tall wooden barrier placed in the road ahead of me. It’s more a sign of some sort than a wall, and seems flimsy. It has what appears to be a form of Thandol script painted on it, which I’ve seen before. The type of script they use to represent sounds they can make with their trunks, but it’s not the words of their normal writing, most of which I can read of course.”

“Does it block our progress? If it’s wood, it should be easy to blast out of the way.”

“Yes, Sire, but it is apparently a message from the humans, using Thandol phonetic script. The lead elements of your column following my Legion hasn’t caught up to us yet, so I halted to inquire if you understand this phonetic script. We can’t pronounce the sounds ourselves, of course, because that requires two trunks, but if it were read aloud by a Thandol, we would understand the basic words in Thandol. I think this is a message intended for us, and they don’t know the written words of our language.”

Culpa’s curiosity was now focused. “Of course I can't read that script either, but like you, I recognize it if seen. It’s usually used for new subservient species that can’t understand spoken Thandol, and an AI that knows the sounds intended by the script can sound out the notes of the spoken words in that species own language.”

“Yes, Sire. I think humans have left us a message, using that Thandol script. Do you think we need to hear it spoken?”

“Send me the image. I’ll ask the flagship AI to analyze the script and speak the words to us, in whatever language it is. If the phonics replicates a human language we won’t understand anyway, but if it’s spoken in Thandol, or even Ragnar, it may be comprehensible. Not that they could possibly know our own language.”

The transliteration to audio didn’t take long, and Culpa had it broadcast from his suit’s external speakers for the nearby tank crews to hear, and sent it to Forton, who did the same. The language they heard, despite the Group 3 commander’s expectation, was surprisingly understandable, sounding as if it were spoken by a Thandol. Except, that it was entirely in the Ragnar tongue, at least until three incomprehensible words at the end, which were presumably in the human language. Just prior to the final three human words, was a threatening phrase in Ragnar, which was abundantly clear.

****

Juanita Jansky, the newly minted PDF Lieutenant, and not a young woman, merely a promoted former sergeant, confirmed what they’d been hoping to hear from her PDF troopers, posted as forward observers. “The last of the riggers are off the ridge tops, and their trucks have just cleared Ridgeway Road on the north end. They’re completely clear now. If this stunt doesn’t work, we’d all better get our asses out of New Caledonia. This is the only place we can possibly keep them from tearing the city a new asshole.”

The four mining company supervisors, whose crews had cooperated on the work along Ridgeway Road, still sounded adamant that their impromptu proposal would work.

One of them pointed out the precedent, again. “This isn’t the first time ordinary people have done something like this, although not with tanks, since the Krall were on foot.”

Another of them had a question, a scar faced woman named Carly. After the hurried initial introductions and explanations, done a half day and an eternity of work ago, Jansky was surprised she remembered the name.

“Lieutenant, if they don’t stop at that wood barricade to read our sign, which the Kobani showed us how to make, what then?”

Jansky exaggerated her shrug, so it would be visible with her body enclosed in armor. “My troopers were told not to wait if they busted right on through. I’m just hoping we can get them all bunched in tighter, so the front and tail of that long column is between both choke points. The bastards dropped off twenty-six armored units along the way, and I don’t have any good ways of defeating them if those isolated units regroup. I hadn’t expected them to leave anyone behind them. We’ll know in a minute if we’ll have all of these in the main column bunched together and all of them stopped. If we can’t pin them here, we’ll Molotov as many as we can before they get out of this valley.”

“What about those big laser batteries you had tilted halfway over on their sides? Can’t they burn the ones they left behind or that get by us?”

“We only did that with six batteries placed in the three biggest valleys, and unless the enemy drives through the center of those valleys, we can’t hit them if they take alternate routes, such as the one we diverted them through this time. The main purpose of those tilted over batteries was to shoot down low flying Stranglers if they attacked the valley populations. The Ragnar held them back, apparently worried they might fly over some of them if we hid them between ridges. They surely want the ground attack to knock the lasers out first, so they can move in and zap anyone not protected by armor and wire mesh, like me and my hundred troopers. If we can stop these tanks, we’ll stop or slow down the Stranglers. At least long enough for the Kobani to break the hold the Ragnar fleet has on the planet.”

“Hey, the lead tank just halted a hundred feet from the sign.” One of the miners had been watching a screen in the improvised combat center, displaying one of the images available from prepositioned cameras on the ridge tops, or from some placed inside the parked cars.

“He’s looking at that big damn sign. Do you think he can read it? It looks like squiggly gibberish to me.”

The Lieutenant answered frankly. “I don't give a shit. The front of the column has stopped, and that will allow the break in the middle of the column to catch up to the twenty lead tanks. If we get the last tank beyond the rear chokepoint, we go hot.”

They had received a printed transcript of what was allegedly on the sign, their version written in Standard, naturally. That had been provided to them by one of the Kobani captains fighting the Ragnar fleet. Athena Christopoulos, via her ship’s AI, had relayed the text of the message in Standard, along with an image of exactly what the alien Thandol markings on the sign should look like.

They had used a home decorator bot to paint the sign’s background color white, and overlaid it with the supposedly decorative pattern of bizarre black squiggles, curves, and dots of the Thandol phonetic script, which the bot had used as its design. They hurriedly placed the finished sign on the road as the rigger crews finished their rough shallow bores, and completed their work. It was a hell of a job for only a half a day notice, and several riggers were hurt as they bypassed normal safety procedures. Their work, and those volunteers that had parked and positioned the cars on the side of the road, was what was important. The sign was an amusing afterthought, which might or might not produce some benefit. Knowing what it said had clearly boosted the spirits of those trying to save their city and world.

They placed the sign on the roadway at the end of the riggers work area, in the hope it would pause the advance of that armored column briefly. They wanted them to bunch up more tightly in the narrow confines of the canyon, where they had been hurriedly diverted.

There were very few defenses on the entire planet against the Ragnar’s massive mechanized armor, powered by fusion generators that gave them unlimited range. The Ragnar’s lack of experience with human ingenuity, and human ability to adapt, might only work for this first encounter. These weren’t Krall barbarians, who would repeatedly charge an enemy heedless of consequences.

An audio pickup on a camera mounted at the top of the twenty-foot high sign, detected amplified rough vocalization sounds and guttural grunts, originating from the lead armored unit. It actually seemed to be issuing from a chest speaker on the armor of the ape sticking out of a hatch, sitting on the turret of the largest tank. He had removed his helmet and was glaring at the sign, his mouth not moving, so he wasn’t speaking.

Based on previously recorded Ragnar speech, this untranslated message sounded like the Ragnar language to the human listeners, but it was pronounced with a distinct Thandol accent. As if spoken using their two flexible trunks, producing the Ragnar words. To Jansky and the others with her, who spoke only Standard, it seemed much like gibberish as did the written script on the sign.

Carla glanced down at a printed transcript of the same message, which was presumably being translated into spoken words for the apes. Only the three words at the end would be spoken in a replica of Standard. All of them were waiting to hear those words, and expecting some reaction. She read the text while it was being spoken in Ragnar.

We know you hate your Thandol masters, and they despise you. Your failure here will not be forgiven by them. Join with us to defeat them, or kiss your hairy butt goodbye. Remember Gribble’s Nook!

There was a prompt reaction from the lead tank. It lurched forward and fired its main gun as it did so, blowing the sign to smithereens. When it covered the short distance to the splintered remains, hundreds of remote detonators along the rock walls were triggered, just as the massive tank reached the intended choke point. A powerful string of explosions erupted along the middle of the ridge walls on both sides of the lead elements, bringing down tens of thousands of tons of rock on them, blocking the road ahead, and burying the entire twenty units of the leading Legion under ten to fifteen feet of rock, depending on how the walls crumbled onto them. Almost half of the Legion’s tanks had their Ragnar commanders still sitting on their turrets, the top hatches open when the blasts came. They were mowed down by fast moving heavy rock fragments sprayed from the sides. Legion Commander Forton barely had time to register what was happening, before a multi-ton boulder helped him lose interest.

The PDF troopers at the rear of the column watched the last of the tanks continue ahead for almost another ten seconds, before the linked reaction registered on the rear drivers that the forward units were suddenly slamming on their brakes as the gaps between units suddenly decreased. It was enough. The rear choke point charges repeated the blasts just unleashed at the front. More thousands of tons of rock buried the rear dozen tanks under mounds of rubble. Nearly two miles of armored might was now trapped in a narrow steep walled valley, unable to move in either direction.

Lieutenant Jansky was still faced with almost 290 functional tanks that were clear of debris, with eight or ten others that could be cleared of rock in short order. In fact, the laser-armed units promptly started sweeping their scorching beams along the ridge top edges on each side. Several more, with Debilitater antennas tilted well back, swept tightly focused beams of invisible radiation at ridge tops. She noted that this didn’t happen until the tanks positioned below a beam’s aiming point had buttoned up their hatches, and the crews who had been poking their heads out of hatches had hurriedly donned their helmets as they sealed their tanks.

She warned her troopers. “The Ragnar have shielding against the Debilitater radiation, probably for the hulls of the tanks as well as their own body armor. It makes sense, if you intend to use that weapon and risk collateral exposure of your own troops. I want you observers to stay back, and use the cameras to keep watch on them. I don't want any of you testing out our mesh suits just to see if it works. Shit is hard to scrape out of those copper undies. They’ll be using lethal power, with narrow focused beams.”

Then a different defensive measure was taken by the tanks with the largest smoothbore guns. They fired timed fragmentation rounds that burst once they were above the rims of the rock walls, and far enough from the edges that the fragments didn’t rain back into the canyon. They were trying to keep anyone from standing above, and firing down at them. Not that Jansky’s command, a hundred PDF troops with plasma rifles, were a serious threat to one of these heavily armored beasts. Unless, they could concentrate multiple rifles firing on individual tanks, of course, which the Ragnar tactic was making extremely risky and unlikely.

It was soon apparent that many of the big guns were concentrating their fire over the ridge tops at the front chokepoint. There were rounds fired from nearly a mile back, the rounds arcing over a gentle curve in the road, to add their suppressive fire to an area they couldn’t even see.

A remote camera inside the windscreen of a beat up old truck revealed why. The Ragnar had many of the forward tank crews moving around outside the safety of their units, but they had activated their stealth. Their suit stealth had fooled the simple commercial video cameras, so their emergence had gone unnoticed. Jansky still didn’t know how many were outside working. It was the material they were working with, which revealed their presence. Rocks. They were moving rocks.

At first, she thought they were trying to extract trapped crews of tanks covered by the lighter boulders. Only they weren’t removing all of the debris, merely using their powered armor to shift it, and shove the rubble towards the back end of the least buried units at the rear of those covered.

It was the falling rocks that she’d first spotted, and realized it wasn’t the natural settlement of the piles of rocks, or the buried tanks trying to pull free. The steadily increasing mounds of smaller rocks, immediately behind the last two partially covered tanks that provided the clue she needed. They were building a rock ramp over the backs of their buried units, and leveling out the piles on top as best they could of those fully covered. They intended to drive over them, when the ramp slope was long and gradual enough.

The notion she might find a way to talk to the Ragnar commander in charge here, to convince him into surrendering was no longer an option. Not if he had a way to extricate most of his armor and continue to the spaceport. An unpalatable and grizzly alternative was now the only remaining action available to her. It had been their secondary plan if they couldn’t trap the column here, a method to deliver as much damage as possible. The backup threat, used against a fast moving string of tanks, might not have been very effective.

With the column of tanks trapped, she hadn’t seen the need. But, needs change with the circumstances. She made a general broadcast, to dozens of people posted along and above Ridgeway Road, kept well back from the edges and under cover against the expected orbital attacks that never came.

“Attention, all of you cocktail makers. Pull out your remotes. The enemy is going to try to break out by making a ramp of rock debris over the forward tanks, and climb over them. We’ll need to use your Molotov’s after all, but wait for my command so we all act together. We can't to do this by eyeball as they drive by now, so keep the hell away from the edge of the ridge top, and stay safe. Report to me when you’re poised to go hot.”

That’s a fitting phrase, Jansky thought, as the eighty-two people, civilians and PDF combined, called to verify their remotes were active and linked to their receivers. Her own device, unclipped from her suit’s waist showed green when the transmitter linked to the receiver.

A glance at the four mining supervisors with her showed three of theirs were green and ready. Poor Carly looked crestfallen. Her remote’s light had stayed red, unable to link. She’d been a workhorse, nearly a slave driver to her riggers, working on the walls alongside them, pushing them to get their bores done in time to set their charges. She’d even provided her own truck for this part of the operation.

Jansky handed the woman her own remote. “You folks worked your asses off today, and a lot of you provided your own vehicles, as I know you did Mam. You deserve a personal shot at these assholes.”

The woman beamed, the scar on her cheek pulling at the side of her mouth. Jansky hadn’t asked why she’d not had it surgically corrected, but noticed a number of riggers seemed to bear scars of their explosives setting trade as badges of experience, or perhaps of courage. The woman accepted the remote gratefully. “Thanks. My ride’s a piece of shit, but it was paid for. I wish I could give it a big send off, but I parked too close to the sign. It must have been crushed by the rock fall.”

Jansky’s suit AI placed a number in the corner of her helmet visor, showing that seventy-nine of eighty-two receivers had responded to their controllers. It would do.

“OK, you bartenders, on the count of three, light up your cocktails.”

She counted up, and on three, the four people with her, and seventy-five others along two miles of the road, all pressed their thumb buttons. Being a half mile from the narrow valley, the orange flashes of flames and billows of black smoke were seen fractionally before the thunder of explosions came in a steady rumble, as the sounds of the more distant detonations took longer to reach the formerly abandoned explosives storage bunker, turned command center today.

****

Culpa had just ordered the first tank of the next Legion to test the handmade ramp of rocks, to climb over the trapped, but still alive crews of the unlucky Legion, their twenty units forming the base of that ramp. There would be some hurried work on the other side, to prepare a smoother descent ramp, but they would soon be out of this trap. He’d just heard about the fate of Group 4, and the death and humiliation of commander Gontra. At least he’d been lucky after all with his target assignment, and the flat plains hadn’t proven to be the easy avenue for an attack after all. He was about to escape the human’s trap here, and they hadn’t even fired a shot at him, proving how helpless they really were. He didn’t intend to leave a structure standing or a human breathing when he was finished with this city, after securing the spaceport, of course.

Only his head was sticking out of the turret hatch now, and he kept his helmet sealed. Culpa was impatient to see firsthand when the units ahead of him, reaching around a gentle curve, started to move forward again. He frequently glanced up at the ridge tops above him, and from time to time saw one of his surveillance drones, as it crossed over the narrow valley, scanning for enemy movement.

He happened to glance down at the battered human transportation vehicle next to him, parked against the rock wall. It appeared to have room for perhaps four to six of the smaller aliens, and the transparent windows were open, or had been removed. Not that there was room for more than one of the aliens inside now, as a driver. It held large rubbery containers on the seats, which his technicians told him were simple fuel containers, which held some sort of highly viscous petroleum product. These primitive morons apparently still used low energy dirty fossil fuels to operate their personal vehicles.

Although, now that he recalled his earlier actions concerning similar vehicles, most of those roadblock cars he’d driven over or smashed aside had each contained the dense chest sized armored steel housings, which appeared similar to many alien designs he’d seen of small fusion power units. Of course, those were made nearly indestructible, to hold the powerful magnets and plasma in a crush proof case. Not even the weight of a tank could rupture one of them, since if punctured when operating, they were explosively dangerous.

If the fossil fuel wasn’t for powering the beat up clunker, he wondered what it was used for. He couldn’t know this was material originally stockpiled for use against raids by a different alien species, and had absolutely no use as a fuel. It was too thick.

When a green light’s glow came from the dark interior, from below the rubber containers in the rear, he felt a sense of unease. There had been no signs of activity from any of the abandoned vehicles. The explanation soon arrived, although the human description of them as Molotov cocktail cars wouldn’t have meant anything to him, and he’d never heard of any petroleum product like napalm.

The flat sheet of the solid-state explosive under the containers on the rear seat detonated, rupturing them and igniting the highly combustible, sticky gelled substance, which spewed out of the open windows, and through the precut roof of the car as it easily blew off, coating the tank, its commander, and the units closest to him. The explosive sheet under the containers on the front seat had a detonator activated by heat, and seconds later, those containers contributed to the expanding inferno that engulfed six immobilized mechanized units in a sea of flames. There was some overlapping, as multiple simultaneous explosions along the length of column contributed to the conflagration, as seventy-nine contributors did their jobs. The three cars crushed under rocks held ruptured napalm containers, even if their detonators were dead. Flames eventually found their way to them, and they also added to the conflagration, spreading flames under the tanks buried near them, as the napalm grew more fluid as it was heated.

The Ragnar in stealthed armor instantly became visible, turning into large and rapidly moving bipedal living torches. Their suits protected them from the heat for a time, but the smoke and heat images of their surroundings, at visible and infrared frequencies, provided no clue as to what direction they might run to get clear of the flames. They needed to find a clear place where they could try to scrape off the burning sticky substance, which was gradually converting their suits into articulated broiler ovens as the cooling systems were overwhelmed.

It became quite toasty along Ridgeway Road, and that unpleasant odor would linger for months. The apes inside the buried tanks didn’t all broil to death, but weeks later, their decaying odor eked out through the cracks of the hatches they tried to open. Some even made it out of their bottom hatches at the start, but had nowhere to go when the heat reached them. Of those that stayed buttoned up under the rocks, with only the limited consumables of a mechanized army in a hurry, their support forces left behind on foot, they couldn’t last long.

****

Thond addressed his two remaining Ground Force commanders, Hitok standing next to him, but linked to the other. “Commander Jithal, yours and Commander Hitok’s Groups are now absolutely vital to the invasion. The Commanders of Groups 3 and 4 rushed too quickly into closing and engaging this new enemy. They and most of their armor have been lost, although their infantry is intact, but they will fight without the benefit of the firepower of the Pillagers we expected to provide them.

“I admit that we, and most surprisingly the cautious Thandol, have underestimated this species. We shouldn’t have done so, because they did defeat the Krall in an incredibly short amount of time. We attributed that victory entirely to their discovery and use of the Olt’kitapi genetic codes, to take away use of the weapons the Krall inherited. We thought they won only because they had disarmed their foe. While there is some evidence and a degree of accuracy in that belief, they have now proven that it is also their uncanny ability to improvise, to adapt and react quickly to an attack. They use whatever material is at hand as weapons in ways that surprise us, using tactics and aggression that we have not encountered from any of the subservient species in the Empire.”

Jithal sought another reason for their plans going awry. “Sire, what of your discovery that the humans your fleet fought at their colony are uniquely physically enhanced? Do we face those types of humans here on the ground? Is that how Group 3 and 4 were defeated?”

“No, there is no evidence of their presence on the surface, but they are clearly involved in the battle being conducted over our heads. The infantry forces that remained behind when our armor moved ahead, have found the humans they encountered to be stronger than expected. Not our physical equal in strength, but they do react faster. Considering their smaller size, yet unexpected strength, I believe they evolved on a higher gravity world than we did.

“As you surely feel here, the gravity of this world is about five percent higher than on Tantor, but it is probably less than their own home world. We must cease underestimating them, and we need to consolidate our forces.

“I have ordered the infantry of Groups 3 and 4 to consolidate the territory immediately around their landers, and be prepared to board them to join with your two groups when we’re able to protect the Pounders in flight. Group 3 also has a small force of twenty-six Pillagers that escaped, which I have ordered to rejoin their infantry units.

“Our Hoths are presently providing air support for the four infantry landings, and have shot down a number of human atmospheric craft that tried to draw close for attacks or reconnaissance. The enemy craft were not space capable, and are inferior to a Hoth both in speed, handling, weapons, and do not employ stealth. The Hoths, in stealth mode, are apparently not easily detectible electronically, but we’ve learned there is a system used here that detects atmospheric turbulence. It’s how they are able to send missiles after any fast moving ship. Our stealth isn’t perfect enough that going slow helps us much either.”

Hitok added, “Like Commander Jithal, I have slowed my rapid movement towards the city and spaceport you assigned me to capture. We both have dispatched a Legion of lighter Pillagers ahead of our columns, with recon drones to scout the terrain. We hope to identify unusual looking defensive positions along our possible routes, or signs of ambushes and traps.”

Jithal was in agreement with his counterpart. “Knowledge of laser batteries being placed in pits and tipped to the side, allowing them to fire vertically at orbital targets, but also shoot horizontally at Gontra’s Pillagers, would have saved his force. He would never have spread out his armor in an exposed line, to be destroyed like the clay targets of an apprentice Ragoon’s rifle training. Those batteries were fixed in place. He could have split his column in a wide pincher long before they were in range, and attacked from the flanks where they could not aim.”

Listening to them, Thond reached a decision. “It’s true we need either one of the two targeted spaceports for basing our Spears, and time is vital. The four hundred Hoths already here will soon run out of missiles. Their lasers and plasma bolts will soon only be able to provide you close fire support and aerial surveillance. I’m going to bring in our other four hundred eighty birds to help you push ahead more quickly. They will escort the least damaged Pounders of all four groups, as they move closer to your armor.”

Hitok was concerned by a risk he perceived. “The Spears will be vulnerable, and perhaps destroyed before they have time to launch all of their Hoths.”

“Yes. If they operated as they normally do.” Thond countered. “I will order each of our eight Spears to attach fifty of their internally carried Hoths outside of their hulls, the same way we brought the additional ones when they Jumped from home. The remaining ten Hoths will be poised at pre-opened launch bays.

“The humans are not the only ones that can Jump ships into a raging space battle. Configured as I propose, the Spears can launch every one of their birds quicker, just as they released the fifty externally attached Hoths they carried here. The Spears will Jump away the instant their Hoths are clear. If they exit just above atmosphere, two carriers over each of our landing forces, their birds will descend immediately, to join up with our landers and infantry.

“Your own Group 1 and 2 infantry forces will fly as low and quickly as possible in atmosphere, to travel the short distance to join up with your armored columns. The infantry with no armor to join will remain with their landers, using the Hoths for air cover, and wait for us to provide a secure escort for the longer flights for them to join with you both.

“Because the Ragoon’s need to keep pace with your armor, I’ve been informed that most of the units have already obtained a significant number of human trucks, equipped with long empty trailers that can carry them. Some of our overflow of troopers will stay inside them when they are driven onto the landers, and that way we can leave the most damaged Pounders sitting here they are, flying only the most effective ships. You can use their transportation to position infantry anywhere our enemy gathers to oppose you.

“We have to coordinate this carefully, but your Pillagers need that additional support, because our fleet is too heavily engaged in keeping the enemy ships from descending to attack you. You can’t afford to advance as recklessly as I first instructed you to do. And I can’t continue to underestimate the enemy’s adaptability.”

Chapter 7: Partial Disengagement

“I think the Ragnar overestimated how easy invading Tanner’s would be, they compared us to species within the Empire, and how few Federation citizens they and the Thandol found of us on our new colonies, which were nearly defenseless at the time. We humans, as our friends often remind us, are like wild and unruly children of the galaxy, and the new and growing Kobani branch is even worse.” Mirikami explained, with a grin. The second Kobani fleet was on its way to Tanner’s World, and he was sharing his thoughts with a varied audience.

“We know now, after receiving information from other previously well-traveled and intelligent alien species,” he nodded to the Prada, Torki, and Raspani representatives in the room, “that humanity is not at all like the typical, slowly evolving, cautious and gradually expanding space faring species they knew or heard about. We’ve since had reinforcement of that notion after meeting two species living in the Empire, the Hothor, and the remnants of the Olt’kitapi.

“The Hothor are more cosmopolitan than any of us here, despite restrictions placed on their travel by the Thandol. They trade with several nearby species, and through a web of multi-species hired help, employed by the Thandol on their various capitol worlds over millennia, they have learned what all of the empire’s twenty-six species are like.” He paused a moment.

“There once were at least eighteen species here in our relatively small spur off the Sagittarius Arm of the galaxy. That’s at least forty-four species, all of which spread slowly, over what we humans consider very long periods of time. Tens of thousands of years.

“To paraphrase an old human saying, the Olt’kitapi and Thandol were slow in expanding, but they were old! They explored and controlled sizable tracks of their local galactic regions, but they did that over many thousands of years.

“In contrast, we Humans have only been in space for a bit over five hundred of our years, or orbits, as many of you prefer to count, and we now control Human Space, and what was once the Krall conquered territories.”

He listed another smaller category within the known, and slowly spreading races. “There have been five particularly aggressive races like the Krall, Thandol, Ragnar, Finth, and Thack Delos, which are relatively rare, yet are still relatively slow expanding, slow to embrace changes. Had the Krall not had help, they would never have achieved spaceflight, and would have self-destructed. So only four aggressive, and slow evolving species, achieved interstellar travel.”

“I don’t wish to sound aggrandizing when I create a different category for humanity, or because I’m a Kobani human, perhaps I can’t help myself,” He smiled.

“Humans are both aggressive, fast evolving, and have rapidly expanded. Perhaps too much for our own good. We may have met our match with a long established empire, who wants to take us down.”

He had deliberately excluded rippers from his classifications, as a non-technological, but intelligent alien species, who had never traveled anywhere without humans, and had not shown a desire to expand or colonize.

“We humans are neither cautious or gradual, nor very peaceful, and we evolved on a world near the upper gravitational margins of where complex large land based life forms typically can arise. Worlds that exceed about 1.3 times Earth’s gravity is where the approximate energy boundary, or energy wall if you prefer, is encountered for complex advanced land based creatures. They need more energy to function at a high level than is readily available to them, and larger lifeforms rarely evolve out of water.

“If the planet lacks a massive molten iron core, with an internal magnetic field to protect life from damaging external radiation, from their sun or cosmic rays, then large complex land life doesn’t appear at all, for any gravity level, although sea life might grow large.” He held up a hand at what appeared to be a couple of objections forming from some of those in the conference room.

“Hold on, before you mention an obvious exception. As our geneticists and geologists have explained to us, Koban, at 1.52 times Earth’s gravity, is a far greater rarity than are other more massive-than-Earth analogues, such as Heavyside is, in Human Space. The increased presence of heavy elements in the entire Koban system, it’s richness in rare earths, made it possible for a different sort of early nervous system to evolve on that heavy terrestrial planet. You should note that superconducting nervous systems didn’t appear on smaller Haven, which has the same high ratio of heavy elements, because it wasn’t a required advantage for higher lifeforms evolving in that lighter gravity. The energy needs were less severe.

“Energy consumption requirements are greater for all of Koban’s lifeforms simply to move around, and obtaining that energy to survive made it a far more competitive place for evolution to solve those problems. Organic superconductor nerves were necessary to be able to handle the higher energy requirements of using powerful and faster muscles, and for fueling the quicker thinking, energy consuming minds of every complex animal on that high gravity planet. We Kobani have borrowed that capability, or stolen it, if you think that’s the more appropriate term. There was no way the Empire, or the Ragnar, could have expected that.

“That artificial evolutionary step, which we Kobani made, has placed us outside the physical capabilities of any similarly sized species the Empire has previously faced. For some reason, they discounted the lesson the Krall learned by being defeated by us. Normal humans were already giving the Krall a tougher fight than they expected.

“The original Earth variety of our species, even before some of us modified ourselves to become the Kobani racial branch, will present the Thandol Empire with a considerable challenge. The people of Tanner’s World are demonstrating that now to the Ragnar. The Kobani fleet is showing them how much harder it will become to defeat us, if we combine forces with the Planetary Union.”

Sarge, linked in from the Sneaky Bastard, hadn’t seen Mirikami’s restraining hand, and his question wasn’t about why humanity was so different anyway. “Tet, how do you think the Thandol built and controlled their long lasting empire? They’ve encountered at least three other aggressive species who they beat, and they now use them to do much of their fighting. I’ve met the four prisoners we brought with us, two Thandol and two Ragnar. Neither species evolved on worlds with even as much as Earth’s level of gravity. What made them more powerful than the other species in the empire?”

“Come on Sarge,” Mirikami chided him. “Aggressive and once dominant nations on Earth didn’t have soldiers with greater physical advantages over those they defeated in war. The will to fight, a well-trained trained army, good generals, and technological breakthroughs helped. Per the Ragnar prisoner’s stories, T-cubed travel was discovered by the Thandol first, and they used it to their advantage against less advanced opponents. Sometimes, good fortune determines which side wins the key battles, which then determines the victors in the war.”

Maggi chipped in with her opinion, since she had spent the most time with the prisoners. “The Thandol, Ragnar, and apparently the Finth and Thack Delos are not greatly stronger or faster than those species they are able to dominate. They’re certainly more aggressive than most species, and they developed high technology weapons, giving them an edge over unwarlike species. The Ragnar prisoners are convinced that it’s only because the Thandol discovered T-cubed Jump travel a thousand years before meeting them that the Thandol Empire prevailed and spread faster. They believe it would have become their empire but for that bit of good fortune for the Thandol.”

Blue Flower eater offered some of the now recovered Raspani history. “It’s also true that we and the Olt’kitapi discovered a few worlds with evidence of extinct aggressive species, who used their growing technology to destroy themselves in local wars, before spreading out of their home system to colonize. That is another common thread for many aggressive species, but not all.”

He looked around at the Kobani in the room. “It nearly happened to you humans before you left your home world, and once again after you had many colonies, with your Gene War. Had the Olt’kitapi not helped the Krall get off their home planet, they would have destroyed themselves there. We unaggressive species would undoubtedly be considerably safer without aggressive types like yours around.”

He furrowed his forehead in a vertical Raspani smile, and pinched in his elbows in a sort of shrug. “That does not mean we are not most grateful to have you, the most irrational and dangerous species any of us have encountered, as our neighbors and allies. More than that, having you as our friends. I twitch my knees with dread, to think that had we somehow avoided the Krall disaster, there were at least four other warlike species within easy distance of us, at T-cubed speeds, living in the Sagittarius Arm. The fledgling and ambitious Galactic Federation, which you Kobani have enabled us to form, is the only protection we have from an unknown number of hostile races, sprinkled throughout a large galaxy.”

Mirikami smiled. “Well, don’t count our victories before they’re won. Although, it appears from Thad’s reports from Tanner’s, that they have stalled the Ragnar fleet’s bombardment, and would wear them down in a couple of weeks, forcing them to withdraw if they didn’t have forces already on the ground. It isn’t certain if the four independent ground forces would be able to withdraw with them, because they had a tough enough time landing, and a worse time after that. Two of the landings have had their tank forces severely degraded. Assuming the mild sounding term degraded describes the near annihilation of two of their armored columns. As I said, even ordinary humans are bad asses.” He smiled and shrugged.

“I wasn’t surprised their fleet stayed to fight, when they surely detected Thad’s inbound force, with our ships being roughly equivalent in numbers and weaponry to their Ravagers. Counting those six hundred smaller ships they call Shredders, they outnumbered his combined fleet. I’m sure they expected to win the space battle, or hold him at bay while the ground invasion took the first cities.

“When the advance tachyon wave of this group of two thousand ships registers on their detectors, about twenty minutes before we arrive, they may elect to withdraw. I had us all stay clustered close together, to increase the intensity of the advanced tachyon wave front, just so they would know we were coming. I’d prefer it if they did pull out, with tails between their legs…”

There was very short pause, and he quickly added, “Yes, Sarge, I know the apes don’t have tails. It’s a metaphor. I’ll have one of the kids explain what that is for you.” He grinned wickedly at Maggi, who nodded her approval as he turned the discussion over to her.

“Maggi has some observations about the relationship between the Ragnar and Thandol, and how we might use that to our long-term advantage.”

“Thanks, dear.” And she began.

“After extensive Mind Taps with the pair of prisoners from each species, there’s no doubt that they don’t like one another, and the Ragnar retain the hope that one day they’ll be out from under the repressive footpads of the Thandol.

“With the assistance of an AI, and several Mind Tap volunteers, we have created an early translation between Standard and Fotrol, which is what the Ragnar named their native tongue, but which we’ll simply call the Ragnar language. Like humanity now, they only speak one. I can understand it fairly well, and even speak it if necessary, although very poorly, and my chest thumps can hardly be heard, and we don’t have a hairy body for visual displays.

“Fortunately, with a software translation loaded into our Comtaps or other electronic enhancements, and a voice synthesizer, we won’t need to struggle to try to speak the language. I’ll be sharing that database with everyone, and furnish updates as we learn more.

“We’ve also refined the far more complex Thandol language, to build on the translation that we received from the Olt’kitapi, via their Dismantler ship records. We know more about their different grammar modes now, but a human will never be a speaker of their trumpeting language, any more than I can pronounce Torki claw clicks and carapace scrapes and scratches. I’ll leave most of the translation to our software.”

She shifted away from the mechanics of communication, to what contact telepathy told her how the two species think, and what they really want. “The Thandol are fearful of losing control of their extensive empire, and they have restrained the naval capability of their three security forces, to retain an overwhelming superiority in space warfare capability. Their paranoia caused them to build a vast monitoring system for detecting space travel, which they claim was aimed at detecting commerce that was attempting to avoid taxes. It’s done more to detect potential revolts developing within their security species, and to watch for any cooperative effort between them to combine their forces against the Thandol.

“The Ragnar would eagerly revolt against them, exactly as the Thandol fear they might, if they could do so with a chance of success. The Ragnar believe the other security forces would do so as well. However, they have no reason to trust each another. If one of them colluded with one of the other species, they might be betrayed to the Thandol, and lose their privileged place in the Empire. In addition, they know their home and colony worlds would be savagely attacked by Thandol fleets. Then, the species that betrayed them to the masters would benefit from their loss. Paranoia also holds the security forces in check.”

She rubbed her hands together, and displayed her best pixie smile. “I think we can take advantage of this mutual paranoia, if we can secretly bring representatives of the security forces together, and via shared Mind Taps, show them a means by which mutual trust between one another can be guaranteed. That action, combined with our genuine disinterest in possessing the Empire’s resources, might help spark a triple revolt. As we all have learned, rippers are considerably less influenced by human…,” she paused a moment for the right words.

“Shall I call it our mental flexibility? They don’t embellish or lie, although they will withhold what they decide not to share. You all know the two we brought with us, Kobalt and Kit, who are the most experienced with mental contact with another species, and are fluent in Standard.

“Another unique thing is that they were the first rippers to ask the Raspani and Torki to design and embed a Comtap, like we Kobani have. For clear differentiation in our thoughts and writings, they will now be described as Komtaps, spelled with a K in Standard, which sounds the same anyway. They already have the databases uploaded of every language we have translations for, which means all of yours, the Olt’kitapi, and now includes the two new ones from the Empire, for the Thandol and Ragnar. Every species we’ve encountered so far can enjoy the same blunt, truthful, and sometimes unflattering words, which we Kobani have been receiving from rippers for decades.”

That caused a ripple of species unique expressions of humor to spread around the room. The lip smacks, head bobs, carapace scratches, laughs, and shoulders shimmied, revealed that those present already had experience with this.

Maggi revealed more of their plan. “Tet and I have spoken with them, and they’ll reveal their frill ability to the Ragnar that we expect to meet in the future, while not sharing with them the fact that some humans have the same ability. They can withhold that information, even if they won’t lie about what we can do.

“If we are willing to be an outside destabilizing force to help the Empire’s security forces, they may be able bring down the Emperor and his Empire, or at least keep them too busy to bother us. If we can foment a successful trio of revolts, that would serve our interests by splitting one vast threatening empire into three smaller entities, with sectors ruled by the Ragnar, the Finth, and the Thack Delos. There might be a fourth region still controlled by the Thandol. They each would need to focus on consolidating power in their own regions, giving us time to breathe, and to strengthen the Federation. Of course, we don’t know if this is possible, but we want to try.”

She looked around the room. “Fellow Feds, what do you think of trying to implement that proposal? Divide and survive.”

A member of the newest species to join the Federation spoke first. She represented a small population of people that had good reason to feel a deep distrust of powerful species having power over them. Toldot Fetra, one of the two newly elected Krall’tapi representatives to the Federation Council on Haven, had recently conducted an intensive study of human history.

She asked a question that clearly revealed her concern. “Isn’t the actual human expression divide and conquer?”

It was voiced with a sense of skepticism and distrust. She had just pulled that expression from data stored in a library placed within her new mind enhancer, a device recently implanted by the Raspani for her, and for any of her people that wished to reacquire the expanded memory, and mental link capability the ancient Olt’kitapi had once given them.

She expounded on her question. “Isn’t this merely a means to break up the Empire into easier to defeat individual pieces by the Federation?” It seemed like a logical extrapolation to make, based on her people’s experience with the Krall.

Maggi suppressed her usual impulse to answer with a caustic reply, recognizing where the suspicion originated. “Toldot, did anyone force the Krall’tapi to join the Federation? Were your people threatened, or refused any benefits of our newly developing society if you voted not to join? You and Representative Deldra Holtor were granted participation in discussions when we were forming our constitution, and you both voted to approve the final version of that document, well before your people decided to join the Federation.”

Fetra shivered a left shoulder, in an uncomfortably Krall-like sign of agreement. “True. Yet we were bound by the terms of that constitution, even though not a member of the Federation. How free were we to do as we pleased?”

“Well, for one, you had the right to leave Federation territory if you wished, with our help to reestablish on some distant habitable planet outside of our control. The world where you were held prisoners wasn’t your home world, since that home was also the Krall’s destroyed home. You could also have retained your non-member status where you currently live, to rule yourselves, and even to refuse permission for Federation citizens to live on your world, or from visiting there if you so decided. Of course, you couldn’t have visited any Federation worlds without being invited, if you did that.”

“You would have isolated us from our neighbors. As the Krall isolated us.”

“No, you would be isolating yourselves from your neighbors. You would be restricted from imposing your form of government on other people in the Federation, whatever you decided your government would be, and from imposing your laws on them. Just as we would not be allowed to impose our form of government on you. We granted you the planet where you lived as your possession, but the adjacent planets are Federation territory. You couldn’t colonize them unless you were a Federation member, and you would have to apply for the right to do that, and accept that any other Federation species could also live there, or visit when they wish.

“Now that you are Federation members, the right of access to other citizens applies to your declared home world, as you well know. Any Federation species can visit your world, and even take up residence. The population accords apply, of course, and your present small population will not be swamped with an influx of immigrants, which would dilute your self-rule, within our constitution’s framework.

“The Federation doesn’t have a claim on a single one of the star systems within the Empire, let alone over any of the species that currently live there. We do claim the right to defend ourselves from attacks by anyone. If a species within the Empire, such as the Ragnar, wishes to help us counter the threat the Thandol represents to the Federation, we will accept their help, and in turn help them oppose the Thandol. That doesn’t mean we will demand they join the Federation, or go to war with them to force them to join. That goes against the constitution we all approved.

“When I didn’t say divide and conquer, I was expressing our right to survive, and of asking for help to break up an empire that intends our dissolution. That is part of our survival, not of conquering and exploiting pieces of the Thandol Empire. I said exactly what I meant.”

Fetra was still confused about the composition of the invited group present in the conference room. “Only you Kobani, of those in this room, have the temperament and capability to effectively fight the Thandol, or their Ragnar servants. The Prada, Torki, and Raspani have faced an enemy before, but none of them defeated the only aggressor they ever encountered. We Krall’tapi couldn’t resist our own ancestors, even with Olt’kitapi technical assistance. Why were we asked to accompany you to a war zone? Are we expected to talk them out of fighting against you?”

Mirikami spoke up, before his wife said something he’d regret, but that she would enjoy saying. “Representative Toldot Fetra, how long have the Krall’tapi been a subservient species of the Federation?”

“I…, we…,” she faltered at the confusing question. “I mean, we Krall’tapi are not subservient to anyone. We are free of Krall domination.”

“Then, would you say the other three nonhuman species in the room are subservient to a Kobani Emperor, who rules the Federation on behalf of humanity?”

The questions quickly came into focus for her. “No, none of us are servants to your species, or dominated by the Federation. I was not saying we were. That was not what I asked.”

“I agree with you. Nevertheless, your valuable contribution to the conflict at Tanner’s World, and for the entire conflict with the Thandol Empire, may be to do exactly what your question asked. We do want you to try to talk them out of fighting with us.”

She seemed puzzled. “If your missiles and energy beams cannot make them stop fighting, how can my words?”

“Words from you, the Prada, Torki, and Raspani, may be more valuable than all of our weapons. Because you are not subservient species in the Federation, as every species in the Empire is, except for the Thandol. Your words and example may be more effective than our fleet of ships.”

Her toothy, Krall-like attempt at a human style grin was no more comforting to observers than was a ripper’s “smile.” Yet it conveyed her new understanding of what her role would be at Tanner’s World, and her willingness to serve in that capacity.

“If you can get them to listen to me, I will speak for my people, to tell the Ragnar that the weakest population of the Galactic Federation has a voice and a role in its government.”

“Thank you. I should add that I don't ask that everything you say to them to be glowing praise of the Federation. I know that I couldn’t compel you to do that even if I tried, and I don't want to try.” He smiled back at her.

“You have a right to mention your dissenting opinion on aspects of specific Federation decisions, which you have freely expressed in previous public discussions. Such as our preserving remnants of the Krall on an isolated planet. I know you prefer they be exterminated for their crimes. You can express that, or any other disagreement with Federation policy, as can any of our representatives of member species.

“This right to dissent and to be heard is a key difference between the Galactic Federation and the Thandol Empire. Such words should have value as an influence on future Ragnar actions, as regards their support of the Empire. I hope we find an opportunity to speak to them with other than our weapons. We’ll know soon, because we’re barely a half an hour from arrival, and they’ll detect our approach at any moment.”

****

“How many are there, and how soon will they arrive?” The acting Space Force Commander sounded annoyed with the sensor specialist who’d linked to him. Messengers carrying bad new were seldom appreciated.

Grudfad had initially responded with even greater snappish irritation, to what he assumed would be another useless gravity target report from his sensor division. Up until now, their inertial mass detections of stealthed enemy ships had repeatedly arrived too late for coordinating fire control or fleet disposition. This was a slippery and elusive foe.

The sensor division had a different type of detection to report this time. More enemy ships were coming. “Sire, they are too tightly clustered to isolate traces for individual ships, but the advance tachyon waves our traps detected suggests a combined mass roughly equivalent to the last fleet of enemy ships to arrive.”

“Another two thousand?” He grunted in disbelief. He’d have considered another two hundred to be bad news. The technician gave him a time-to-arrival that didn’t leave Grudfad long to plan a response either.

Not that I can create any practical plan to fight twice as many of these berserkers, he thought sourly. He knew what he had to do, and he linked to Thond to tell him.

“Sire, a second fleet of enemy ships is inbound for this world. The advance tachyon wave reveals that it represents a mass equivalent to their previous reinforcement fleet, which consisted of 2,000 of their Ravager equivalent warships.”

Thond replied to him gruffly, displaying less respect than his Acting Space Force Commander thought he deserved. “Lieutenant, they’ve proven to be a very deceptive foe. That new force might consist mainly of those giant ships the crabs build, which are not combat craft, and a just a few of them could be loaded with water, to emulate the mass you infer is present. The enemy wants you to retreat. Do you even know if they have two thousand more captured clanships to send? That would mean they have significantly more warships equivalent to our Ravagers than we have. Where have they been for the other raids?” He knew exactly where Grudfad was leading.

“No, Sire,” his second in command admitted. “We can’t confirm what class of ships these are, but we have not seen any other type of Federation warship. Sending the giant crab ships wouldn’t fool us after the White Out. Not even if they possess the same advanced stealth systems, and can prevent a gamma ray burst. Their large mass concentration would register quickly on our Thandol sensors. We can’t accuse this enemy of being stupid, and they certainly know we are not.”

Thond, to give himself a moment to think, avoided the real subject of Grudfad’s call with a brief diversion. “The additional Hoths have joined our four infantry groups. Did the Spears evade damage as we hoped?”

“They Jumped in and out, nearly as fast as do the Federation ships when they attack us. The enemy reacted by Jumping near to where they had been, but they were too late to launch an attack on them. The Hoths promptly descended deep into the atmosphere, evidently their smaller size and high numbers catching the enemy atmospheric defenses by surprise. The Hoths reached your ground forces before the heavy atmospheric missiles could even get aloft, and their normal aircraft could not face a faster Hoth, having a Normal Space drive.”

Thond, whose mind had been racing, saw no advantage to his present predicament by prevaricating. Time was too short. “What are you going to do, Space Force Commander?” Using this title, rather than his rank of Force Lieutenant Commander, he acknowledged Grudfad’s primary responsibility to the Space Force element.

“Sire, it appears the Federation has committed over four thousand three hundred combat ships to the defense of this one planet. We brought two thousand forty Ravagers and six hundred Shredders for space combat, and some of them are defending the five hundred twelve supply ships. We cannot prevail against that many of the enemy, and their rapid response to our invasion is all but incomprehensible. It seems improbable they knew we were coming, since there was no waiting ambush, yet they matched our total warship force in less than two cycles, and now in less than three cycles, they have sent an overwhelming force. When the Pounder landings were under way, you asked me, ‘Which is more important? The flagship or the rest of the fleet?’”

Thond cringed inwardly at his own words being quoted back to him, knowing it was justified. Grudfad didn’t expect a response, so he continued talking.

“I am informing you that our fleet is at great risk, and under the present circumstances it is more vital to the Ragnar future than is a Ground Force that we cannot possibly withdraw safely with the force already deployed against us, and certainly not before the next enemy fleet arrives. With so many enemy ships, they will cripple or destroy the bulk of our Space Force within two or three cycles. I intend to withdraw, but I will wait until I see what type of ships comprise the new enemy force. What can I do to help strengthen the Ground Force in the short time remaining?”

Thond had been devising a desperate partial remedy while Grudfad spoke. “I propose we send down as many of the supply ships as we can, and divide them equally to land where the Pounders of the four infantry groups are presently gathered. The defensive weapons of the Pounders can help protect them when they leave orbit over them and the infantry. I’m not going to load the infantry into the Pounders now, to move them to link up with the remaining armored forces. However, we need supplies if we are to hold out.

“If there is any hope for our relief or a safe withdrawal later, our leaders have to notify the Thandol High Command of our invasion effort here. They’ll eventually learn about it anyway. The Emperor may agree to send a portion of one of their far larger three fleets here in a relief effort, and if he does, you may be allowed to join them. In any case, I concur with your assessment that you should withdraw the fleet’s warships. Although, the supply ships are vital to us on the ground, but not to the survival of the fleet.”

He exerted his authority. “As Force Commander, I order the captains of the subservient species to Jump their two hundred fifty ships to the edge of atmosphere, directly above our four landing coordinates. There, they will descend as if their survival depends on speed. Because it will.

“If they refuse to follow that order, fire near them until they do. Remind them they can’t flee home when they Jump, because we know who they are. The Ground Force can’t survive long without their cargo. The Ragnar commercial fleet furnished us with supply ships, but they will leave with you when you Jump for home. There’s no need to sacrifice them, and their loss would aggravate the political storm that is certain to arise on Tantor.” Thond’s fabled career seemed unlikely to survive this fiasco, even if he somehow did.

****

Mirikami was incredulous. “Thad, did you say they’re landing more ships? What in hell for? This invasion is a busted operation. More troops and tanks on the ground can’t hold out, not without their fleet for protection and resupply. If the fleet stays we’ll destroy it, or they’ll be driven off after heavy losses. Their ground units are going to be on their own, no matter what.”

“Tet, the only ships Jumping in and descending to land are the supply ships, which we have thus far left alone. Nearly half of them appeared to have designs that differ markedly from ship types the Ragnar build. I spotted at least twenty that resemble the tubby Hothor ships we saw on their world when we were there. Athena spared them earlier, and I agree with her reasons. I didn’t think killing people we might want to cooperate with us in a fight against the Thandol a good idea.

“Now, I’m reconsidering. I wonder if we should dive in close to Tanner’s to blast them as they arrive. Those supplies will be used to support their troops.”

Mirikami was doing his own consideration. “Thad, is it only the ships you think are from subservient species doing the landing?”

There was a brief pause. “About half of the supply ships have the sleek lines the Ragnar seem to admire, and those also have similar electromagnetic signatures to the Normal Space drives of the Ravagers and Shredders. None of those are attempting to land. I think it’s only the ships of the other aliens doing that.”

That confirmed what Mirikami suspected. “Thad, I want you to let them get through unmolested. Ask the PDF to avoid shooting them down unless they do anything hostile. I doubt if they are capable of an attack anyway, or can defend themselves for that matter. I believe this means the rest of their fleet is about to Jump out of the system, taking the Ragnar built supply ships with them. They don’t mind losing those alien ships and crews, and they know some of the supplies will reach the ground safely even if we do attack them.

“With us in control above Tanner’s World, and then we deploy our troops, Shadows, and the ladybugs we brought with us, I think we can contain their infantry and defeat their armor, even if they get those supplies. In fact, if we are obvious about allowing resupply to happen, that should play into Maggi’s political strategy. We can prove to the species of the Empire that we are not like the Thandol. It’s also a gesture we can point to, when Maggi tries to convince the Ragnar, down on the planet, that we will negotiate with them in good faith.

“I don’t know, man. It may be a hard sell to the PDF. Their troopers, even with our help, are vastly outnumbered, and they don’t have any armor or decent air cover.”

“I’ll give them the two hundred ladybugs we brought with us, delivered to wherever they need them. I learned from Nabarone that Tanner’s shipped their handful of wartime tanks and most of their ladybugs to New Dublin, two years ago, to help root out the Krall holdouts there after we neutralized their fleet. Our four hundred thirty-two Shadows will fly support for them. I know the enemy flyers can’t match the capability of our pilots, but their space planes might have more firepower.”

“OK, Tet. In ten minutes you’ll join the party. You have the IFF codes to keep the PDF from shooting at you, and they know you’re coming. Any of your ships that don’t have troops, Shadows, or ladybugs aboard to slow them down can go after the Ravagers and Shredders before the Ragnar fleet makes a withdrawal. Let me link to Colonel Gaffigan to plead with him to let the enemy’s supplies get through. What a fascinating conversation that’s going to be.”

****

Hitok was as amazed as Thond, after the new enemy arrivals made their presence known. Destructively so. “They actually had another two thousand clanships to throw at us. If they have as many of them as Thandol drone scouts estimated were once in Krall possession, over twenty thousand, the Empire could be in trouble. The Federation may have captured a fleet that is eighty percent the size of the Thandol Space Force. That fleet was partly why the High Command wanted the Empire to stay incognito for so long. They may have overestimated the degree of destruction the Krall fleet suffered from human attacks. Humans must have had their own warships before defeating the Krall and capturing their fleet.”

Thond had the same concerns. “Where is the navy the humans used to conduct their war with the Krall, before the Federation won and had captured clanships to use? We haven’t seen a single warship they must have used to fight the Krall, before they learned how to disable their weapons.”

Thond reluctantly conceded the possibility that there was a larger Federation fleet than the High Command believed, but he had reservations. “If they have so many warships, I can’t explain why they left their newer colonies so undefended, at least after they learned about the Emperor’s aggressive intents. I suppose alien minds are alien, and we can’t be sure we understand their thinking.”

Hitok uttered a confused hoot-pant. “There’s no denying the Federation’s reaction at a more populated and developed world like this one. Grudfad, by waiting to see what type of ships the Federation sent in that last wave, paid for our curiosity. He has already lost twenty-four more Ravagers, against only five of their ships lost. Forty-three nearly helpless Shredders have been blown apart, in a terrible travesty of their names. They are designed for a type of combat the humans refuse to fight.”

Then he commented on the good fortune granted to his Group 1 Ground Force. “Why do you think the enemy is permitting the supply ships through unchallenged? We need the ammunition and power packs, food, and heavier weapons, spare parts, and replacement body armor, so I’m not complaining. But this smacks of being a deliberate strategy on their part, which must have a benefit for them in the long term. Yet, I can’t see how it helps them.”

Thond hooted in amusement. “They have not been shy in showing their displeasure with us up to now. I’m sure an unpleasant explanation will soon be revealed.”

“Well,” Hitok said, almost in envy, “Commander Grifdan is satisfied the enemy has not placed any defenses along the river valley he’s in. That valley leads up to the bluff where his target city and spaceport were built. Several high suspension bridges cross the river, and make for shorter routes, but he isn’t about to use them. They would be too tempting a target for demolition with Pillagers on them, and they may be high enough for some of the defense lasers to target them, if they were leaned on their sides. He told me he split Group 2 in half, and is using the excellent roads that run parallel to the curving river on both sides, along the lowest parts of the valley.

“Most of that city’s laser batteries are high up on the bluff, and can’t possibly be aimed down into the valley, as happened to Gontra on the flat plains. Grifdan says the hills along the winding river will shield his Pillagers for most of his approach, even if some of the space defense lasers above them, around the city, could somehow be tipped over to such an extreme angle. The valley is free of the high ridges and narrow canyons that were used to trap Culpa. Staging a simultaneous double ambush on both sides of the river in the valley is impossible. Each column is within easy range of the other for mutual fire support. I wish the situation I faced had so obvious a solution.”

“What have your scouts and drones reported?” Thond asked, having been too preoccupied with other matters to foolishly micro manage his best Ground Force Commander.

“My battlefield AI estimates there are less than ten thousand enemy soldiers in body armor, dispersed around the edges of the city on the side of our approach, to confront my column. Although, in the last twentieth of a cycle, keeping a drone aloft has become nearly impossible. They are shot down even when stealthed.”

“The enemy has no type of Pillagers of their own? This is where their small military ground force, the only one apparently remaining on this planet, is concentrated. If they had armor like ours, here is the place they would use them. Could the terrain or buildings be concealing them?”

“They would have had to reposition them before our fleet arrived. No tanks have been seen. The scouts have not entered the city, but they have used vantage points on hilltops near the edge of the outlying structures to observe. I mentioned the problems with drone observations. That itself is a clue to how sophisticated the enemy body armor is. They are being shot down by individual troopers, at considerable distance, using plasma rifles that have higher energy bolts than do our own handheld weapons. And their targeting accuracy is fast and accurate. I believe they must have low-grade Artificial Intelligent systems helping them, linking their hand weapons to their suit visors, as ours do. In the Empire, since the Thandol prohibit such weapons production for the subservient species, only we and the other security forces have such capability. We have not faced an enemy equipped like this previously.”

“Then that makes them a potential match with your Ragoons, but not your armor. Our own infantry can’t easily take out a Pillager without heavier weapons than plasma or laser rifles. Even against a shoulder fired missile, our reactive armor makes penetration unlikely. If several of their soldiers focused repeated bolts on the same spot, they would eventually burn through. A Pillager crew would have to stand still, like idiots, to permit that.”

Hitok agreed, but was still concerned. “My crews are trained to keep moving and to fire back instantly when attacked, but to be blunt, our Ragoons have faced only relatively inexperienced forces in the last twenty orbits or so, since the last organized revolt by the three species that joined forces. These people faced the Krall, within their own life times, and won that war. They have already demonstrated resilience and improvisation against two of our Ground Force Groups. I don't want to be surprised.”

“I assume you will take advantage of the surrounding hills and valleys, and approach from multiple directions? Gontra and Culpa kept their forces bunched together and came at the enemy from only one direction. Grifdan has split his force in two, to negate a single trap catching both columns, and they can each support the other column if ground forces foolishly attempted to attack his armor.”

Hitok bobbed his entire body once, in agreement. “I will be entering the city along six corridors on this east side. Two are larger highways, the other four are lesser routes, through what appears to be residential areas, and then, when close to the orbital batteries, individual units will be dispatched to destroy them, as the main force continues towards the spaceport we need to capture. The scouts are reporting that the enemy in body armor are spread around the east side of the city, and will not be able to concentrate what force they have on any single point of entry. They are using civilian transport trucks, except for a number of heavy shuttles that have carried groups to the more distant locations. There is a mass evacuation underway of their civilians, which sometimes clog their roads, but that is on the west side, and to a less extent on the north and south.”

Thond had a plan for that. “When they move most of their citizens out of the city, away from us, I’ll direct the Stranglers to circle and intercept them, they can become hostages. Our Space Force Strangler Captains have been reluctant to get involved, without the Ravager escorts that normally fly cover for them, as they travel low and slow over a population they are beaming into painful submission. Had I stayed on the flagship, the Ground Forces would have had more support. Particularly after what happened to the twenty Stranglers assigned to Gontra.”

Hitok used a Ragnar cliché. “You’re shedding winter hair at the end of summer.” It meant he was too late to wish he’d done something different.

Thond hooted in good humor. “It would relieve the heat I’m feeling now, however.”

Then he added, “I’m eager to see how you and Grifdan adjust to our unpredictable enemy.”

****

Mirikami was pleased. “I’ll bet they couldn’t have predicted so many of our reinforcements would do that, or even realize yet what we just did.”

He was referring to the nearly five hundred ships that separated from the two thousand new arrivals. Close to fifteen hundred ships immediately joined the onslaught on the Ragnar fleet, which tried to hold their own against double their number of warships. They were sacrificing ships to cover the landings of supplies for the Ground Forces. The civilian supply ships were descending recklessly, as if their survival depended on landing quickly. It did, but they were unaware that the only threat today came from the soon to depart Ragnar ships if they didn’t obey. The Ragnar’s own commercial ships Jumped as soon as the new Federation fleet arrived, with the ships of the subservient races already committed to landings. The Ragnar commercial captains only stayed as long as they did, to maintain the pretense that they would be following the ships of the subservient species down to the planet.

Mirikami took advantage of the ships landing, to slip in his ships loaded with four hundred thirty-two Shadows, two hundred ladybugs, and twenty-one thousand Kobani in shielded body armor. Of course, the Kobani ships possessed near perfect stealth only while flying in a vacuum. Atmospheric disturbances from their passage, if they had streaked across empty skies, would have revealed so many of them making landings. So they didn’t do that.

The two hundred fifty Ragnar supply ships were descending towards four landing sites, which were near the same cities where the PDF had the greatest need for what the Kobani brought. The five hundred Kobani ships quickly dove into atmosphere to join with those enemy supply ships, to descend close to the four cities under ground assault, using the supply ships as cover. Their atmospheric passage was mixed with the ion and turbulence trails of the completely visible civilian craft from the Empire.

At extremely low altitude, the Kobani ships separated and proceeded at considerably lower speeds towards their designated landing sites at the four cities, with Mirikami communicating all the while with the PDF colonel, to avoid friendly fire mistakes. The five hundred Kobani ships were not using coded IFF transmissions to identify themselves to the PDF, because that signal would also mark them as the enemy to the Ragnar. You can’t remain anonymous if you shout here I am to your friends. The PDF, in turn, was only firing at orbital height targets that were not using IFF, and despite misgivings, they sent no Turb Control guided missiles aloft.

Both sides were being resupplied, with one difference. The Ragnar ground forces would be losing orbital bombardment support and resupply, because they knew their war fleet was about to withdraw. Not so, for the PDF ground forces, with Kobani ships soon to dominate space above Tanner’s World.

****

Commander Grifdan was at the head of his left bank column, following the road on that side of the river. He was staying roughly even with the right bank column, which was led by Lieutenant Commander Kardor, his longtime second in command. Kardor too had his armored head protruding from the top hatch, but neither Ragnar was exposing their entire body, so they were prepared to button up if any opposition presented itself.

Culpa’s armor had transmitted his visuals and vital signs to designated AI’s on selected Ravagers and it was relayed back to the other Groups, as he was roasted alive in his suit, coated in a thick flaming gel of some sort of petroleum product. Gontra had also been exposed, sitting on his turret when he died, but his turret’s cupola had been partly vaporized, along with his body, so being buttoned up would have made no difference for him.

Several times, Group 2’s split columns encountered abandoned vehicles on their respective roadways. Mindful of how they had been used as flaming booby traps against Culpa’s Group 3, they blasted the vehicles at a safe range, using high-powered lasers.

Every one of them fired at rewarded their caution, not with gouts of flaming petroleum, but with powerful star-hot plasma filled blasts, as their still active fusion bottles ruptured and violently lost containment. Because there was a powerful explosion each time, rather than potentially less lethal plasma venting, Commander Grifdan knew an explosive device had been affixed to their power units. Apparently, the enemy hoped the Pillagers would try to roll over them or push them aside, triggering a detonation when they were close. Usually, if a fusion bottle was burned through this way, the laser created a small molten point of failure somewhere on the containment housing, which caused one side of a fusion bottle to vent energetically. Dangerous, even to a Pillager if it was close enough, but they generally didn’t suddenly explode, sending high velocity fragments to damage the tracks, weapons, or reactive armor.

Grifdan’s drones confirmed that there were dozens of abandoned vehicles on each of the two valley spanning bridges. He had already determined the bridges should be avoided, because of the risk of their being demolished as a column tried to cross the long spans, or a tipped on-its-side orbital laser might be able to pick tanks off as they crossed. He didn’t give a thought to how obvious the booby traps were on the winding roads by the river. That their purpose may have been merely to demonstrate why using the high bridges, with multiple vehicles parked on them, should be avoided.

They found fertile farmland along the wide river valley, and there were frequent evacuated farm dwellings. Livestock was seen near some of the large red structures by the residences, and Debilitater units demonstrated their purpose, as their operators beamed them over the helpless screaming animals, and the silent structures as well, just in case the drones had missed the IR heat signature of someone hiding.

One bored Debilitater operator focused his antenna to form a narrow high-powered beam, and played it on the center of the river, which was slightly below a curve in the road they followed. There were clearly aquatic creatures there, but not a huge population, and most of the fish weren’t very large, as their frantic and painful splashing demonstrated.

His Pillager was in the Legion immediately behind the one the Group Commander personally led. The column was currently pausing behind a low hill where the road followed a river bend to the left. The right bank column would briefly be exposed on the opposite side roadway when they followed that curve. There was a narrow line of sight visibility of both sides of the river from the city, located farther up the valley. The head of the valley narrowed, and rose higher as it neared the edge of the city, with the river filled with rapids as it descended to the more placid waters below.

The split column had been following a simple procedure, when the left or right line of Pillagers would be exposed to the city bluffs, and potential laser or plasma fire from there for a short distance. Units from the still shielded column, protected by the terrain, would take positions just below the top of the hilltop, where their guns could be trained on the city. The column about to be exposed to potential fire, would space units out, and one at a time, race at maximum speed along the well-built road until the next bend of the river valley again gave them cover.

Next, their Pillagers would climb a hillside to cover the advance of the other column for the same limited exposure. At this point in their advance, they were less than two miles from the city limits at lower elevations below higher ground. The main part of the city was built along the top of a huge wide bluff. The weapons the tanks possessed could easily target any structure they could see, and for the guided bunker busters, they could strike the other side of the city if needed, using drone images for targeting coordinates. The Debilitater equipped units had been repeatedly playing narrow beams along the nearest edge of the city, to discourage observers and combatants. There hadn’t been a shot fired at them yet, but neither had there been shots fired at Group 3 or 4, until the traps were sprung.

The enemy’s orbital lasers weren’t firing at overhead targets now. That was possibly a result of not having low level Ragnar targets anymore. Drone observations revealed that the batteries on this side of the city had been driven away from their pads, probably to preserve them from long range tank bombardment, well before the Pillagers reached accurate firing range. The Space Force had held to higher altitudes, above five hundred miles, because fighting with enemy ships could leave them distracted and vulnerable to ground energy beams, if they strayed into lower orbits, where Kobani ships repeatedly tried to draw them. Periodic flashes of exploding ships had burned their way even through the daytime sky on this side of the planet. On the night side, the brilliant flashes had cast brief shadows.

From the surface, it had not been obvious who had the upper hand, since craft of both sides exploded impartially bright. However, knowing that it was their fleet that was about to withdraw, provided the rank-and-file Ragoons enough of a clue as to the allegiance of the majority of those dying ships. The vacuum-suckers had earned their nickname today, and a high measure of respect. At least until the Ragnools vanished into the safety of Tachyon Space, leaving the Ground Forces to hold out on their own, waiting to learn if a relief force would be organized. That was assuming the Emperor, or his High Command, considered them worth saving.

In any event, they intended to continue to fight, because surrendering to the will of the Empire never ended the immediate suffering for the losers. The civilians were made to pay, and their combat forces paid the harshest price, even after surrender. The Thandol never admired the heroics of their opposition, although the Ragnar did. Not that they refused to administer the punishments when ordered to do so.

To cover the right bank column, which was now prepared to accelerate their mechanized units around the exposed bend of the roadway, Grifdan sent two Legions of his Pillagers up the gentle hillside to his left, to provide suppressive fire if needed. The heavy laser tanks also doubled as his air defenses, and they had active radar scans that constantly watched the full sky, seeking enemy targets.

An airborne enemy was defined as anything the Ragnar hadn’t sent up there. The alien avian species here had been learning that harsh rule of survival all day from every Ragnar armored column, as well as from the infantry forces they’d left at the landing zones. Any bird or animal might be a spy bot, and earned the attention of a low powered laser or higher powered Debilitater ray. Besides, it kept bored gunners occupied and alert.

Looking at a handheld screen, something he knew Kardor was also doing at the head of the other column, he watched for overlaid digital symbols of any AI detected threat, compiled from the integrated radar, visual, infrared, and audible spectrums being monitored. There was the usual motion of plants in the breezes, distant birds, a number of livestock animals, but nothing moving, mechanical or living, was detected along the city bluff they could see. He signaled Kardor to proceed.

When a hundred eighty of the right bank column had raced around the exposed curve, without any response from the city, and with only five more units to go, Kardor ordered two Legions to climb the hill now shielding his forward Pillagers, to cover the left bank column when it would next be exposed.

That must have been the triggering event for the human defenders, indicating this Group was now close enough for what was to come.

The first suspicious indications on Grifdan’s screen was from both radar and visual spectrums, with a trace of infrared. It looked like a dark gray spray of hundreds of fingers shooting into the sky, with the city’s skyline outlined in front of them. They were followed by billowing clouds of lighter gray rising behind the same buildings, on the right side of the city on the bluff. It was dust and mist, which rose slower than the first sky stabbing shards. It looked as if there had been a massive explosion on the far side of the town.

He felt a sharp vibration transmitted through the ground, transmitted through the tank’s rumbling treads, and saw a sweeping set of small ripples form in a swiftly passing shock wave along the river’s surface, with loose rocks on the hillsides and riverbanks rolling down as they were dislodged.

That relatively mild, artificial seismic event wasn’t registered by the AI’s, since they didn’t have software or sensors to monitor for that. However, traveling slower than the ground shock wave that had just passed them, the sounds of the multiple blasts that caused the sprays of debris reached them next. The audible source of the explosion, along with the now falling chunks of debris, proved that indeed, there had been a massive blast on the opposite side of the city on the bluff.

Declaring the obvious to his leader, Kardor called him on the link to shout shrilly, “Commander, something blew up on the far side of the city. Did they just destroy the spaceport we need?”

“No. Select an overhead image on your viewer. The spaceport is well away from that explosion. The blasts happened close that long lake, which they use for water transport by barges, bringing in crops from farms all along that long body of water. The picture we have is a day old orbital image of the city and that lake. I’ve sent a drone higher in that direction, to see what they just did.”

“Sire, I’ve called for my final five units to join me immediately. My two guard Legions are in position on the next hill to cover your column. Are you going to advance or wait?”

“I’m coming now, but I’ll maintain my column in Legion sized units, to advance faster than sending individual Pillagers can. I’ll leave the two guard Legions on the hill here until last, for added protection. I don't know what the enemy just destroyed, but it can’t be to our advantage. It’s possible, as you suggested, they might decide to damage the spaceport facilities next. Only, that isn’t as valuable to us as it originally was. I think the Spears will be home, and we won’t have ships landing here anytime soon. Not even if Space Force Commander Grudfad leaves them behind, hiding in the outer system. The enemy fleet would never let them through to reach us.”

As he instructed his half of the column on what he wanted them to do, he thought about changed priorities.

“Our Pounders can land up on the bluff after our Ragoons load the new supplies onto them. At least they can land there after we take the city and kill those laser batteries. The Hoths, protecting the Pounders and supporting our infantry, can land vertically on any road, so we don’t need the spaceport for them.”

Then he had an afterthought. “Although, the Stranglers need a safe place to land for servicing and supply. They need wide sturdy paved areas.” He dismissed that concern for now. “The humans can’t do enough damage to the entire tarmac to keep them from sitting down on it somewhere. I’m moving my first Legion forward now, be ready to cover us.”

His driver immediately started forward, advancing the throttle to reach full speed before they came around the end of the hill that shielded them from the city. That would minimize the length of exposure time from any attack from the top of the bluff. The nineteen Pillagers of his Legion followed him, with only an AI controlled single tank interval between each one, moving at a breakneck pace. The nearly silent electric motors, powered by an even quieter fusion bottle for power, didn’t mean they were completely noiseless. Their stronger than steel composite treads, designed for gripping nearly any surface, still screeched when slammed into acceleration as they slipped briefly on the road’s surface.

The next Legion behind them allowed only a five Pillager gap to form, before they too leaped into action to follow at speed. They were ready to meet this enemy, and to get into action against more than the damned birds, livestock, fish, and empty buildings they had encountered all day. The explosion on the other side of the city proved there were still humans there.

Grifdan thought, they can’t evacuate and flee from me indefinitely. He was right.

Rumbling and vibrations from the heavy tanks, moving fast on pavement, was transmitted and felt though the crew’s body armor. The sound was filtered out by their helmets. Each Pillager commander buttoned up inside the turret when they were exposed to potential fire this close to the city, and most donned their helmets to avoid the rumble sounds when they clattered along the pavement at top speed.

Grifdan was still inside the turret, and he was looking over the driver’s shoulder, at one external view screen that displayed the scene on their right side, towards the river, waiting for the view of part of the city’s edge to be obscured by the next hill on that side of the river. He could see the multiple tracks left by the two Legions that had driven up the slope of the grassy hill on the other side of the river. He couldn’t see the tanks because they’d entered some sort of orchard that covered the crest of the hill, but he knew they were near the top, watching for any new activity from the city.

The pall of gray dust from the explosions was still visible, but being blown away from them by the prevailing winds. His handheld viewer was linked directly to a drone’s camera, the one he’d ordered to climb and fly towards where the blasts had occurred. That point was at least two miles on the opposite side of the center of the city, which placed it four miles from their position. Its camera was looking up along the river, where the descending rapids came around a final bend, and spilled into the first wider pool of calmer water below the bluffs.

His driver was backing down from the bone rattling speed, as the next low hill shielded them from view from the city. That’s when Kardor called him, again shouting in a panic on the link. “Quick, get to high ground, Sire. The Pillagers on the hill can see it coming. We all need to climb higher. Now!”

“See what coming?”

“Water Sire,” he screamed, “spilling out of the banks, pouring over the top of hills.”

Grifdan glanced at the drone’s camera image on his hand viewer, just as a turbulent white foaming torrent of water roared down and around the sloping bend of rapids, engulfing the tamer white water and picking up speed. There was a vast surging wall of water behind the leading initial flow, which hugely increased the volume of water, filling the narrow head of the valley, filling it from side to side. The wild crashing waves swept along uprooted trees, and smashed structures, torn from the farms it had just swept away.

His driver, in an act of self-preservation hadn’t needed an order. He gunned the engines and spun the Pillager into a screeching hard left, to angle for the nearest slope they could climb.

Grifdan watched the wild raging torrent on the viewer, still gaining momentum as it roared down the slope from the highlands, ripping through the ancient cut in the bluff below where the city was built. That cut, and the valley below it, had been created by an uncontrolled river that had once etched the land in the seasons of heavy rains, for a million or more years. It’s stored and dammed waters now set free again.

Until it had been tamed by the colonists on Tanner’s World, to guard against the ravages of the rainy season, they had dammed the stream at a narrow canyon the water had cut through the ancient rock layers above the bluff. That had created a large deep reservoir to use for navigation on the lake it created, and provided flood control for a verdant valley in the lowlands. The huge blast they’d just observed had been the destruction of that dam. It had taken time for the released water to cover the miles from the dam, through the old canyon to reach the lowlands, picking up speed and fury the entire way.

As he watched, the wall of foamy, debris filled water overpowered the curve where the more obedient rapids were flowing, surging over the hills to either side, carrying away another orchard, like the one where the two Legions that had guarded his advance were poised to attack the supposedly helpless city.

The water’s depth continued to build as the momentum of the vast reservoir was drained down into the once protected valley. There had never been a natural torrent here like this one, because nature had never built a dam. This was a deliberate, human made disaster. Some of the blocky hard chunks being pushed along by the water could be pieces of the shattered damn. They were much larger than a Pillager

Group 2’s Commander knew that soon there would be another three hundred seventy pieces of debris swept along with the force of water. Sealed and water tight, assuming their crews even survived the pummeling tumbles, they all would die buried in mud, in whatever haphazard position the uncaring waters left them.

He knew the humans had waited to blow the dam until he was in the narrow upper part of the valley, close to the base of the highlands. They wanted him to follow the roads parallel to the winding lower river, staying away from the high bridges. They surely had examined simulations of potential disaster scenarios, and realized at this location, before the water could spread wider in the valley below and leaving islands of hilltop safety, there were no hills high enough this close to avoid inundation. Not if the water was released all at once.

They had sacrificed hundreds of years of local colony development, just to wipe his armored Group from existence, using what they had available and improvising.

This is an insane species, he thought. The Krall should have left them alone, and so should have we.

He watched the onrushing waters, and ignored the increasingly shrill voice of Kador’s pointless warnings to climb higher.

****

Hitok, a half continent away from Group 2, listened with Thond in disbelief, as Grudfad told them the fate of Grifdan’s armored command. The two of them were in a mobile headquarters unit, installed on the largest class of a Pillager chassis. The flagship, along with the rest of the battered fleet was preparing to Jump for home.

He sounded apologetic, and humbled. “You have the supplies I promised. The enemy, for their own inscrutable reasons, let the ships through unmolested. I could not have forced them to do so. I have lost Ravagers almost five to one against their losses since their second fleet arrived, and nearly all of our Shredders have been damaged or destroyed. I perhaps stayed here too long, to protect your supply ships, which they ignored anyway.

“The flagship AI says the newest arriving enemy ships used our supply ships as cover for conducting landings of their own. With their better stealth, it isn’t certain how many, but the AI thinks they slipped in a quarter of their reinforcements in four groups, penetrating alongside the civil ships, descending near where the four Pounder Groups landed. It can’t tell me what they did after that. At least the Pounder captains and infantry units haven’t reported being attacked, so they seem to have gone elsewhere.”

Thond replied, stoically. “Then, it appears that Commander Hitok and I must conquer this planet with his one Ground Force Armored Group and infantry support, and with my control of nearly a hundred thirty-five thousand Ragoons in the other three infantry sections, several hundred flight worthy Pounders, and eight hundred eighty Hoths. And we have supplies that are scattered haphazardly between the four landing zones on two continents, because the supply ships were not sorted and assigned sites based on our needs.”

Grudfad was defensive, “Sire, there was no time to organize the unwilling captains of the subservient species, to send them where logistics said they were needed. We thought most of them were doomed by even making the attempt.”

Thond replied calmly and formally. “Acting Space Force Commander, I was merely listing the factual disposition of our resources, not offering a criticism of your command. In light of the situation here, preserving the fleet is my paramount concern, as it obviously is yours. Commander Hitok and I will continue the fight here as best we can, while you take the fleet home for repairs, and particularly home defense, if the Emperor proves to be annoyed enough to attack us.”

He became bit sarcastic. “If the High Command can talk the Emperor into a relief mission, perhaps in another orbit or so their planning will be complete, and the remnants holding out here, if any, can be brought home.”

Grudfad sounded earnest as he said, “Force Commander, I will do what I can to organize a relief mission, or resupply for you at a minimum. One that will arrive in time to be of benefit to you. I offer you my life-vow.” He was prepared for an honor suicide if he broke his word.

“I did not think otherwise of you my young friend, and your honor and intentions are not in doubt. However, you have not fought enough campaigns for the Thandol to have experienced their indifference towards us, as have I. True, we are one of their security forces, but that doesn’t mean they hold us in any higher regard as a people, than they do the other subservient species of the Empire. So long as we perform the regulatory and punishment duties they prefer to avoid themselves, and we collect their taxes for them, we are granted a share of the funds, we have greater freedom and a degree of dominion over the other species in this sector of the Empire.

“On this world, I acted outside the boundaries of what I knew they would approve, by using an extension of authority that they had not foreseen I would use. If successful, they would accept the results, and excuse my audacity. Then, they would redefine my freedom to act without prior approval in the future.

“The Thandol think we have no more ambition than the less aggressive species we help them dominate. This will serve to remind them they are wrong. That is why I tell you that it is to our people’s advantage to preserve the fleet, to keep intact the force that the Thandol think is most vital to them. Our Ground Forces are not as important to them. In hindsight, I should have recognized the human victory over the Krall had to be more than the luck of finding the weak point the Olt’kitapi intended to use to stop the barbarians. I should have allowed the Thandol the misfortune of discovering how this Federation’s most aggressive species accomplished that feat. The Emperor’s weakening, at the hands of this foe, would have made us relatively stronger.

“Should the Thandol defeat the Federation, I foresee them offering humans a role as a fourth security force in this annexed region. They have often spoken of the greater stability four footpads provide, and with only three security forces, they have long feared the Empire was unbalanced. Offering a security role to humanity would deny us the share of power and new taxes that we believed was possible in this huge new region. Delay no longer. Jump for Tantor now, and return later to win a share of this new territory for our people.”

“Yes, Sire. Good luck.” And within minutes, in mid battle, the fleet was suddenly gone.

****

Mirikami wasn’t surprised. “Well, I expected a withdrawal. Although, I thought they might try to slip out their troops and landers before their fleet left. We would have bled their fleet heavily while they made the attempt. I suppose that’s why they saved what is really their most effective force. The landers would have been decimated if they attempted to climb without having first crippled the nearest PDF defenses, and then passing through our domination of orbital space. It was a rational decision on the part of their commander. I assume he left with the fleet.”

Maggi, more a political thinker, considered the implications. “I think letting the supply ships through makes them feel they’re in a stronger position than before. It helps us by showing we can be merciful, and they have some strength to use in trading with us when we start to negotiate. Right now, they feel stronger with those supplies in hand, with over eight hundred fifty space planes, several hundred armored landers, and one nearly intact tank force. They surely believe they have four armies pitted against negligible ground forces, and think they can still prevail at those four cities. If their history is like ours, they know air power has never won a ground war on its own, and we’ve seen they understand a blitzkrieg style of ground warfare. However, if they get their troops into towns or cities, like Fort Bradford here, it will be hard to dig them out.”

“They won’t take over Fort Bradford, even with their armored units.” Sarge said with assurance. “There’ll be a force of nearly thirty thousand troops here by tomorrow, two thirds of ‘em Kobani. The PDF shuttles are bringing in the local troops they had dispersed at other cities, which will bring them up to just over ten thousand. Our people landed with us.”

Maggi wasn’t so certain. “The Ragnar have about forty-five thousand infantry moving this way on commandeered trucks, escorted by several hundred space planes, and I think Thad said about eighty-four landers are flying low with them, providing them with aerial plasma, laser, and missile defenses. With at least twenty Stranglers, each with their own similar defenses. They aren’t exactly wide open to attack from orbit.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t want us to have to fight them off if we could negotiate instead.”

Tet had a better understanding of what Sarge was trying to achieve. He’d decided to let the former Poldark infantryman try out another of his schemes. to keep the destruction down, while convincing the enemy they needed to negotiate.

“Maggi, Sarge has a plan, and he discussed it with Gaffigan, Thad and me. We think it’s worth a try, to gain a military advantage that the Ragnar will see and respect.”

“Tet, I heard Colonel Gaffigan say the ladybugs are no match for any of the Ragnar tanks in a shootout, except for those units with Debilitaters transmitters. And even they carry lasers that can take out a ladybug. We don't know how well even our modified body armor will hold up against the Debilitaters, and the PDF troops have copper screen undies for their only protection, as do some of our own people. General Nabarone can’t talk Admiral Foxworthy into delivering his troops here yet. Not without President Strickland’s approval. I don't think we look strong enough to the Ragnar to force them into negotiating their surrender.”

Sarge grinned. “Then let’s convince them to agree to an honorable truce, after first convincing them that we could blow their hairy asses to kingdom come if we want.”

“How do you plan to accomplish that without actually having to do it, Oh Great and Sneaky One?” She asked sarcastically

“Watch and learn from an experience warhorse, you little blondie. I’m not Captain of the Sneaky Bastard without reason, ya know.”

“Humph. Big deal, you’re self-named. And if you imply I’m a blonde airhead again, you’ll learn what a gelding is, warhorse.”

Chapter 8: Counter Attack

Thond was impatient for Hitok to enter the outskirts of Fort Bradford. Not that he could read the city’s name on the sign by the roadway. “I ordered the Stranglers to hover below the tops of the rolling hills, and they’re sweeping all of the roads and buildings along all the routes into the residential areas. The drones saw refugees, all of them humans it appeared, evacuating the city away from us for the last two cycles of this world.”

This time, the invasion force, joined by infantry was proceeding cautiously, spread out over a wider front, using natural cover. The armored units didn’t always use roadways, and the terrain offered shielding from the now stilled orbital lasers, which had no space targets now. The drones reported none of them had been lowered into pits, or tipped to their sides. There were no narrow canyons they could block, nor a river valley with a dam they could destroy and thus bury or sweep them away. Nevertheless, Commander Hitok was determined not to underestimate this enemy, as three other Ground Force Commanders had done.

Thond continued to contemplate this strange acting opponent. “If this so called Federation has other species as full participating members, they are certainly making themselves hard to find. Humans, the sea crabs, and the hairy little tree dwelling bipeds, are the only creatures that we’ve seen, or had reported to us by the Thandol. They are supposed to have several other member species.”

Hitok, intently observing the drone images, and those he, or the AI in the mobile command center selected from cameras mounted on other tanks, stayed focused on potential ambushes for his multipronged force, as it started to enter the edge of the city.

Trying not to sound critical, or imposing his authority on a commander he’d granted full authority over his own Group, Thond had to comment on a difference he saw compared to past behavior by Hitok. “Krintar, it’s your force, but I don't recall you being so cautious when we campaigned together in the past. On Kindar, Folthan, or Spil’dar, where we met stiff resistance from those three revolts.”

“Gimtal, we never lost even a tenth of a Group from all three of those armed insurrections combined, not even counting the eleven other punishment raids the Emperor sent us to administer, after he felt some trivial slight, or insult had been made. Yes, we lost some Ragoons, a few Pillagers, even a few Ravagers, Stranglers, and Smashers, in the insurrections. But losing three entire Armored Forces, in a single action? That only happened long ago, against the Thandol, and even then, those greater losses took place over many years, against superior weaponry and a dominant fleet. And that was done by actual military forces. I don't know that we’ve even confronted human military ground forces yet.”

“Commander Gontra’s armor was certainly met by the human military.” Thond countered, in a remark he instantly regretted.

“Not by a human ground force military.” Hitok answered. “That was a space defense system, which was unexpectedly converted into a ground defense. I never heard of any other opponent doing something like that.”

Hitok used a Ragnar expression to explain what he was doing now. “I’m trying to learn what they have hidden under their hairy armpits. An alien trained ground defense force might do things we don’t expect. Who knows what weapon they can pull from a symbolic armpit, which we didn’t anticipate?”

As the Pillagers moved through the suburbs of Fort Bradford, following sweeps of beams by the cautious Stranglers, dead flying things were found on roofs, in yards, and often in streets. Some small dead ground dweller animals could have been pets, pests, or small animals that infiltrated where civilization tolerated them. There were no large livestock type creatures seen lying about, as there had been in the agricultural regions they had passed along the way earlier, and which were left dead behind them. There was no smoke, although it was like a scorched earth policy for any animal life they encountered. Yet, there were no dead humans. The civilian populations had apparently moved out in an orderly fashion a day ago, demonstrating that it was a well-organized movement, and had been anticipated.

Seeing something on a screen, which the AI had brought to his attention, Hitok called a halt to the tank advances that were moving along the paved surfaces. There was something circular in the center of multiple roads, seen in several images right about where the first buildings appeared at the edges of the city.

Thond leaned over the armored shoulder of the Ground Force Commander to see what he saw. It was a metal looking disk, round, and wide enough for an unarmored Ragoon to fit through if that was a hatch of some type, placed in the center of the road. A query of the AI, using drone images for data input, showed that there were such disks spaced at regular intervals along every roadway deeper into the city, and a close up drone image showed wear and scratches on the surfaces, proving they had been there for a considerable time.

In an abundance of caution, Hitok ordered three different units, on widely separated random streets, to train three main weapons on the disks and to fire on them, to see what effect they would have.

The heavy laser turned the nearly finger thick metal of its target red, then nearly yellow-white as it slagged and turned molten at the center, and fell into a cavity below, when its edges pulled in from a metal rim that supported the cover. At another manhole cover, a plasma bolt vaporized a foot-wide hole in the center of its target, with blue actinic sparks glancing off the surface when the bolt first struck. A second bolt cut the disk through on one side and that object too fell into a dark cavity.

The massive blast from a bunker buster shell blew the cover from the third target flying high into the air, spinning rapidly end over end like a huge example of coin currency, which some alien cultures still used for small purchases. The explosion also blew open the center of the road, revealing a buried hard sided round tunnel, located a half body-length under the pavement, which ran down the center of the street.

Sending Ragoons to inspect the holes, they reported what they found to Hitok. Two of them were gagging after opening their helmets briefly, and all three stated that the odor from the tunnels proved that they were part of a sewage system, with noxious water flowing along their bottoms.

After that, and seeing that the sewer lines were so close to the surface at the middle of the roads, he instructed his heavy Pillagers to stick to the center of the roadways, with their treads positioned to straddle the sewer lines, and thus avoid the risk of their weight collapsing the streets over the voids down their centers. They’d have to use cables from another Pillager to pull a stuck unit free.

He instructed the combat AI to ignore the metal sewer covers so they wouldn’t be pausing constantly. After that, about the only firing done along residential streets was by lasers, aimed at the occasional parked vehicles found along the streets, just in case they were booby trapped as firebombs, or with explosives. That was always done at a safe distance, and there was never a secondary explosion.

The spaceport was on the far side of the city from the side where they had approached, and they were moving steadily but carefully, with some Ragoons riding on top of the armor, and others riding in the locally confiscated open topped trucks they had found, and a few troopers dashing off to the sides to inspect places where an enemy might be concealed.

Every trooper had their plasma rifles aimed outwards, using their linked visors to share targeting data if need be. Every sixth trooper wore heavier armor with additional powered assist, and wielded either a heavy laser or a rapid fire, multi-plasma chambered automatic weapon, with preheated ceramic barrels. One out of a company of twenty, called a Foot Legion, carried a shoulder fired missile launcher, linked to their helmet visors for after launch guidance.

The Ragoon assigned the rocket launcher carried only one additional reload strapped to the back of his powered armor. However, two other troopers, assigned to protect him, each had two missile reloads on their backs. More reloads were carried on external racks of selected smaller Pillagers.

The twenty-one columns, having passed through the outer city were approaching taller structures now, some of which were residential appearing, some apparently businesses or offices. Twenty tank columns had eighteen Pillagers each, and a center twenty-first column had the command module, with six pillagers in front, and six trailing. As a group, they formed nearly a rectangular grid, moving through alternate blocks formed by streets of the city, which were not all perfectly parallel. Some of the roads conformed to the steeper rolling hills, and those main streets wove around them, and sometimes two lines of Pillagers joined for a time as streets merged, until one column split off again to follow a parallel street a block or two over, trying to maintain their spacing and common line of advance. They were two thirds of the way to the center of town, which was marked by the highest clusters of tall oddly designed buildings, which to the Ragnar had exotic, and strangely beautiful alien patterns and colors, that never repeated, as did similar tall city structures at home.

Here, there were seldom aerial connections between buildings, crossing high over the streets, as there always was in Ragnar cities. The Ragnar were surface dwellers now, but had not lost their liking for the simulated tree dwellings they once used in ancestral times, when they were smaller creatures. They had no particular fear of heights, and enjoyed the open walkways between tall buildings. They would never build such oddly shaped and differing height structurers so far apart from one another. Human cities did not remind them of primeval forests at all. You also couldn’t have crossovers between buildings with such differing heights near their tops. In a deep forest, the canopy formed by the tallest trees meant they were generally uniform in height at the crown, and they grew closer together. This provided the ancestral concept for the preference the Ragnar retained for their cities, with buildings slenderer that what humans built, seldom as tall, and placed a bit closer together with high crossovers, like thickly woven symbolic vine walkways. It was strange, the smaller simian humans seemed more monkey-like than apes, yet they displayed less interest in traveling between their buildings, far above street level.

This Ground Force had met absolutely no opposition yet, and it was worrying the hell out of both Thond and Hitok, slowing the advance in favor of caution. Not one of the other three Ground Force Groups had survived to reach more than the very edges of their target cities, and they were not attacked until there was no escape for them. Not seeing a threat now, made its absence seem all the more ominous.

Both Ragnar officers would have been more comfortable had they been forced to fight their way to this point. What in hell was wrong with this enemy?

Suddenly, their waiting was over, and they reconsidered their wish for action.

The lead Pillager of each of the Legions of the armored advance, eighteen tanks strong per Legion now, due to earlier arrival losses, simultaneously suffered explosions from underneath, caused by some sort of shaped charges, which speared through their bottom armor, and struck the drive motors on the left or right sides. The compartmentalized sections for the crew, sealed tight when in combat, saved the other two crewmembers when the spalled armor fragments and the molten penetrator metal shredded and burned the Ragnar in the breeched compartment. The tank commanders, placed highest in the turrets, were all spared, but gunners or drivers died instantly, depending on which side the mine struck.

It was only the leading units hit in each of the twenty-one columns, all of them struck from below, and all of them detonated at the same instant. Thond and Hitok both realized it had to be due to some sort of command detonated mines, but their linked sensors, fed through the combat AI in the mobile command post, had not reported anything out of the ordinary on or below the roads.

The Pillagers hit were at varying distances ahead or behind their adjacent columns by a tank length or two, so they couldn’t all have been coincidentally poised, with their front compartments exactly over a buried mine. As the surviving Pillager crews leaped out of their stalled and smoking units, a rapid series of plasma bolts from the front and sides of the units damaged tore through body armor as they tried to scramble away from their disabled tanks. A number of commanders retreated to their turrets, which was safer than being exposed to the withering fire. With only single-side drive motors operational on some units, they could try to pivot in place, pitting the thicker frontal armor against the bolts. The tank commander could remotely fire the main gun if a target presented itself.

The source of the bolts proved to be from modestly sized tracked vehicles, with a rounded drivers cab, and a larger rounded and humped back. A three barreled plasma cannon on a three hundred sixty-degree swivel mount, protruding above the large rear hump was doing most of the damage, although there was plasma rifle fire from one of two small open ports in the armor protecting the driver’s section. With three ceramic barrels, the plasma bolts alternated from each barrel in a nearly continuous stream, collimated on the same target point. The star hot plasma bolts burned through body armor as if it were foil.

The armor of a Pillager was too tough for even a half dozen such hits on a single spot to breech, but it could be done if allowed to continue. Even if no longer fully mobile, the damaged units had weapons the commander could access via his visor links. Bunker busters were the favorite weapon of any self-respecting Legion commander, and the fusion power from two power plants, one dedicated for weapons, and a smaller one for drive motors, could operate the turret motors, and the redundant electrical systems.

With surprising speed, the big guns of the crippled Pillagers were brought to bear on the crossing streets, or directly ahead, where the fast moving attacking vehicles had appeared from between buildings or side streets. Their targets were quickly ducking behind structures, where automatic tracking couldn’t see them. However, a bunker buster was designed for deep penetration of hardened targets, so all it required was a good estimate of distance to travel before detonation. Any Pillager crewmate was good at making such estimates. The ladybug drivers that didn’t learn to change speed and direction the instant they were out of sight of one of those guns might not make that same mistake twice.

The Pillagers behind those damaged were not standing still during this, and they activated lasers, plasma cannons, and Debilitater beams. The latter units had to beware of irradiating their own troops, in the event one of them had a leak in a suit radiation barrier, but friendly fire was always a hazard. The Ragoons riding on some of the armor spread out to the sides to protect their units from side attacks, and the large shoulder-fired missiles in each foot Legion were deployed forward quickly.

A number of Pillagers turned to the sides to smash through the ground floor of street-side multistoried buildings, to get out of the open, and to try to intercept those fast moving smaller, and lightly armored bug shaped irritants. The patiently waiting Hoth pilots were finally provided better targets than flying air cover for the infantry in open country, and had met no opposition thus far. This had been a purely ground conflict with a frustrating lack of direct confrontation, at least until the surprise traps had been sprung on the armored columns.

Pillagers blasted nine ladybugs that failed to change directions after ducking out of sight, turning them into bloody scrap. The body armor of the PDF drivers and gunners, with wire mesh as Debilitater radiation shields, offered no protection from rounds that could bust their way through twenty feet of ferroconcrete or plazsteel, or a foot of actual steel, and then explode.

Nearly a hundred Hoths, in flights of three, had been hanging back and circling, their stealth systems making them seem like translucent hawks, just waiting for prey to appear. They used AI interpreted guidance from visor feeds from multiple Ragoons, highlighting any ladybugs sighted, or of where they had disappeared, and the birds were swooping down for the kill. Single piloted, they were equipped with a variety of weapons. Some had rapid alternating fire from four wing mounted light plasma cannons, two per stubby wing on some models, or equipped with a large single plasma cannon under the nose. There was a high powered red laser in the nose of another model, and a version armed with a nose rail gun, firing depleted uranium slugs. All of them carried four armor-piercing missiles, two under the wings and two under the fuselage belly. The latter were capable of infrared or radar self-guidance, launched in a fire-and-forget mode once they saw their target.

Finally, the taste of actual combat seemed like a sweet dessert to the Ground Force Commander. Except, Thond had an uncomfortable feeling about how the human attack had begun. He asked Hitok a troubling question, “How did they manage to simultaneously disable only the front Pillagers of each of your twenty-one columns? They didn’t hit any others, and the blasts all came from below. Not powerful enough to lift or flip them over, but punched through their thinner bottom armor into a drive motor in either the left or right side forward compartments, killing only the driver or the main gunner. How did they do that so we didn’t detect the mines, and only to the front units?”

Hitok did a Ragnar armored suit wrist flip, as a form of a shrug. “I don’t know, but we can ask one of those creatures inside the miniature Pillagers they are using. If we can capture any of them alive. I don't want to hit any more of those mines, since they had a perfect score on disabling each one hit.”

Thond shivered the fur pattern on his armor. “That’s my concern. We didn’t have a single track blown off by a mine that was rolled over. All of them penetrated one of the two forward compartments, near the tracks, destroying a drive motor, and the crewmember in that compartment. That’s odd.” He turned to examine the images from multiple data feeds to their combat AI system.

Hitok was busy directing his Pillager’s movements, to help them herd the small enemy armored units to where the Hoths might concentrate their fire and destroy them. His sensors didn’t reveal what was now stalking the Hoths.

****

Mirikami was envious of the freedom younger Kobani troopers had, to expose themselves to risks, which he was told in definite and harsh terminology from a higher authority, that he wasn’t allowed to accept for himself.

He continued his argument, appealing to that implacable higher authority. “Maggi, it’s safe. I can do that as well as anyone can.”

“Sure, and if a tank driver sneezes or suddenly changes direction, we’ll find our top commander and best strategist looking like a crushed can of tomatoes. I may not outrank you, but I damn well can make you regret trying to turn me into a young widow.”

He thoughtlessly reminded her, “You’re a hundred seventeen!” The instant he blurted that out, he knew it was a tactical mistake.

With cold radiating from her pretty, rejuvenated pixie-like features, she offered a reminder of her own. “With our indefinite Prada style lifespans, I’ll have centuries to make you regret that charming remark, my dear.”

Sarge, always helpful, made thoughtful suggestions, “Tet, why don’t you just take off your armor, drop your pants, step outside and moon the first Pillager you see? That’s the most merciful idea after that blunder. Or, would you like a friend to shoot you out of kindness?”

A cold glance from Maggi’s piercing blue eyes shut him up and erased his cheerful grin. He said, “I think I’ll go ask how many more of the limpet mines the PDF has. They were my idea so I really should do that. I’ll go right now in fact.” He left the PDF command center hurriedly.

Colonel Gaffigan, unaware how often such harmless heated sounding discussions occurred between the amazingly young looking petite diplomat and her equally youthful appearing husband, tried a diversion. “Captain Mirikami, there could have been mines placed under all of their tanks. Why didn’t you just blow them all up at the same time? Obviously, the Ragnar can’t detect them before driving over them. Why prolong the fight?”

Maggi, her demeanor immediately pleasant again, explained a strategy that had actually been her idea, and not her husband’s, although Sarge had proposed using the marine mines. “Colonel, we want to subvert the Ragnar to our side, not destroy them. They have great admiration for valor, and as a people, they literally couldn’t accept a crushing military defeat at our hands. They would prefer to die fighting. If they lost here, to what their Thandol masters consider to be a weak new subservient species, they would be unlikely to continue as an armed security force for the Empire.”

Forgetting how volatile the woman could be, Gaffigan got hot under his collar. “I don't give a damn about their future. I want Tanner’s to stay independent.”

She nodded. “We do too. For you and for ourselves. That’s why we left our worlds completely undefended and came here to help you. However, we know we can’t beat the entire massive Thandol navy alone. Hell, colonel, this one Rim World colony has a higher human population than does the entire Federation! Lucky for us, the Empire doesn’t know that.

“We also know the Empire can’t hold onto and control our worlds, and exact centuries of taxes and productivity from the Federation, without the use of ground forces like the Ragnar provide. But they can certainly destroy our cities and cripple our industries from space. For us Kobani, they can easily kill us with even weak level Debilitater radiation if we aren’t in shielded armor. Our civilians, and our combat forces for that matter, can’t live their entire lives in armor, wire mesh lined clothing, or inside faraday cages. We need help to win a war against the Empire, and it’s not certain if the PU will join with us before it’s too late for our own survival. Even with them helping, we can’t match the Thandol’s primary navy.

“Their Emperor has at least five times as many ships as the Federation does, which the Thandol directly control. Each of the three security forces of the empire has about two thirds as many ships as we Kobani do. You saw most of the Ragnar fleet strength overhead, which we were able to drive off only by using our entire fleet. But, as you’ve noticed, we don’t have the ground forces or equipment to kick their ass off your planet. Only the PU has that sort of capability. Your people did a remarkable job of deception and ambushing them, before they knew enough about us as an enemy. You showed them they could never afford to underestimate any humans, from anywhere.

“Now, we want to convince the Ragnar here to withdraw honorably, with what they have left of their force. From the two prisoners of theirs we captured previously in Empire space, we estimate this is only a fraction of the troops and ground assault forces the Ragnar have in reserves, spread around their security sector in the Empire.”

Gaffigan shook his head. “What the hell will letting them escape here do for us, or for you? They could reorganize and come back.”

She answered him frankly. “Possibly. Except, by showing them what we can do in a fight, and by building trust, we might convince them, and by extension the other two security forces who don’t like the Thandol either, to revolt against the Empire when we attack from the outside. Together, we might fragment the empire into three mutually antagonistic regions, and push the Thandol out of power. The three security forces have no love for each other, and I’m confident they would not unite against us, although they may fight internally, or against us individually.”

“Why would the Thandol’s allied forces do that on behalf of the Federation, or for Human Space? They don’t owe us loyalty, and gratitude doesn’t last long if we help them win. One or more of them would come after us eventually, I’d think.”

“I agree, but we’d gain more time to get ready for them. Anyway, the Thandol defeated the Ragnar thousands of years ago, and our Mind Taps of the prisoners reveal they still have a deep racial resentment of their masters. They want revenge, and to regain control of their own destiny. We want them as an ally of convenience against the greater threat, the Thandol.”

“How are you going to convince the other two security forces to cooperate with you? It sounds like you need them all on our side.”

She smiled. “One step at a time Colonel, one step at a time. The first step is to let the Ragnar get out of here without a politically destructive total defeat. I want to try to strike a balance, to let them save face, and retain as much strength as possible, which they will need when the time comes to revolt against the Empire. I have to engineer a truce, not their surrender.”

“A Truce! Well, I just sent a two hundred of my troops out in a hundred ladybugs, up against over three hundred sixty of those big frigging tanks, with barely ten thousand PDF soldiers against their hundred eighty thousand or so. I’m going to put the other hundred bugs you brought in service, as soon as we get them unloaded, and teach my people the basics of using them.

“I also appreciate the twenty thousand Kobani troops you brought along; I really do, but good luck getting the enemy to agree to a damned truce. I don't see them accepting one, not the way things are going, unless you wipe out the rest of their armor, their space planes, Stranglers, and those three hundred or so surviving landers. Then we have to figure out how to stop that hundred and eighty thousand soldiers in body armor. Even if we do that, Tanner’s has suffered a considerable loss of resources, and not a few lives. The death count will go up the longer we fight. I can’t keep our civilians ahead of them for much longer.

“Colonel, have you ever fought alongside a Kobani force?”

“No, I only heard the tall tales from a few troops that saw them in action when they were fighting on Poldark and New Dublin.”

“Not all of those are fabrications. Today, you’ll get to see what genetically enhanced humans can do, wearing fancy schmancy alien designed stealthed armor, and how valuable Mind Taps can be.

****

The sharp-eyed Flight Leader of the three Hoths, flying between the oddly unique and colorful tall buildings of the human city, had spotted a small human plasma gun cart, just as it swerved around a corner of a large building after a slashing attack run. His console ground link indicated it had just fired on a Debilitater equipped Pillager. The main combat AI reported the armored unit’s transmitting antenna was destroyed, eliminating its most effective anti-personnel weapon. The human gun crew, although fully within the focused beam when the antenna was disabled, had obviously been shielded and unaffected by the radiation.

Captain Jastal issued rapid instructions. “Flight Leader to wings, follow me in trail. I saw where a mobile gun cart fled. I’ll use plasma, wing one use laser, wing two your railgun. I want blood and guts in our wake.”

The leader pulled farther ahead, and several blocks later signaled the turn and swooped left to pass between two high buildings that towered above them on either side, wing one close on his tail, with rookie wing two’s pilot lagging a bit, thus demonstrating why he held that lower wing number status. This strange city was actually easier to navigate at low altitudes than training in a Ragnar city would be, where there were many pedestrian crossovers between buildings at random levels. The surface boulevards at home were narrower between their closer set, slender, and uniformly dark shaded buildings.

The humans liked multi-height tall buildings, with varied colors and textures, differently shaped decorative details, and were set much wider apart than the Ragnar preferred to build. It was easier to navigate along their wider boulevards, but it was alien, exotically attractive, and a distracting place to fly. Despite seeming to like spacious wide gaps between their structures, humans appeared to shun the longer narrow walkways placed up high between the buildings, which the Ragnar found so exhilarating when they looked down. At least the Hoth pilots didn’t have to worry about as many unexpected obstructions in their paths, particularly above the fifth level of human buildings, as they turned at the wider and easier to make corners. They habitually kept their speed the same as in their training at home, close to three hundred miles per hour this low (in equivalent human units), so formation holding could stay tight.

The speeding flight was now four blocks beyond the cross street where the ladybug had turned the first corner. If that crew followed the newly learned attack and retreat patterns seen today, they would soon turn right, directly away from their last target, staying between Pillager columns. That helped them avoid possible bunker buster rounds, which could pass through the flimsy civilian construction.

The flight leader gave curt instructions as they approached the street where he expected to see their target headed towards them after their left turn. “Next left, accelerate and use down-step. Fire on acquisition. They shoot back fast.”

The down-step formation was merely a matter of wing one descending below the flight leader, and wing two lower than wing one and fly closer to the surface, providing all three Hoths with simultaneous clear firing lanes straight ahead. Presumably, the much slower ladybug would be continuing up the first block after its right turn, visible in all of their gun sights, caught between the tall buildings and in the open.

It made for another good kill zone, but they’d used all of their missiles on five other attempts on gun carts, killing four before one escaped. However, the enemy tri-barrel would be firing medium power plasma bolts back at them, and those gunners could quickly shift targets. From group experience gained today, they knew the driver also could fire a plasma rifle through a small forward port, less accurate and a slower firing rate but apparently visor aided, so that a bolt was automatically released precisely when a target was in-line after the trigger pull.

Like every weapon except the rail gun projectiles, the time of travel for energy weapons was speed of light for laser, and microscopically slower for a plasma bolt. Even a rail gun slug, fired from a half-mile distance, arrived faster than most organisms could react.

The Hoth, like most space planes that were also designed for atmospheric combat, had stubby sweptback wings, an armored and reflective slender nose, which was as much for deflecting energy beams as for aerodynamics. The Ragnar used a triple Tachyon Trap system, because they always launched from space, outside of a deep gravity well, and carried three tachyons with them for redundancy, providing energy to their reactionless Normal Space Drive, weapons, and system and sensor power. They had no reaction mass or thrusters at all, and if low on energy, they had to climb out of the gravity well to use their traps to snare new tachyons, or land and be humiliated when a support tug recovered them.

Flight Leader Captain Jastal sharply snapped his left wing down for aerodynamic assistance on the final left turn, but the Normal Space Drive did most of the work, his flight suit helping keep him conscious and mentally sharp as the g forces pressed him into his seat, greatful he didn’t need to use his limbs for this computer controlled maneuver. He instantly sighted his prey, moving up the roadway three blocks ahead. His below the nose plasma cannon had very limited movement for aiming capability, in order to maintain a smooth slipstream, and relied on a flight control system to align the nose for most of the targeting, which is why we was in a shallow and accelerating descent towards the target. He knew his trailing wing mates would be nearly in-line with him, but lower as they rolled out of their turns.

He visually shifted his airframe to place the targeting pip over the enemy gun cart, and authorized automatic firing when that happened. The gun cart’s tri-barrel was already firing as he rolled out to wings level, as if the gunner had expected this attack. The enemy cart was swerving hard to its left, skidding on its tracks, away from the flight’s turns, forcing the Flight Leader to compensate back to his right. Actinic blue bolts were streaming towards him, but they shifted lower as they fired at one or both of his wing mates below and behind him. A smaller dimmer bolt unexpectedly glanced off the Hoth’s nose, apparently from the cart driver’s lower powered plasma rifle. The brilliant spray of sparks as the bolt fragmented across his canopy startled him, and he was slow to complete his shift right to realign his pip. Wing one’s computer aimed laser found the target first, but wing two’s slugs, their rear infrared tracer lights showing their path to his visor, were off to the side of the gun cart, aimed nearly down the center of the street where the cart had just been. Jastal could tell the first rounds would miss. A sloppy beginning, for him and his rookie.

Then, as wing one’s mirror directed laser locked on and followed the gun cart’s movements, the situation became confusing, and suddenly turned bad.

From a point at the center of the street, well behind the enemy gun cart, which was now careening towards a plazsteel multi-door entry into the building on its left, appeared a fuzzy swirl of motion in the air, close to the ground. It was a pair of tight vortices, with parallel horizontal axes that extended well behind the leading swirls, which was approaching rapidly.

That momentary distraction ended when Jastal saw the flash of fresh bolts from the gun cart, but they weren’t directed at his flight. The enemy gunner had blasted apart the ground floor entrance doors to the skyscraper, to create an escape route from the open street. Not about to let this target evade destruction, the flight leader shifted slightly right to place his targeting pip where wing one’s laser was burning and heating the side of the lightly armored gun cart. The energy beam’s target point created an easy lock-on for the infrared flight control targeting system, quickly swinging the airframe slightly for an optimum plasma cannon shot. Unlike the laser, he’d only need one hit for his powerful bolt to penetrate the armor.

Just as the pip was swinging onto the hot spot, with an automatic fire command previously enabled, Jastal felt a violent shudder and a saw a flash to his left, and his Hoth slewed sharply right as the stubby left wing ceased its aerodynamic drag on that side. His bolt still fired, but it struck the building in front of the gun cart as the Hoth pivoted right, even as the automatic flight system used the Normal Space drive to turn away from a collision against the same building.

Jastal glanced to the side to see that his entire left wing was gone. He thus never saw the following depleted uranium, tungsten tipped rail gun projectiles coming, which punched through his narrow tapered windscreen, tearing through his chest. That contact started a tumbling action of the projectiles that shredded his Normal Space drive and ripped off part of his tail assembly from the inside. His Hoth became a deadly airborne collection of metal and ceramic, still headed towards the gun cart, which escaped through the blasted entryway just before the space plane ruined some of the display windows of the ground floor department store.

Wing two, his target lost for the automatic tracker system as the cart vanished, was dazzled by the disintegration of the Flight Leader’s Hoth ahead and above him, and barely avoided the debris as he dipped under the separating tail assembly. Eyes directed upward, he didn’t notice the swift passage of the twin vortices just below his own Hoth. Wing 2, flying below and behind him, was only twenty feet above the street, his attention still focused on correcting aim with his railgun. The building walls would easily yield to his heavy high velocity projectiles, and he could yet kill the target that his more experienced flight mates had missed. Wing two, above him, initially blocked his view of the fate of the Flight Leader, and the nearly head on vortices were less apparent to him, without the advantage of height to see their motion along the street. They were relatively level points of translucent air turbulence from his vantage point, and he wasn’t looking that direction anyway.

The swirls in the air became instantly more apparent to him when they suddenly rose sharply in front of his Hoth, passing very closely over top of him, between him and wing one. The severe turbulence pushed his craft downwards the fifteen feet that separated him from the street. His Normal Space drive reacted quickly, at least enough to prevent a nose down impact with the road, but it couldn’t stop the bone jarring impact of the Hoth’s belly with the pavement, and the drive was stressed to the maximum to slow his three hundred mile per hour sparking skid along the street. He was painfully thrown into his seat restraints by the bruising deceleration and impact with the street.

Dazed, and not sure what had happened, he called to the Flight Leader, just as the debris from that higher flying Hoth smashed into the building to his right. Lacking any flammable fuel onboard, there were sparks, and sprays of debris, but no explosion. The craft’s fusion bottle core wasn’t ruptured, and that dense item ripped free of the wreckage and spun down the pedestrian walkway at the base of the building. He saw colorfully dressed humans, standing oddly still, looking out of the building’s wide windows at the violence and destruction outside, apparently unconcerned for their safety. The mannequins were completely indifferent to the events outside.

Lieutenant Kranfa, the pilot of wing two answered his radio call. “Derkat, get out and run towards the Pillagers. Jastal is dead, and the enemy gun cart survived. It will be hunting for you. Move fast, and I’ll cover you if they expose themselves. I’m looping back towards you, over the top of the buildings.” He knew his wing mate’s visor could see his craft’s silhouette, even with its stealth activated. “I’ll come back down the street from the same direction, slow and quiet from behind you, and wait for them.”

Blowing his canopy free, and bashing the central release disk on his chest, his multi-point seat restraints retracted, and Derkat leaped from the cockpit, only a body length above the pavement. The higher than typical gravity hurt his feet when his boots smacked harder than expected on the pavement.

Using his visor’s com system, as he drew a laser side arm and started running towards their advancing line of Pillagers, he asked, “What happened to Captain Jastal? What was that swirl of air that forced me down?”

“His Hoth disintegrated. I don't know what happened to him since the gun cart wasn’t firing at us anymore. What swirl of air do you mean?”

Looking over his shoulder, back where he could hear scraping and clattering sounds, well behind where his crashed Hoth had slid to a halt, he saw motion as the human gun cart appeared and paused, just inside the shelter of the smashed entry way. If he could see them, the gunner could see him. He quickly angled to his left to put his wrecked Hoth between him and the gun cart. Not that this solved his long-term problem. He couldn’t keep moving down the street and keep his Hoth between them, and they could easily blast away the cover his wrecked Hoth offered anyway. He explained his predicament to wing one.

“I’m slowing to a hover behind and above them. Link your visor to mine, so I’ll be able to triangulate and site them through the building and fire my laser at them. I can burn through the walls and levels above them if they don’t back away.”

“Understood. But watch out for that same turbulence. I see it above and well behind you, coming our way.” As he watched it move in the empty sky, he zoomed his visor’s view towards the disturbance. His experience in watching Hoth flight training suddenly told him what it was, and what he wasn’t seeing.

“Kranfa, that’s a pair of atmospheric wing tip vorticities, they have better stealth than we do. Climb and get out of here.” What was missing was the stealthed enemy aircraft that was making the twin horizontal vortices.

It was almost in time. Rather than try to flee, accelerating from a near motionless hover with an enemy already on his tail, the Hoth spun in place, and fired his laser wildly, as he strove to see what the linked visor image of his wing mate saw. The incoming plasma bolts, originating just in front of and below the twin tornadoes, blew the tail off the hovering Hoth as it pivoted in place. The craft started to drop tail first from less than fifty feet, and luck accomplished what skill had failed to do. The laser beam cut along the bottom of the fuselage of the incoming Shadow, hitting one of the Trap emitters, opening its single Trap and freeing the tachyon back into Tachyon Space, killing the power source for the gravitational Normal Space Drive.

The Shadow suddenly popped into view, since its stealth also relied on that power source, and revealed itself as a silvery reflective and aerodynamic dart of a space plane. Its large fusion bottle, which provided power to weapons and electrical systems, instantly switched to supply a short burst of energy to the Normal Space Drive. It wasn’t enough to fly the plane, but the craft slowed almost impossibly fast to a crawl and settled roughly to the pavement. It came to rest less than fifty feet behind where wing two fell, which had stuck the roadway rear end first, which absorbed some of the impact as it crumpled, and then flopping flat as the nose came down hard. A series of less than graceful landings for such agile birds.

Derkat, torn between his survival urge, and a desire to try to pull his comrade from the cockpit, compromised and ran back towards his own plane, using it as a shield from the gun cart. All he had was his laser pistol, but he’d do his best to cover his wing mate if he was able to exit his wrecked craft. “Kranfa, are you able to get out?” A helmet icon showed he was alive.

“I hurt my back, but I can move well enough. I released my restraints. Where’s that falgrat that shot me down, and that stinking gun cart. At least I have some protection from its plasma bolts for a short time, until the enemy fighter returns.”

“You didn’t see? You hit and damaged it as you fell out of the sky. It lost stealth and power and crash landed in the street just beyond you. I can see you both.”

Looking out the side of his canopy, Kranfa expressed his surprise. “Hoot!” The pant-hoot was his reaction to seeing movement from the sleek enemy craft. “You’re right, but the pilot’s not dead, the canopy just opened.”

Derkat saw that as well, but there appeared to be no one inside the cockpit. Then a black and white set of body armor rippled into view standing next to the plane, with a helmet spotted with blue glowing spots on its front. It was truly alien looking, but had the approximate proportions of a human. The Hoth pilots wore slimmed down versions of standard Ragoon body armor, with less thick armor, and no stealth coating. The two Ragnar looked twice as large as did the alien pilot. Neither of them understood why it had deactivated suit stealth, which was as effective as that of its space plane. It seemed a needless loss of advantage, as if it didn’t need the help.

Derkat said, “It’s walking towards you, and I don't see a weapon in either hand. I’ll see how well its suit holds up against a laser pistol.” From partial concealment at the side of his Hoth, he brought up his laser pistol, which had electronic sights linked to his visor. He never managed to bring the gun level with his target, who’s helmeted head was facing directly at him.

His pistol suddenly became impossibly too hot to hold, even with his pilot’s gauntlets for protection. In fact, his Debilitater radiation shielded gauntlets were also burning hot. He dropped the weapon, then twisted and ripped off the hot wire mesh glove with his other hand, shaking his burned hand rapidly, as he frantically tried to cool his fingers and knuckles.

The small armored figure had never moved its hands from its sides. The heated hand cooled instantly with the glove off, and he looked down at the dropped weapon, thinking to pick it up again. Abruptly, a green colored laser shot from one of the blue circles on the helmeted head, and turned the pistol into slag as he leaped back. Other than a survival knife strapped to his leg and a long bladed slashing or chopping tool in a survival kit, just inside a panel on the other side of his Hoth, he was unarmed. He’d have to expose himself to the gun cart to get to the survival kit. He was truly doomed if the human, if that’s what it was, used that same laser to see how well his light pilot’s armor could protect him.

The strange figure made a waving gesture towards where the gun crew must be, probably speaking to them by radio. Then it walked quickly towards wing one’s wreckage.

“It’s coming your way.” Derkat warned. “It has a medium power laser mounted in its helmet, and it used some energy beam I couldn’t see, to burn my hand and force me to drop my side arm. It could have killed me, but it didn’t. It fused my pistol instead.”

“I saw the trace of the green beam. It doesn’t have to use its hands to shoot. I’m not opening my canopy. I set it for vacuum seal status and the outside release won’t work. I have my pistol out and if it takes a look inside, I’ll put a beam right in the center of its helmet, and see how tough it is.”

When the figure reached the side of the Damaged Hoth, it seemed to be reading the simple guides printed there in Ragnar script. As evidence it could read what it saw, it reached up and pressed in, to reveal a recessed release where the manual canopy catch was placed. Then it pressed inward and up so hard with its right hand that, incredibly, the extremely heavy fuselage rocked more than a foot to the side. It didn’t work of course, since the canopy seal was set to protect the pilot from vacuum or noxious fumes.

Without trying that release again, it didn’t attempt to climb up, by using the small door panel that concealed a foot insert, which would let it peek over the lower rim of the canopy. Instead, it raised its right hand, forming a fist, and smashed down at the midpoint of the right side of the canopy. It couldn’t shatter the transparent armor, but incredibly, it did crack. That form fitting slender body armor certainly had considerably greater powered assist than even Ragoon heavy battle armor, and the material of the gauntleted knuckles must be extremely hard to crack the canopy on the first blow. A second blow was answered with a red laser beam that shot through the canopy, only slightly attenuated and dispersed by the expanded web of cracks.

The beam had hit the armored forearm, but there was no reaction other than the figure stepping back and appearing to study the situation. It walked to where the lump of a small actuator motor housing had scattered from the rear of the craft, when it fell onto its tail. It picked up the hunk, easily tore some control cables away, and tested its solid heft with a slight one handed toss. Walking back to the side of the cockpit, standing several body lengths away, it leaned back slightly, cocked its right arm, and in a blur of motion too fast to follow, hurled the motor casing at the side of the canopy, striking it exactly where the star of cracks was from its fist blow. The canopy shattered, and the motor continued on, only slightly deflected, as it passed all the way through the spray of armored canopy debris.

The figure then moved forward and ducked below the curvature of the cabin section, where the pilot couldn’t aim his laser pistol without being extremely exposed. For the first time, it spoke loudly enough for both pilots to hear, using an external suit speaker. Incredibly, the words were in somewhat stilted and overly formal words, but easily understandable Fotrol, the Ragnar language,

“You are brave and skilled opponents, and I have no desire to cause your needless deaths. If we can speak together, and if you will listen to what I have to say, I offer you my life vow that I will guard your return to your Ground Force Commander unharmed. My leaders want you to take an offer of an honorable truce back to him, with additional details to be discussed and negotiated while that truce is in effect.

“If no agreement can be reached, our combat will resume. As a token of our good faith and sincerity, I am authorized to demonstrate to you two how we destroyed your twenty-one lead Pillagers of each of your columns. We could have destroyed many more of them, but that would not serve what we believe is of mutual benefit to both of our species. My craft, called a Shadow, is a similar atmospheric capable spacecraft like your Hoths, and I was able to win against a flight of three of you, even though I fought alone. Similar fights are now being conducted against nearly the entire one hundred Hoths that accompanied the infantry and Pillagers attacking this city. We cannot permit you to destroy our allies, who live on this world.

“I am not from here, and my people are a variation of the human species, called the Kobani. Our ability should not be underestimated by you. We are the people that drove your fleet away. Returning to your Ground Force Commander with word of our equivalent fighters, having better stealth than yours, is at least worth the value of listening to me.

From the cockpit above, Kranfa proved he had been listening so far. “Why would you have anything to discuss with us under a truce. We came here to conquer your world.”

“Because the Galactic Federation and the Ragnar each want to see the Thandol removed as leaders of the Empire. The Ragnar could be one of the victors in that fight, with our help, and rule the sector of space where you now provide security for them. And I repeat, this is not my world, and it is not part of the Galactic Federation, although it is a human settled world with its own free government. My people came here to help them resist an attack by the Empire, but we did not expect it to be entirely conducted by the Ragnar. We had hoped to destroy one of the Thandol Fleets, not yours.”

“You did not destroy our fleet, it withdrew.”

“We held back to allow it to escape largely intact, and we let it send down supplies for the Ground Forces. Without that fleet, your people could not oppose the Emperor when the time comes. May I speak with you face to face? You will not be more at risk than you are now. I could ask the crew of the ladybug you were trying to destroy to kill you both. They are citizens of this world, and they would cheerfully send plasma bolts through your charred remains. They do not understand what we are saying, and I’m sure they wish I would move away so they could kill you both.”

Kranfa didn’t want his next words to be misunderstood. “My speaking with you here is not a truce with my Group commander or with our Force Commander, and I cannot speak for my wing mate.” He shouted to be heard. “Derkat, have you heard what we have said?”

“Yes.”

“I offer to speak with it, and take what is learned to our two commanders. Do you agree to listen to the proposal with me? If you refuse this offer, I will stand with you and we will die fighting together.” It sounded noble, but he knew the rookie wanted to live to fight another day, as did he, and that Derkat had nothing but a knife for waging a hopeless gunfight.

His reply was expected. “I think we should take what we learn back with us. How can we do that?”

Carol Slobovic grinned inside her helmet. They had already told her something Maggi very much wanted to know. He’d mentioned two commanders. Force Commander Thond, the head of the Ragnar security forces, was still here!

She removed her helmet so the unarmed pilot could see her face. With him reporting what she had done, she shouted to the ladybug crew in Standard, telling them to complete their escape, and using hand motions to support that. She told them she was holding an opening negotiation to meet with their leaders, to call for a truce. When they were safely around the corner up the street, she worked out the details of how they could come face to face for a talk. Perhaps Maggi would let her participate in the full discussions, if those happened.

****

Even while the first steps were initiated to start a discussion, which might or might not lead to a truce, Tanner’s PDF used some of the smart mortar shells they had acquired after the Krall war, from surplus stockpiles removed from Poldark. These were a smaller variation of anti-personnel artillery rounds used against the Krall, fired from long-range guns in that war.

At between four and six feet above ground, the mortar bombs would blast apart a ten-inch-high cylinder, containing one hundred tungsten-carbide sabot style slugs, stacked in a circular pattern, ten rings high with ten short rifled tubes per ring. The slugs would be violently launched down the rifled tubes by a core explosive creating a blast wave when the shell detonated, which rapidly destroyed the cylinder of tubes behind the escaping slugs, forming added shrapnel. A thin plastic sheath spun the slugs as they passed through the rifled tubes propelled by the blast, then the miniature sabots fell away as the now spin stabilized, and nearly diamond hard slender slugs tore through nearly anything they hit, followed by the shrapnel that came behind.

The bulk of the foot Ragoons advanced with the Pillagers, and stayed close to the buildings for cover. They guarded against any effort by an enemy force to get behind or to the sides of a pillager unnoticed, for conducting an attack on the weaker points of the tanks. They were unprepared for PDF forces that simply hand dropped the mortar bombs on the infantry, from windows in the high buildings, located many stories above them. There was no sound to warn them the rounds were coming. The PDF troops had removed the explosive charges that normally launched them out of their tubes. They hand activated the ground detection sensors, normally done by the acceleration when the shell was fired from a tube, which triggered detonation when they neared the ground.

Ragnar body armor was a bit superior to the best Krall armor at deflecting slugs and shrapnel, but it wasn’t impervious to a sabot that struck the armor straight on. And the Ragnar troopers lacked the Krall ability to ignore pain and injury, or quickly self-heal and halt blood flow. Their suits did have limited medical capability for that, but they relied on the equivalent of a corpsman, driving a mechanized ambulance equipped with automated emergency surgery bots, and a system of artificial hibernation pods to sedate ten stabilized wounded troopers, for later medical treatment aboard a Pounder, where a full medical suite and doctors would be available.

When the small bombs started exploding above sidewalks by the dozens, near buildings next to Pillagers, the uninjured troops guarding the Pillagers were forced to enter the buildings to try to root out the bomb droppers, which slowed the progress of the columns. The PDF made use of an emergency evacuation system for all of the tall buildings, which wouldn’t be evident to the aliens. They opened marked panels and slid into one of the many angled shafts in every corridor, which spaced and fed them into multiple freefall vertical tubes. A computer used gravity control to slow and spread them out, routing them into multiple deceleration tubes under the buildings, where gravity reversal and air cushions slowed them to a stop, well below street level. There, they entered automated people mover trains, or used fast moving slidewalks to move on to other buildings, blocks ahead of the Pillager columns, where other modified mortar bombs were being prepositioned. They were bleeding and slowing the movement of all of the columns.

The dragon killer rockets were risky to use on the sturdier Pillagers. The tanks had nearly impenetrable front armor, and their reactive rear and side armor rendered the small rockets useless against those. Their massive turrets couldn’t be lifted off their rings, or even immobilized as could those smaller ones on the Krall white ceramic-coated mini-tanks. The small high explosive rockets worked well enough on the Debilitater units, eliminating that weapon’s antennas before they could be used on the civilian population.

A day and a half earlier, the fleeing civilians had taken advantage of excellent public and personal transportation, managing to stay ahead of the armored columns. The large Pillagers with the big smoothbore guns that could fire the bunker buster shells, proved to have a slight vulnerability to the small but powerful little Dragon killer rockets.

Four of that largest class of tank, traversing their turrets side to side, always looking for potential targets, encountered brave, or foolish, PDF soldiers who were stationed on lower floors of the tall downtown buildings. With the precision aim provided via their visors, these gutsy troopers let the big gun’s traverse until they were practically looking down the nearly five-inch or 126 mm muzzles. The self-steering rockets still couldn’t blow off the turrets, or even detonate the shockproof explosives in already loaded shells, which were normally a bunker buster or a kinetic armor-penetrating depleted uranium slender sabot shell, or whatever type was loaded. However, it damn well meant the big gun wouldn’t fire again until its barrel was replaced. Unfortunately, for one of the four brave troopers, the secondary medium powered laser on the same turret was the one that was actually ready to fire. The Pillager’s commander or gunner quickly avenged the big gun’s loss.

The dragon killers also made certain none of the three crewmembers in a mechanized unit ever opened a top hatch (again) once they entered the city. The eighteen-inch long, self-guided, ultra-fast missiles could zip through a two-inch-wide opening from a quarter mile away in about a second. While that was fatal for the careless crewmember, in combat the sealed compartmentalized fighting sections left the Pillager largely operational, if shorthanded and in need of a messy clean out.

After the trailing mechanized units worked their way past the disabled leading twenty-one Pillagers destroyed initially, a hurried check under the damaged units revealed there was one small penetrating blast marks under them, directly below the front personnel compartments, with a half-inch hole burned through the armored composite, which included dense depleted uranium plates. A faint, head sized ring around each burn area, suggested a wider disk had been present on the metal hull at the time of detonation, and some of the escaping hot gasses left their mark as the disc was disintegrated. There was no clue as to how the disks got there, and there was only non-magnetic dust found under them, with wider burns on the pavement from the back blasts. Thond held up the columns while all of the Pillager bottoms were checked, with nothing found by direct hand sweeps, or seen visually.

After that, they proceeded more cautiously through the city, encountering the ladybugs that took random pot shots at the smaller Pillagers, at stolen human trucks, or clusters of careless Ragoons that forgot their combat zone discipline in the city, clustering together to make an irresistible target from the highly mobile gun crews.

The Hoths were reporting significant losses, but only when they went hunting the gun cart crews. The same was true when a Strangler advanced on the city, and came under relentless missile, plasma, and railgun fire from a nearby but unseen airborne enemy, which left swirling air in their wake. It wasn’t a large enough turbulence wake to be from one of the human’s larger and stealthed spacecraft, nor was the power of the weapons used as great. In fact, they seemed to be similar in scale to their own Hoths. It was as if an invisible protector in the sky attacked only when a Hoth or a Strangler represented a threat to the few ground defenders. It was an oddly restrained method of attack, and had both Thond and Hitok scratching their rumps in a Ragnar display of confusion. Previously they had wiped out three tank forces in massive, non-traditional ambushes.

Very few of the Hoth flights, once engaged with this mysterious airborne defender, returned to the swarm of those circling and waiting for an assignment. The harried pilots, while in combat, reported some things that seemed improbable for a human operated stealthed craft to do, just before communications were lost with the reporting pilot. Reports of impossibly hard and agile turns, sudden rapid stops in midflight, or bursts of acceleration suggested the craft were stealthed robot fighters. Although, that would require a highly flexible organic level of decision making, which had not been demonstrated by any AI system previously encountered in fights with the Federation.

Unseen, as the Pillagers advanced more cautiously than before, empty-handed Kobani in stealthed armor stepped off the curbs into the street. The Pillagers obligingly stayed in the center of the roads, straddling the sewer lines to avoid collapsing them. When the tank had passed, the invisible Kobani rose and moved away.

The Pillager surveillance systems, feeding visual and infrared images or magnetic anomalies to the combat AI in the mobile Command Post, repeatedly reported what the AI now considered innoxious manhole covers, having a familiar design pattern on each. AI’s not only lacked a sense of humor, they weren’t very imaginative either.

****

A day earlier, it had been Sergeant Reynolds, a long-time purveyor of dirty tricks and ambush tactics, who had carried a bag of what the PDF had decided were useless limpet mines out of their armory storage room to the street. He was trying to figure out a way to use a maritime floating mine against a landlubber tank.

The mines were hollow around their rims for flotation, and just light enough to float in water at preselected or changing programmable depths, by adjusting the water displacement of their rim collars. They would attach themselves magnetically to a passing ship or submersible metallic craft, provided the object didn’t broadcast the sonic pattern to keep the mines inert. The limpets had an active chameleon pattern and coloration coating, which would closely match whatever it contacted.

Reynolds laid one of them on the pavement on a lane stripe, and watched a matching white stripe appear on its top side, although the half-inch high circular edges made it visible on one side, because of a thin shadow at that edge, depending on where the sun or source of light was positioned.

He walked over to a nearby sewer cover, and saw what he was looking for in the raised embedded pattern on its surface. The city’s sewage department had a logo placed inside a center circle, which had a diameter only a quarter inch wider than the disk of the mine. Placing the flat base of the limpet on the center of the cover, it replicated the color of the metal, and a representation of the lettering and company insignia underneath it appeared on the top surface.

Internally, its slightly rounded smooth topside held a series of quarter inch thick concentric rings inside, forming bands of high-energy explosive charges. When triggered, the mine used rapid multi-staged detonations from the outside in, to feed sandwiched rings of copper alloy in a disk towards the center of the mine. There, the now molten metal, in a state of superplasiticity, met in the void of the final shaped charge, where the most intense detonation shaped the blob into an incandescent molten spear that burst from the center of its flat base. That so-called spear could burn through and penetrate multiple stacked plates of solid armor.

Reynolds noted that the mine was indistinguishable from the color of the manhole cover, and if centered, it had a reasonable facsimile on its top of the cover’s logo pattern, including normal wear and tear scratches and blemishes. He tested the concealment effect on a half dozen unsuspecting PDF troopers, who on casual glances all failed to notice the slightly thicker object with the familiar logo on the manhole cover.

When he explained his idea to Colonel Gaffigan, the officer was dismissive. “The mine will only activate to attach to a magnetic material if it’s floating in water, and even then it must be within a foot and a half or less of the magnetic surface.”

Sarge, lifting the mine, and careful to avoid arming the device, used a test feature along the edge, and activated the non-metallic electrical super conductors that its internal power used to magnetize the mine, as well as power the circuits that controlled detonation. He let the device clamp solidly to the manhole cover’s center, attached so tightly it could be used to lift the heavy disk. At least it could when his Kobani muscle powered suit fingers got a grip on the half-inch edge of the limpet.

Gaffigan offered additional discouragement. “Sarge, we already thought of trying this, you know. Placing the mines base side up directly on the streets, or on these metal covers, made them more noticeable because of the slight dome of the tops. For the hell of it, we command detonated one when it was magnetically stuck to a cover, upside down, the opposite way of the one you have there. The flat base side is what should be in flush contact with the target when detonated.

“Even if they aren’t detected visually, the strong magnetic field from an active mine in front of a tank will surely be detectable if it’s already on. Nevertheless, using command detonation, the trial explosions still propelled the slender molten spear of metal up at the test target. However, we barely even damaged the thinner bottom armor of a spare ladybug chassis. We placed one over an upside down mine on the street, only a foot and a half above the mine. Its magnet didn’t pull it up to attach from that distance, and a Pillager’s bottom is even higher.

“We also laid one on a manhole cover for better pattern concealment. It was stuck to that cover when magnetized, so it couldn’t possibly jump up to attach. The thicker bottom armor I expect on their tanks is located at least two and a half feet high, and it isn’t going to be punctured if a ladybug’s bottom wasn’t. I’m telling you, the mine has to be in contact, with its bottom side flat against the tank. That can’t be done if it’s already magnetically stuck to that cover.”

Sarge thought for a moment, and then made a proposal. “Haul that spare ladybug out of the Amory, and place it over this manhole, with the inert mine lying right on the center, just like it is now. And I do mean don’t detonate it before I say so. I’ll radio to you when to blow the mine.”

“It won’t work.”

“Humor me. I think it will work better than you expect.”

Shrugging, Gaffigan went inside the nearby Armory warehouse to get some help moving the spare ladybug’s rear shell. When he returned, with four PDF troopers in powered body armor carrying the heavy part, Reynolds couldn’t be seen, but he was heard on radio.

“Colonel, ask your people to adjust the four maintenance jacks built into the ladybug’s base, to raise it two feet above the ground, then set it down over the inactive mine, and step away towards the Armory.”

Gaffigan didn’t see him when he looked around, but instructed his people to do as the man had requested. They stepped well away, and suddenly, in their midst of the group of five, Reynold’s body armor rippled into view. That startled them, since even their suit visor systems hadn’t seen him, as they could faintly see each other if stealthed.

Opening his helmet like a clamshell at the sides, he showed a smiling face as it was lifted off. “You and your people should probably step farther back with me, Sir. I’ve never seen what these mines can do. I have unit number one-seventy-eight under that chassis, and it’s in active receive mode for detonation, with its electromagnet active for attachment. Do you happen to know the command code for that unit? I forgot to ask about that.”

“Corporal Ennis here does, he did the other tests.” The colonel gestured to a figure with the proper external insignia on an armored upper arm, as they walked a bit farther away.

The corporal opened his front faceplate. “I’ve set some of these off before, so this is a safe distance. Say when Sergeant.”

Reynolds looked over at the rear clamshell of the ladybug, sitting on its maintenance jacks about fifty feet away. “OK, when.”

There was an instant bright flash and a surprisingly muffled blast sound, as a searing and fragmenting white-hot thin spear of molten metal erupted through the clamshell over the ladybug. The chassis jacks lifted a bit on one side in reaction, before dropping back level. The rapidly cooling metal stream coalesced into briefly glowing droplets before the dark pellets rained back down on their “dead bug” victim, bouncing off its top with a clinking and clattering sound.

Gaffigan was shocked. “How’d you get it to penetrate from so far below? It should have sent molten splatter out to all sides like our tests did if it was upside down. Except I saw the mine was still bottom down on the cover, aimed the wrong way, since the top side is slightly rounded. It should have burned through the cover into the sewer, not the ladybug. I thought I’d be saying, “I told you so’”

Sarge looked smug. “It worked, because its base side was actually in direct and firm contact under the ladybug when it went off.”

“It wasn’t when I watched the damned chassis being set down. How’d you manage that?”

Grinning, and pulling another limpet mine from the bag hanging from a utility attachment at his waist, Reynolds demonstrated, without needing a manhole cover. He placed the mine base down on the pavement, put on and sealed his helmet. Then he lay down on the road on his back, the top of his head roughly a foot from the mine. He reached his arms over his head to grasp the mine at its sides, and suddenly his suit rippled into invisibility. The mine lifted from the ground, flipped over to position its base up, and it rose smoothly two feet. Then the actuator for the internal electromagnet activated briefly, causing a slight whine, before being switched off. Then the suit returned to visibility.

“That’s how.” Sarge said, via his external speaker, as he rose smoothly to his feet. “If they don’t detect the inactive mines sitting nearly invisibly on the metal manhole covers, a Kobani in stealth mode can lift them into place. It ain’t very high tech, but it’ll work.”

Chapter 9: Let’s Make a Deal

“Scan both pilots for hidden devices before bringing them here,” Thond ordered.

Hitok was shocked. “Gimtal, they would not betray us.”

“Would you say the same of the clever humans that captured and then released them, with messages intended only for our ears? They could have tracers or listening devices planted on or in them, which those two might be unaware they have. It would lead the enemy right to us.”

With a dismissive wrist wave, Hitok said, “You are becoming paranoid about this surprising species, old friend. We are using the only Pillager chassis with a boxy shaped superstructure, with communications antennas on its top. That uniqueness points to where the leaders are located. The new Legion leader of our own middle column said the enemy dropped our pilots off a block in front of him. Do you think they don’t already suspect where the commanders of this force are located?” His exercise in logic wasn’t finished.

“I remind you that they also know that you are on the planet, because the pilots were instructed to make certain that Force Commander Thond heard what they are supposed relay to me. The pilots said they were specifically told to ask for you, but they never told them you were here. The humans admitted they didn’t know the name of which commander was in charge of this Ground Force and didn’t ask, but they want to demonstrate to you why you can trust them to negotiate honestly. That implies they know how our command structure is set up, and that you came down to the planet rather than leave with the fleet. They spoke a passable translation of Fotrol, while we don’t know a word of whatever it is that they speak. I think we need to listen to what they told our pilots. That does not mean we will accept their proposal.”

Thond’s armored shoulders briefly slumped, in acknowledgement of the observation made by his fellow warrior, companion, and friend. “They have very effectively thwarted my strategy at every turn, and outwitted the other three Ground Force Commanders. I think I’ve led us, and our Ragoons, into a swamp that we may not be able to escape. I see subtle trickery and subterfuge in every contact we have with them now.”

Hitok was sympathetic. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t be skeptical of anything they have to say, but we may learn something about how they think, if we listen to their proposal.”

They learned more than they expected, as confusing as it was to them.

The two pilots, when presented, looked healthy, but why shouldn’t they have? They’d only been captured a short time ago. It seemed too short a time for the enemy to have devised the plans for a truce, conveyed it to these pilots, and sent them back. Unless they had been thinking along this line for a longer period.

Senior Lieutenant Kranfa started his report quickly, after they were led in and the Ragnar chest-thump salute-greeting formality was out of the way. “Sires, I was told first to give you a message that should serve as a sign the humans can be trusted to speak truthfully with us. I don't understand what it means, but they said to tell our Ground Force Commander to look under his bottom, and the bottom of his entire command. To do it again. She said it was important to tell you it was to be done again.”

“Do it again? Look at my bottom?” Asked Hitok, bemused. Thinking it was his personal rump that was to be examined, as some form of insult.

Thond was the quicker thinker this time. “Tell your Pillager commanders to look for mines again, and our own driver needs to check under our command post. That would be under your own bottom.”

He mused, “I wonder if we need to evacuate? He shivered his shoulders, with a soft hoot and head bob, to indicate a carefully considered negation, thus essentially answering his own question.

“If they have mines already in place, and they intended to detonate them, they wouldn’t warn us. It’s part of their offer to show trust. I’ll feel more trusting when we know if they’re attached, and we’ve removed any we find. Give the order to halt movement and check.”

The results were chilling. Virtually every combat unit had one mine attached, and the driver of the mobile command post found four. They were tightly adhered, apparently by a powerful magnetic field, which would have easily been detected before the prow of the sensor-laden chassis had passed over them if they were active then. Nor was the clang of their attachments heard, as some would have been if they had been snatched up from the ground to the bottoms. An advantage of using fusion-powered electric motors was how silent the Pillagers were, when they weren’t blowing things up. Gravel crunching and soft surfaced malleable treads scraping on pavements, were the greatest sources of noise when the tanks were moving along the city streets.

Shortly after the inspections were conducted, a process that was obviously observed by the humans responsible for placing the mines, the magnetic fields were simultaneously switched off remotely. That put a momentary scare into the troops close to them under the Pillagers, when they suddenly dropped to the ground. The Ragoons cross-trained as technicians and demolitions experts had been considering what to do to remove or destroy them without triggering a detonation by a tamper resistant circuit.

Most commanders didn’t wait for an order; they rolled their tanks forward to get clear of the small deadly objects. That order did come quickly from Hitok to do that for every unit, and nervous crews were relieved their leaders had somehow known of the threat, and had neutralized it. Thond, Hitok, their driver, two subordinates, and the two Hoth pilots knew better.

“They could have destroyed the entire column,” Hitok said, in shocked awareness of the threat just avoided.

Thond was less fatalistic concerning the risk posed. “The penetrating shafts of molten metal couldn’t have ruptured the fusion generator casings, which would be explosively fatal. Those are located too far above the bottoms, and the molten shafts would start to spread after exiting the base armor plates. Although, they probably were placed to destroy the electric drive motors on either side, just as they did with the first mines they used. We have spares for drive motors in our supply ships, but not in the quantity needed had they used all of the mines. We’d have needed to salvage undamaged units from disabled units, while under fire.

“They were deliberately placed where they might kill a gunner or a driver sitting near the drive motors, but the motors themselves were the true targets. They could have killed all of us here inside this command post, with the four mines they had placed. There is no doubt they could have stopped the last of our armor. Moreover, we still don’t know how they put them in place so precisely. From their design and small size, they don’t remotely resemble the larger tank destroying mines we’ve developed, or the more complicated automatically launched, pop-up roadside penetrators. I wouldn’t be surprised if these lightweight devices were originally designed for some other use. These are inventive people, who use what they have available in unexpected ways. They must have had long experience with war and conflict in order to find so many new ways to be destructive.”

“What now, Force Commander?” Hitok brought him back to the present. “They made their point, so perhaps we should hear what else they told our two pilots. Just in case there are other unpleasant surprises they haven’t told us about.”

Thond looked at the two flight Lieutenants. “They must have had more to say. What else did they tell you?”

Kranfa glanced at the junior Lieutenant, who hooted his joint approval to speak for him. “Sire, they said we should listen for an unencrypted transmission on our flight emergency frequency. They want to speak directly to you, Sire. To set up a direct meeting.”

Thond was skeptical. “How would they know what that frequency is? We don’t conduct normal radio communications on that channel.”

Lieutenant Derkat had the temerity to speak up about the day’s activities in the sky, of panicked transmissions he’d heard from other flights. “We heard four emergency calls earlier today, when other flights reported they were under attack and were making forced landings. The first female that spoke to us said they had heard those encrypted calls. They couldn’t understand what we said, but they know about that frequency.”

“Female? And you say there was a second female that spoke to you? I wonder if they have a matriarchal society.” Thond was amused. “If they do, the Thandol certainly wouldn’t enjoy negotiating with them.”

“I don't think so, Sire.” Kranfa told him. “They have a male they said is named Tetsuo Mirikami, who is the mate of the second female that spoke with us, and he is their equivalent to a Force Commander. The mate’s name is Margret Fisher, but her companion used the sound Maggi when she spoke to her.” The odd sounds of the names were at least pronounceable for a Ragnar, unlike any Thandol’s name. We recorded their words and names in our memory assistants.”

Hitok asked, “When will they call us on that emergency radio channel? Were there any preconditions before we talk? I will not stop our progress towards that spaceport. However, if they do not fire at us, I will not fire at them.”

Kranfa did the Ragnar wrist flip as a shrug. “The Fisher creature said they would allow us to depart this world from the spaceport of this city. She said she could not promise to withhold all fire on our Pillagers and troops, but she said she would ask the defenders of this planet to stop shooting if we do not shoot at them, and if we do not destroy their buildings.”

Thond caught that implication immediately. “She is defending this world, but isn’t one of the native defenders of the planet? I think the fleet that arrived here, and the space planes belong to the humans we fought previously in space at the new colony world, and she is a representative of those humans with greater fighting ability. This world is not their home, and they do not rule or give orders to the humans that live here. Interesting. They have separate rulers, and yet they cooperate.”

Kranfa suddenly remembered how the pilot, who had brought his flight down alone, referred to herself and her people. He blurted, “The pilot that shot me down called her people the Kobani. She said they weren’t from here, and that her people drove away our fleet. I hadn’t understood what she meant, since I thought she looked like the other humans here. She said her people are a different kind of humans. The second female also said the Kobani are from the Galactic Federation, and they have other species as equal members of their government. This world of humans must not be part of the Federation.”

Hitok consider the Lieutenant’s words, and his insight. “They are obviously not structured like the Empire. Their phonetic script message to Group 3’s Commander, Faldor Culpa, told us they know we don’t like the Thandol, and invited us to join them to fight against the Empire. Then, when he destroyed the message board and moved ahead with his attack, his group was trapped in that canyon and eventually destroyed.”

Thond pondered this new information. “There must be two separate governing systems, both of which contain humans, but the Federation humans are different from those humans that live here, and they have non-human allies.”

The realization struck him. “We have not invaded a Federation planet. This world belongs to a different political division, about which we know nothing. How many of these berserker humans and their governments are there?”

Hitok’s subordinate, Vice Group Leader Gimlak, reluctantly interrupted. “Sires, there is a radio message on the reserved Hoth emergency channel. The voice isn’t a Ragnar’s, but it is speaking Fotrol. It sounds like an AI’s voice using a translator program. It asked to speak to Force Commander Thond.”

****

After an initial set of conversational protocols were established by assistants, over the course of thirty minutes, it was agreed that because only the humans had the software to translate between the human language, which they called Standard, and the Ragnar language of Fotrol, that a human AI would be the computer intermediary used for their initial discussions. The humans offered to share the database they had compiled as a basis for their translations, which would include a Thandol database for comparison, but not an actual AI system of the type they used to implement the translation process.

The Ragnar realized they could eventually complete their own translation program, but not here and now. It lent credence that there was a possibility they might yet return home. With the trivia out of the way, the two leaders approached their respective microphones. It was decided that the party offering an invitation for truce talks should speak first to describe what was being offered.

“Force Commander Thond, my name is Tetsuo Mirikami. I’m pleased you have chosen to speak with me on this unencrypted system. For greater communications security, I offer to meet with you personally, and with a number to be determined of your fellow officers or troopers, to be present at a meeting. For the Federation and for the local government of this world, we will combine our people to match your number of representatives. If you wish to arrive armed and in body armor, then we humans will meet with you in the same manner, although not all of our party will arrive armed. The Federation is comprised of other species and they are willing to meet with you, but they do not possess body armor. How many we bring will depend on the number of your people you wish to have participate. We are all willing to meet with you unarmed.”

A discussion between Thond and Hitok had taken place in the background as the first protocols were hashed out, and the Ragnar officers considered the reports that had arrived of the more advanced armor worn by the Kobani. The local planetary defense forces wore armor that was equivalent to that worn by the Ragnar. Considering that the Kobani human attendees would have weapons built into a type of armor that could make them invisible to the Ragnar suits, body armor was ruled out.

Eventually, bringing any sort of weapons was rejected, with Thond describing guns as the artificial equalizers. As Hitok pointed out to Thond, “Bone Crusher, you and I, nor any of our officers will require weapons to defend ourselves against unarmed humans, should they foolishly become aggressive.”

“Agreed, my Head Bashing friend. I’ll propose that a Legion of us meet with twenty of their representatives, all unarmed and without armor. I want to include at least two female officers in our party, because they will have females present. This isn’t the falgrat sucking patriarchal Thandol we’re about to meet, so our female warriors deserve to participate.”

When they learned that nonhumans from the Federation wanted to be included, it caused some consternation and discussion, but because there were no subservient species in the empire that could intimidate the Ragnar, it was decided this would leave the Ragnar party all the stronger with fewer humans present. Besides, it was a perfect opportunity to learn more about the composition of the mysterious Federation.

The last consideration was where to hold the meeting. Thond made the bold and clever proposal to hold the meeting on the wide-open area of the nearest spaceport, if it was first evacuated. Since that had been their objective all along, he expected that offer to be rejected. However, a surprising counter proposal called for the Ragnar group to arrive in a Pounder, which could pick up their participants at the northern edge of the city and fly the short distance to the east side spaceport. The humans said they would all arrive on a single ship of their own, landing on the tarmac within a comfortable walking distance from the Pounder, perhaps three lengths of a Pounder apart.

The humans had not mentioned anything about disabling the weapons aboard the Pounder, something not quickly done, nor easily verified. Thond assumed the human ship would be one of the warship types that had fought so effectively against their Ravagers. He was wrong.

The Pounder was sitting alone, near the center of the mile-wide circular tarmac, with no activity detected around the structures of the hangars, cargo storage buildings, and passenger terminal on one side. Of course, there could be any number of humans hidden inside the buildings, but they would be a half mile away, with the Pounder shielding the Ragnar from view. Considering that the undetected mines had not been used wipe out their armor, the treachery of an ambush seemed unlikely now.

A received radio message was brief, and it was claimed to be from Mirikami, although the AI could have spoken for anyone. “Our ship is leaving orbit now.”

They hadn’t asked where he was located earlier, and assumed he was planet side. This was probably why the spaceport had been an acceptable place for them to meet.

Instead of the long minutes of waiting for an atmospheric entry, there was an audible POP sound, and suddenly a large elongated white object, with both ends rounded, appeared a hundred feet above the tarmac, and quickly settled to the surface. The craft was slightly longer and bigger around than the Pounder, which was also larger than Ravagers were.

Nearly simultaneously, sensors aboard the Pounder detected a small burst of gamma rays above them at the edge of the atmosphere, as if a very low mass object had entered Normal Space there, and an alert was sounded.

The Federation ship settled with its long axis horizontal to the ground, and parallel to the Pounder. The only human ships the Ragnar had seen previously, the captured Krall clanships, always landed tail first and sat on massive jacks. This was a new class of enemy ship to them, and its instant appearance suggested deception was involved. That was troubling, in a situation that required a fragile trust to be extended, between opponents meeting to establish talks, which might not lead to a truce.

Thond pounced on what he saw as a violation of the protocol they both had agreed to follow. He radioed his complaint to them. “You were to arrive after we landed, but your ship was hovering there all along, using its Normal Space drive and in stealth mode, well before we arrived.”

As he transmitted, a ramp smoothly extended, and a large hatch irised open in the center of the side of the craft towards the Pounder. The motion of the ramp and hatch opening looked odd. It was as if the surface of the spacecraft had flowed to form the ramp and the hull surface pulled back to make an opening.

A lone figure, clearly a bipedal human in some sort of lightweight clothing, had its arms and hands exposed, displaying their unhealthy looking and nearly hairless skin. The head was also bare, but at least the ridiculously small thing had short black hair on the top.

The alien walked out onto the top of the ramp and waved with its right arm and hand, just as the radio speaker relayed the translator AI’s voice. “Hello. I’m the person you see waving. I’m Captain Mirikami. Captain is my title, as the captain of this spacecraft, which is named the Mark of the Federation.

“Before you saw us appear, we were not hovering here in stealth mode, although we do have that capability. We did indeed just arrive directly from orbit, and we did so by use of our Jump Drive, to appear above the field at a safe distance, before settling to the ground. We followed the agreed upon protocol to the letter, and we arrived after you.”

Thond challenged this new lie, now questioning his decision to meet with them here. “Ships cannot Jump into thick atmospheres. The air density is too great, and would severely damage systems, and of course kill everyone aboard when the gas molecules intersected with the tissues of your bodies. Why lie about this and start a meeting that requires trust, with such an obvious deception?”

“We didn’t lie, but we wanted to demonstrate a technology of ours that you have not seen previously. This was not a violation of the agreed to protocol, which I point out was proposed by us, for this very purpose. Although it may appear to you to be a deception, it was done to demonstrate that we have applications of technologies the Thandol, and you, do not possess.

“In one sense, we did not Jump into a volume of atmosphere where you saw us appear, because that volume was empty of air when we arrived. That air was Jumped an instant earlier, to a point many miles above us, to avoid wasting the gases this mode of arrival would otherwise cost the planet over many millions of such arrivals. You may have detected the small burst of gamma radiation its exit caused above us. We used level one of Tachyon Space to move the small mass such a short distance. It isn’t worth the trouble to suppress the exit radiation.”

Not that they had figured out how to do that with the gravity projectors yet. Nevertheless, you don’t reveal weak cards to other poker players.

Mirikami continued the explanation. “In effect, we arrived in a precisely defined bubble of vacuum slightly larger than the shape of our hull. A small atmospheric collapse against our hull is what caused the soft sound when we made our exit here, when the remaining small void in the atmosphere closed around us. This technology makes arrivals and departures to and from planetary surfaces faster, so long as we are careful where we shift the material we displace, and ensure the place where we arrive is clear of solid objects. Otherwise, objects sitting where we appear might be very seriously damaged.”

The inference was intended to be obvious. Mirikami was suggesting that the new Mark could have as easily transferred a ship-sized chunk of the Pounder into space as it arrived. This was technically inaccurate, as far as the Mark Jumping into a void made within a solid object was concerned, which would be suicidally dangerous if there was even a minor miscalculation. Again, why admit you didn’t have all four aces in your hand?

This technique was a recently developed use of the gravitational projector and control units mounted in the ends of this first of the new Mark II class of Federation ships. Tachyon energy was most often used with Jump Drives, to create an event horizon around a ship when it rotated into tachyon space.

The similar but smaller gravity projectors that the Krall had stolen, from the extinct Botolians, had been used by the unimaginative barbarians to dump dead bodies and damaged spacecraft into Jump Holes, to evaporate without a trace in Tachyon Space. The Krall had forced an isolated group of Torki slaves to learn how to use the projectors to compress pure carbon, as the Botolians had once done in their war with the Krall, to force the collapsed matter into the tough crystal structure of Hammers, or Eight Balls, as humans called them.

The dual projector system developed by the Olt’kitapi had considerably greater flexibility and control. With the single projector Mirikami had sheared from the Dismantler ship, Huwayla, available as an example, the Federation now possessed those valuable tools, and potential weapons.

Remotely Jumping matter through Tachyon Space, to exit in Normal Space at some other nearby point, was a small-scale application that the Olt’kitapi, with their theoretical physics and math wizardry, had never thought of using. Possibly, because they had no need to do this, or, like most slow developing and cautious species, they didn’t consider such risky, potentially explosive measures to be rational or reasonable. Humans were considerably less worried by such concerns, and the idea had been thought of independently by two different technicians, who tested the tachyon powered focused gravity projectors.

Mirikami had coincidentally been practicing this atmospheric arrival technique for days at Koban and Haven with his new ship. This was well before the Ragnar assault had started on Tanner’s world. It offered an opportunity to use the new technology to impress a people you wanted to recruit as a natural opponent of the Thandol. They wouldn’t know the Mark was currently the only operational ship of this new class.

It was decided that there wasn’t a practical means to avoid the thunderous bang of a Jump from the surface of a planet to space, because there was no point in shifting a volume of empty vacuum into the spot they had vacated. They decided to save that noisy departure example for a final demonstration for the Ragnar.

Thond kept Mirikami waiting while he confirmed with the crew of the Pounder that the gamma ray alert was where, and as weak as Mirikami had claimed it was. Radar and visual sensors from other Pounders had detected the burst, but saw nothing where the exit had happened, directly above the spaceport at the edge of the atmosphere.

The Force Commander conceded the possibility for the human’s clam. “Captain Mirikami, the gamma rays you mentioned were detected overhead. I accept your explanation. My group of twenty will exit one end of our Pounder, and we expect your representatives to do the same. It wasn’t mentioned in the agreement, but how many different species besides humans will be with you? We don't know what to expect.”

“They are walking out onto the boarding ramp now. There are five other species with us. The sounds for some of their names can’t be translated into Fotrol, so I’ll use the sounds humans use from my language. Like with the Thandol language, some sounds for their species names can’t be spoken by a human, so I’ll use the sounds I can make.

“The large purple and yellow crab-like representative is a Torki, which you may have seen pictures of from the Thandol. The furry gray and white biped with a long tail is a Prada. The six legged gray Raspani has the upright torso with arms similar to mine. Next is a tall gray hairless species with a body thicker than mine, and…” Thond interrupted him.

“You brought a Krall? They are a member species of your Federation?” He was incredulous.

“No, that is a Krall’tapi. They are the original species the Krall evolved from, over many thousands of orbits, using selective breeding. They are not Krall, they are their enemies, and do not want to be compared to them.”

“Understood. I will inform my officers, but be aware that we are soldiers, not diplomats. There may be words spoken that offend, but are not intended as such.”

“The same may happen with some of those with me.”

Thond caught sight of something that seemed distinctly different in mannerism and body functionality from any of the others. “Is that an animal predator you brought? I thought you selected only members of your intelligent species.”

There was a sound reminiscent of Ragnar huffs of amusement, which the AI appeared to have simply replicated, coming from Mirikami. The human strode over to the huge blue sinuous moving beast, and placed an arm over its thick neck.

“This isn’t an animal, at least no more so than any of us are. This is a ripper, an intelligent species from the planet I call my home. They have a communications ability that I expect will be vital in convincing you of our sincerity in seeking a truce here, and an understanding concerning our joint futures in regards to the Thandol. His name is Kobalt, and he can speak for himself, in more ways than you would believe if I told you now.”

“Does it bite?”

“No worse than my mate does.” There was more untranslatable huffing, and a smaller human, with yellow fur on top of its head, walked up and poked an elbow into the side of Captain Mirikami, who quit making the huffing sound, with a sound indicative of a grunt of pain.

Thond, recognizing the sort of interplay he once experienced with his now dead mate, thought there might be some commonalities with humans, simply because of convergent evolution of similarly shaped bipeds, and the resultant social developments of those beings.

He offered a guess. “That was your mate?”

A different sounding voice answered, more natural sounding than the AI, and said, in oddly accented but nearly fluent Fotrol, “Yes I am, and my mate’s attempts at humor at my expense often result in unforeseen consequences for him. I am Margaret Fisher. Or Maggi as I prefer to be called. I am someone who often passes for a diplomat in the Federation, although my training was in the biological sciences. I’m not always very diplomatic.”

“I’m a soldier by training,” Thond responded. “I’m not very diplomatic either. Why don’t we get this discussion started?” He started down the ramp from the Pounder, Hitok right behind him, and their entourage following.

****

Blunt talking, by both Thond and Fisher, progressed matters faster than a typical diplomatic meeting would have managed, if conducted by actual diplomats. It also helped that the Federation wanted the Ragnar to get back to the Empire with enough strength to face off against the Thandol, almost as much as Thond wanted out of this disastrous venture.

One talking point that was difficult to get beyond was presented by President Flacco of Tanner’s World, and Colonel Gaffigan, his PDF commander. They represented the injured parties on the planet, and demanded reparations for damages and lives lost.

Fortunately, because of the advanced warning that an attack was imminent, if not coming as soon as it occurred, the public had received briefings and had participated in discussions about the fastest methods to evacuate cities. No one knew the attacks would be quickly deflected from orbital attacks, or that the Ragnar would decide to conduct landings as four midsized cities. However, the evacuation plans only required minor adjustments, when the streams of people only had to divert away from the landing sights, located roughly a hundred miles from each city. That meant the loss of life among civilians had been limited, and even the PDF forces had suffered low casualties, by avoiding extensive direct contact with the enemy until they reached Fort Bradford.

Thond was careful to emphasize that he operated under the belief that the state of war the Emperor had declared, between the Empire and the Federation, was the basis for this assault. The Empire was completely unaware of the existence of the Planetary Union, or of their sphere of influence over what was termed Human Space, which included this planet. Neither he, nor the Emperor knew that the Federation did not govern this planet, or any world in Human Space, because the PU was an entity they were unaware even existed. He apologized, which was something he personally found difficult to do.

As for reparations, the Ragnar leader admitted that he had no authority or means to compensate the people here for damage suffered, because his species had no influence on the decisions of the emperor or the Thandol. He was passing the blame because he had no other course of action. None of those present believed that the Thandol would have flinched from attacking the Planetary Union, but only after their typically lengthy and comprehensive planning and preparation.

The Federation, with limited resources, refused to acknowledge in front of the Ragnar that they were weaker than they appeared, but they proclaimed that because Tanner’s world was targeted because of a conflict aimed at the Federation, that they would help in recovery here.

Actually, behind the scenes, Tet and Maggi had told President Flacco that President MacDougal, of the Federation, promised to establish the first non-Federation production facilities here, for the advanced alien technological items that were sold on Rim Worlds, and which they knew would eventually find huge markets in the Hub. Tanner’s could become one of the first Rim planets that could reverse the balance of trade between them and Hub worlds. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but there seldom was when it came to war and its aftermath. There wasn’t as much destruction as there would have been had not the Kobani rushed to their aid.

This wasn’t a time for keeping score, but the PDF forces knew the Ragnar had suffered over twenty-four thousand killed, and an unknown number of wounded. Of those casualties in orbit, there were few survivors recovered in that unforgiving environment, and of the Pillager forces on the ground, nearly seventy-five percent of those crews were killed in action, for a loss of nearly three thousand five hundred of the four thousand eight hundred that had embarked on this questionable adventure.

There was more than ample room on the remaining Pillagers for the surviving armor, and all of the foot Ragoons. The space planes would be allowed to travel out to meet the eight Spears, which it was revealed, had actually waited in the outer system for their chicks to return. There was no need for the extra sixty to be carried outside on the Jump home. Those broken birds would never leave Tanner’s World.

One difficult negotiating point for Thond to concede was that none of the sixty-one Stranglers remaining, of the eighty-three that he started with, would Jump home with them. Their crews could board Pounders, but the ships would stay behind. He pretended that he didn’t know why, and the Kobani didn’t say, but the images he’d seen on their colony world of the effects of a Debilitater on them, was enough of an explanation.

Had he refused to give in on this, the bluntly frank counter offer from the female called Maggi was to resume fighting, and that there would be no quarter allowed, that the Kobani fleet, which had stayed in orbit, would join with the Shadows in wiping out the armor, the foot Ragoons, Stranglers, and Pounders. Some space planes might evade destruction if they got off planet, but they had no Jump capability, requiring a Spear to carry them home.

The supply ships that landed had already fallen to Kobani forces, which had invisibly walked up to them and disarmed the guarding Ragoons, and took control. The ships had already been moved to a single spaceport, where the Ragnar could not observe what was done with them. Any remaining supplies they carried were offloaded, and a full Kobani, along with additional non-human Federation members not meeting with the Ragnar, interviewed the captains of each ship, exchanging information with the six completely new species thus met, a seventh being the Hothor. Neither side revealed to the other six species that Hothor and humans had previously met, to ensure they would not be betrayed to the Thandol. The ships were allowed to lift and Jump for their respective homes, with a pair of Prada com sets in their possession, and a promise by the Federation to provide them with information they might find interesting in the future.

A selling point for the Ragnar in accepting the truce, and conducting a peaceful withdrawal, was compelling on its own merits. A point satisfactorily verified by their mingling with the nonhuman members of the Federation they had met, and in particular the single ripper, the most astonishing lifeform they’d ever encountered. They might have extended that astonishment to the Kobani, tinged with great apprehension had they known they shared the same mental ability.

The Torki and Raspani, two of each, were intriguing as having less common body types than the majority of the bipedal species, which typified many successful and technological species. Humans and Prada shared the same uninteresting typical body structure, as did the Ragnar themselves. The four footed arrogant Thandol, with their noisy trunks and waving tentacles, had lost their charm with every species within the Empire long ago.

Many of the Ragnar officers were initially keen to measure themselves against the pair of Krall’tapi, who were roughly their same size, and seemed to find the higher gravity of Tanner’s to be rather mild. This interest was based on the reputation the Krall had held within the empire for so long, and the Krall’tapi looked similar to what for the Ragnar had been the equivalent of humanity’s legendary bogeyman myth.

Hitok, speaking to the slightly larger male Krall’tapi, Council Representative Deldra Holtor, told him bluntly, “You do not look as powerful and intimidating as we were told the Krall are, before the humans defeated you.”

Offended, Deldra said, “I’m proud to say that I am not a foul Krall warrior. Although, you should not judge their size and fearsome reputation based on my less violent people. I have half the body mass of a Krall male, none of their self-healing ability, limb regeneration, redundant organs, great speed and strength, or the talons and teeth they bred into themselves after the time of their revolt against the Olt’kitapi. My people are what they were at the start.

“Nevertheless, I suspect that as the Krall’s prototype ancestor species, I may be stronger than you are, I know we have faster reactions, and we prefer higher gravity than on this world. Except, my people do not measure their worth based on such physical features.”

Now it was Hitok who was mildly offended, and he wondered if he could engineer some sort of contest, where he could test this braggart’s claims. There wasn’t a species in the Ragnar’s security sector which they couldn’t defeat in unarmed physical combat. Before he could propose some harmless contest of strength, Holtor made it a moot point.

“It is irrelevant anyway, because in a face to face meeting, no Krall warrior is a match for any Kobani, not even the smallest one you have met, our Ambassador at large, Maggi Fisher. She is half my size, but perhaps ten times faster, and five times stronger. I can’t speak for certain, because I’d never pit myself against one of them.”

Hitok looked to where Thond was in discussion with the human mentioned, and the Force Commander hulked over the small, frail looking human. He rudely turned away from the Krall’tapi and sauntered towards the pair engrossed in other matters, now that a truce and withdrawal had been arranged. He didn’t see the Krall’tapi display the lip curl, which was his rigid faced equivalent of an amused smile.

This might be amusing, Deldra thought.

He’d deliberately redirected the alien. He only wanted to see this offensive Ragnar learn a lesson in humility, without his first considering potential consequences for the Federation and the tentative truce. He wasn’t fearful for Maggi, quite the contrary. He knew she could easily handle the blustering Group Commander. He’d witnessed individual Kobani in action, when they’d freed the Krall’tapi from their cruel Krall wardens.

Unnoticed, another Federation citizen had been listening, and shot the Krall’tapi a cold glare, which caused Deldra’s heart to skip a beat. The listener anticipated Hitok’s probable action to satisfy his sense of pride. However, a humiliating defeat for the Group commander, administered by the smallest human present, would result in a bruise to the pride of all the Ragnar present. They wanted to believe they could have won this battle on Tanner’s, but had selected a path that might lead to a better future for their species. Crushed egos could reverse that decision in favor of a fight to the end.

Like a wraith, the listener moved smoothly from behind the Group commander, to brush against the hand swinging at the end of a long muscular and hairy arm. It touched the back of the knuckles, and sent a powerful thought image that was intended to get Hitok’s attention. It worked better than anticipated.

Mental transfers like this went fast, even when half of the exchange passed through a nervous system that was not superconducting. Hitok received it in a flash, faster than he could easily comprehend, but minds embedded in complex brains had a storage region for short term memories, and from those they could recall events that had just happened, and this seemed like a recent and personal event to Hitok.

He recoiled from the unexpected contact as if he’d received an electrical shock, and uttered a loud surprised hoot as a detailed series of images flashed through his mind, as if they were his own memories. The subject matter was compelling, and directly related to what he was interested in learning. He hardly noticed the intimidating presence staring at him, with only the tips of his incisors exposed, a suppressed smile that he had learned from his human family.

The startled hoot was heard by Thond and Maggi, and they both glanced towards Hitok. Maggi instantly noted Kobalt’s near-smile, and saw the ape’s hand pulling away from the cat’s neck ruff. She instantly knew a frill had just taken place, but was puzzled as to what it had conveyed, and why Hitok seemed in a daze, gazing towards Kobalt, but the lack of pupil movement told her his eyes were not tracking the cat. He appeared to be seeing something not visible to her, which was a hallmark of unexpected image transfers to those who had never experienced one.

She had been exploring ways to bring up the contact telepathy capability of the rippers, and had started by mentioning the unique contributions the nonhuman citizens were making for governing the Federation. From there she would have to convince the Ragnar to accept ripper telepathy as a legitimate ability and not some trick. She wanted the two leaders to experience the unfiltered thoughts of the other nonhuman citizens of the Federation, using Kobalt as the conduit. Even to let them sense the understandably antagonistic, but authentic thoughts of the two men from Tanner’s world. For some reason Kobalt, who knew of her plan, had jumped the gun.

With a wry grin, she thought, Damn! He literally just let the cat out of the bag.

Kobalt, seeing Maggi’s quizzical expression, linked to her Comtap and quickly described the discussion he’d overheard.

“Commander Hitok wanted to know how weak looking humans had defeated the Krall, and Representative Holtor, whom Hitok offended, told him even a Kobani as small as you could beat any Krall, and by inference any Ragoon. He started walking in your direction, so I gave him a memory of mine. I did that to prevent an altercation with you, which could have ruined your negotiations if he was persistent, particularly if he refused to believe what you told him. Now he has evidence showing that Holtor’s claims about the Kobani are true.”

“What memory did you feed him?”

It was flashed to her in an instant.

“Oh damn.” She glanced at her husband standing next to her. “He’s not going to like that example. But you may have created the very opening I was seeking. Stay close.”

Hitok’s vision shifted from a gaze into the distance, where he observed an event he’d not witnessed, yet which seemed almost like a personal recollection. He stared at Kobalt for a brief moment, and then turned his head to look at Mirikami, trying to match that innocuous looking human, slightly smaller than the majority of his species, comparing him with the image of him fighting with far larger Krall. A creature who definitely appeared considerably larger and more intimidating than the similar looking Krall’tapi he’d just met.

“What is it Commander Hitok?” Thond inquired of his confused looking friend.

He flipped one wrist a couple of times, “I need an explanation, I think. More than one. That creature they introduced to us as Kobalt,” he pointed, “which they call a ripper, comes from the home world of the Kobani humans, which they claim is a heavy gravity planet. Just now, it touched my hand and somehow he caused me to acquire what seems like a personal memory. But I know that I never witnessed individual combat between a human and a Krall. In fact, I’ve never seen an actual Krall, only pictures, and of course the two similar looking Krall’tapi that we met today.”

Thond looked bemused, then slightly alarmed. “It made you see some hallucination of a fight between a human and a Krall?”

“It does not seem like a hallucination because it is extremely vivid and detailed, as if I witnessed the fight. It also isn’t just any human; it was that one.” He pointed directly at Mirikami, who seemed surprised, but knew the signs of a memory transfer when he heard it described.

He said, “I know of two occasions when Kobalt has witnessed me in direct confrontation with a Krall. Both times I was fighting with the same warrior, the war leader of their entire species, by the name of Telour. If it had a bloody ending, it was the second and final meeting.”

Hitok looked at him skeptically. “You tore his two hearts from his shattered chest with your bare hands? I don't know how I know the organs were his hearts, or that he had two, but that is what my thoughts tell me. He had you in his grip, prepared to crush your body and break your back, as you were held tightly to his chest. That Krall was a male? That’s what my thoughts tell me.”

“Yes,” Mirikami acknowledged, with a head nod that the ape decided indicated agreement. “Telour was a rather large Krall male, and our Death Challenge took place on humanity’s home planet of Earth, in the Planetary Union’s capital city. His death at my hands was not preplanned, but I found I needed to convince the leaders of that government that the Federation humans, the other Kobani like me, truly were stronger and faster than the Krall. That evil creature deserved to die, because he had caused the deaths of many billions of humans, and had ordered the complete destruction of two inhabited worlds, using an ancient Olt’kitapi ship with powerful gravity control. Kobalt was there, and saw it happen.”

Hitok gave several hoots of humor, and said to Thond, “Old friend, I wouldn’t recommend you trying your Bone Breaker demonstration on a Kobani. You have only one heart to give for your people, and we need you to live.”

Thond, not convinced, nevertheless replied in kind to his friend, with a hoot-laugh of his own. “Perhaps if you kept your distance, old Head Basher, you might prevail.”

“If that blue demon can give you the same set of memories, you wouldn’t say that. Captain Mirikami performed a maneuver, in midair as the Krall attacked, that I would have called impossible. I had to recall the blur of his movements several times, and I still don’t know how he survived the Krall’s deceptive initial attack. I also don't know how I received these thoughts, but I actually feel the emotions and concern that this ripper felt for his family member, as he watched that fight to the death.”

“Family member?” Thond looked at the huge blue furred, four-footed ripper, then the much smaller, tan and nearly hairless, bipedal Mirikami. The inference was obvious.

Mirikami, who had been observing Ragnar gestures, flipped his left wrist up once, and said, “He considers me to be his Uncle, and he was raised from a newborn cub by a Kobani woman, Noreen Renaldo, whom you met.” She waved at them, having heard what was said. Every Kobani, with their wolfbat hearing, was listening.

“She was once my second in command on a ship where I was the captain, and I have long considered her like the daughter I never had. She is Kobalt’s adoptive mother, so I’m a ripper’s Uncle. It’s a complicated story of our social development, and we don’t need to talk about that.

“We do need to talk about how a ripper’s telepathic thought transfers work, as happened just now. It is an awkward discussion, which my mate Maggi was trying to open with you just now Force Commander. We know how implausible this sounds. The rippers are the only natural telepaths we of the Federation have ever discovered, or heard about. It’s only possible because of their unusual organic superconducting nervous systems, which we’ve only found on Koban, and which all native animal life there shares. However, only a small group of creatures that are closely related to the rippers have inherited the rare brain neuron mutation that makes thought communication possible.

“It is not long-range, because as Commander Hitok experienced, it requires direct physical contact.” Mirikami was deliberately leaving out the artificial genetics that gave the capability to the Kobani. Passive thought reception by Kobalt and the Kobani had been happening intermittently for the two hours of this meeting, the apes unaware that the casual contacts revealed their unguarded thoughts. The Ragnar were a social species that shared a prehistoric mutual grooming instinct, therefore they were not averse to being touched, as were the Thandol, and they tolerated it but didn’t invite it from aliens.

After several nonhuman citizens of the Federation also allowed Kobalt to share her perspective of Mirikami’s fight with Telour, those that had not witnessed the original event discussed their new artificial memory. They admitted they were impressed with how their normally restrained military leader had acted, when deadly action was called for. Mirikami was embarrassed by the attention this garnered him, from those that had never seen him even angry.

“Yep, that’s my kick-ass husband,” Maggi told them, enjoying his discomfort.

Hitok was describing to Thond and other Ragnar how it felt to sense and recall those implanted thoughts, and explained that he was clearly aware that they were not from his own memory or experience, because the background thoughts and emotions he sensed were not his, but from the alien.

It was the rookie pilot, Lieutenant Derkat, who impulsively volunteered to be the second Ragnar to receive thoughts from Kobalt. He was instructed to place a hand on the frill, and he didn’t jerk it away, as had Hitok in his surprise. He asked aloud if there were different memories, which Kobalt might share with him. The manner in which it was answered did surprise him.

“Of course. I can share the memory of a hunt with a pride of rippers, as we tracked and brought down a large prey animal called a rhinolo, on our home savannas.”

Prior to that mental thought reply, Kobalt had used the fob around his neck to speak aloud in translated Fotrol. This was different, because it included emotional content as well as images that reinforced the reply, and was not spoken at all.

The distinction was noticed immediately, and the Lieutenant answered in kind, thinking his answer, that he’d like to see how a group of rippers would hunt together. The scale of the rhinolo was impressive because the image included other rippers trying to trip what he sensed was a huge old male animal. The large and muscled rippers were dwarfed by the old rhinolo, and only their cooperative efforts made the hunt a success.

He immediately wanted his wing mate, Lieutenant Kranfa, to experience the thrill and excitement of that hunt, and he loudly called him over, unaware that Thond was behind him by several feet, and had observed the interaction.

When Kranfa approached the two, his apprehension allayed by his wing mate’s obvious enthusiasm, Kobalt suggested that they could share a telepathic conversation of the hunt between them all, using Kobalt as a form of thought relay. It wasn’t until Kranfa had received the burst of thoughts that covered the hunt, that he felt secure enough with the process to try the thought relay. He asked, “How do I think at my companion so he can sense my thoughts?”

“I heard that,” the rookie said, pleased. “I mean I received your thought, even though you spoke it to Kobalt. Try it without speaking out loud.”

The ripper patiently told Derkat he should follow his own advice, and stop talking.

After that, the two Lieutenants exchanged their silent conversation, with Kobalt acting as intermediary. They played with this for a time, before Thond placed hands on their shoulders to ask what they were doing. He was instantly part of a group conversation.

Kobalt said, “Interesting way to communicate, isn’t it Commander?”

“I’m touching them, not you. Why am I receiving your thoughts?”

“You have my thoughts too Sire, I think,” Derkat thought but didn’t say, “Because I hear your words, but also sense your thoughts and curiosity.”

Maggi, pleased that Kobalt’s experiment was working better than she had planned, came closer to explain how this thought relay through Kobalt could be used to experience thoughts from another species. Even those that didn’t share a common language. Images, meanings, and emotions could be conveyed without language, as the rippers had done for eons before meeting humans, who had a spoken language.

She explained. “It was this ability that helped us learn the Thandol tongue, and Fotrol, as well as the languages of the species within our Galactic Federation. I’m sure you’ve sensed the emotions of the sender, and detect the background thoughts from the minds you communicate with telepathically. Rippers are what we call our Truth Sayers, or others of us say they are Unbiased Witnesses. A ripper has never been known to tell a lie, although in order to conceal a truth that they don’t wish to share, they can withhold their thoughts or images on a subject. In fact, so can you, and any intelligent and aware species can do that.”

Suddenly wary, Thond broke contact with the two lieutenants. He’d realized his thoughts were being shared with the ripper.

Kobalt chuffed in amusement, and said, “I could only sense thoughts you have on the surface of your mind, and even then only if you decide I can know them. To withhold a thought is as easy as deciding not to answer a question aloud. If I ask you how many mates you have had, if you don’t want me to know, those thoughts are no more shared with me than are the words not spoken by your mouth.”

Maggi suggested he allow some Ragnar to experience thought sharing with various members of her group, with Kobalt the conduit. “Kobalt will of course know everything that passes through his own mind, but he will not alter or block what another’s thoughts are, because rippers do not do that with themselves. They are painfully blunt and honest at all times, but honesty is one of their greatest virtues.

“This ability is how we have forged a trusting environment for our Federation government, despite multiple species and languages, with distrust and skepticism as present in us as it surely is in you. Yet knowing what the other side in a discussion truly thinks, if they open their minds to you, is revealing, if not always flattering to your ego.”

“In what way is it not flattering?”

“Ask Kobalt what he thinks about the Ragnar, your appearance, your smell, your general attitudes toward species other than yours. You probably don’t have to open your mind all the way to learn that, because he has already experienced contact with nearly all of your party. I ask that you not take personal offense because ripper opinions, of humans, and our other Federation species, are not full of complements either.”

“Do I ask him verbally, or just touch him?”

She laughed. A sound not that different from the hoots of Ragnar laughter. “He isn’t deaf Force Commander Thond. He heard everything I said. And he doesn’t care if you or I like what his opinion is of us. It’s what he thinks, and that’s what he will tell us. Just touch his frill, the raised area that encircles his neck. That is where the highest density of their network of nerves is located, to share thoughts the most clearly and rapidly.”

After a few moments of touching the frill, with Thond’s involuntarily expressions changing as he learned what the ripper thought of the Ragnar, and him, he removed his hand, and glared at Kobalt, before he hooted several times.

“I don't think we smell sour and musty, and our grooming one another does not mean we are infested with body parasites. I do admit that we act arrogant to other species, and have displayed little regard for their wants and desires. We can’t show such regard for subservient species or we couldn’t perform the duties required of us by the Thandol. That is how we have maintained our greater freedoms and prosperity over other species within the Empire. I do think I could likely beat a Kobani in unarmed combat, because I would not stupidly charge at one of them without thinking of what I would do first, and what they are capable of doing. Kobalt finds that delusional on my part.

“I do believe we are superior to the Thandol in both intelligence and physically, and are better fighters. If they didn’t have their huge navy and advanced weapons, which we are not allowed to duplicate for ourselves, we would become better rulers of the Empire than they are. Kobalt thinks we would replace their tyranny with our own. I think our rule would be beneficial to those currently under the footpads of the Emperor.”

Maggi grinned. “That wasn’t so painful was it? Are you prepared to sense the thoughts of our nonhuman allies?”

“Yes, I think all of us combined can learn insights about you. I’m surprised that you are willing to allow that. We have a truce here on this planet, but that ends when we return home. I say that, because I know you already believe that anyway, and Kobalt will have sensed it from me, I think. I also want to share thoughts with you and the other Kobani. I suspect that with rippers living among you, that you know how to conceal your most guarded thoughts. Do you think the other species can do that?”

“Yes, but perhaps not as well as we humans.” She answered honestly. “I’m less worried about you Ragnar now, because I know you would take an opportunity to overthrow the Thandol if we make it possible. I’m sure you believe we will be approaching the Finth and Thack Delos with a similar offer, to revolt against the Thandol. That’s an obvious move by us, so I won’t waste time discussing it with you. If we reach agreements, the revolt has to be coordinated anyway. There’s plenty of time.”

“You know the Emperor will send us back here to attack federation worlds. We will do it too. They will be coming here as well.”

“Oh, you may have a useful delay tactic to use against them.”

“What would that be?”

“You now know the Planetary Union exists. It has its own navy and armies that you know nothing about. This world is within the volume of space where they claim dominion, but it isn’t part of their Union. The number of star systems humans inhabit is far denser per cubic light year than are the stars of the Empire, and more humans live on each of our many hundreds of earliest colonies than we observed on worlds in the Empire. We have adapted many worlds to our needs, more than the species you know of in the Empire, and we like heavier gravity than you do, but we can also live where it’s lighter. That increases the number of worlds we can use.

“As you learned from the people that live here, all humans are innately aggressive, and innovative in warfare. There are probably as many inhabited worlds in Human Space as there are in the Empire, even without counting all of the worlds of the Federation, which is much larger than Human Space. The Planetary Union was allied with us against the Krall, and they will do so against the Empire.”

She believed that, but it hadn’t happened yet, and she glossed over how many inhabited planets there actually were in Federation space. The other Federation participants in this meeting had been well briefed on what had to be kept secret, when Kobalt let the Ragnar participate in thought exchanges with them. Long experience with Kobani and rippers had schooled those here, on how to block thoughts the Ragnar shouldn’t receive.

She continued. “The Federation has already taught the Thandol that even a few of us wandering around in their empire can be highly destructive. You and your fleet learned that here, when we brought more force than you could handle, and used technology that even the Thandol don’t have. We can share our technology with the Planetary Union, because we are natural allies.

“If you share what you know now with the Thandol, they will take their usual long term approach, and spend an orbit or two just scouting before they even consider an attack on the Planetary Union. They may be less reluctant to do that against the Federation, because we are already at war. I assure you however, if they or you continue aggression against us, it will have harsh consequences. The docks at Meglor are not the only example of the destruction that can be repeated at other star systems. We know where the Emperor lives and we now know where the Ragnar live. If we are attacked, you will pay a heavy price.

“If you are patient, we will work to weaken the Thandol, giving their three security forces an opportunity to make them answer for their many millennia of brutal and harsh domination of you.” She hoped that would be true, but would settle for being able to spark a single revolt, even if it didn’t succeed. That could keep the Thandol too busy to worry about the Federation for quite some time. There were more “ifs” involved than she liked.

By the time the frilling was done, the Ragnar had a definitive sampling of how the different species within the Federation fared. There were complaints, but they had a chance to express them without repercussions, and they had equal votes on the ruling council of representatives. They also had many favorable things to say, and they universally acknowledged that the Kobani were the primary defenders of the Federation. They had been the primary engineers of the defeat of the Krall, and had liberated all of the other species from Krall enslavement. Although, they admitted that the Planetary Union forces had completed the liberation of planets the Krall had invaded in Human Space.

It had been a long day, and just before sunset every Group One Pounder, loaded with troopers and Pillagers they had collected from the city limits of Fort Bradford, were escorted to the only spaceport the Ragnar had managed to reach. Kobani ships performed that task, and assured the Stranglers were landed and left where they were when their crews transferred to Pounders. The Hoths were permitted to leave atmosphere, and travelled out beyond Tanner’s single moon, where they were met by the eight Spears that Jumped in from the two gas giants, where they had been lurking. Six of the Pounders, over all, were found to have damaged Jump Drives and would have been left behind, even though they had lifted to orbit.

“It isn’t necessary to abandon them,” Mirikami told Thond.

He described how a tow would work in Jump status, something the Ragnar had never done. Their T-cubed ships typically formed a tight event horizon to rotate into Tachyon Space, and it required a manual override of a safety feature to allow them to expand the horizon wide enough. They were easily able to trap a tachyon of sufficient energy, but that was normally considered a waste of the unlimited energy available. As a safety measure, they permitted no crews aboard the six damaged Pounders. The Ragnar were not convinced it would work until the first fully functional Pounder enveloped its tow ship, rotated out of the Normal Universe, and then back after a short Jump. The only unexpected event for them was the burst of gamma rays from the combined ships, because the computer control of the exit procedure couldn’t work to prevent that for the pair of craft. They were now ready to start for home.

Thond informed Mirikami that they would be following the same indirect route they used to arrive, but it was to conceal where they had been from the Thandol monitor ships when the reentered the empire.

With no sentimental words, or any communications at all from Thond, the remaining Pounders around the planet lifted from the four areas where they had originally landed. When they reached orbit, a safe distance out of the gravity well, they nearly simultaneously entered Jump Holes. The six Pounders with their tows, were staggered bit on their Jumps, since they had to enter their Jump Holes manually.

There were two Federation patrol boats nearby, which monitored the tachyon wakes, which proved that all of the ships were moving in the direction expected. Thus ended the Ragnar invasion of Tanner’s World.

Dillon asked Maggi. “Do you think Thond will tell the Thandol what happened to them here, or try to hide their failure, and let the Thandol walk into an ambush in six months?”

She shrugged. “The Force Commander is a quick study. When Kobalt asked him what he would tell the Thandol, he appeared to have no thoughts on the subject, but verbally said he would tell them why they should avoid Tanner’s World.”

“He blocked his thoughts?”

“I said he was a quick study. But he didn’t receive all of the lessons.” She smiled.

“Meaning what?” Dillon and Noreen knew the pixy smile and a twinkle in her eyes meant something.

“I taught him the proper method of saying farewell, when leaving a diplomatic meeting with humans.”

“Stop stringing us along, damn it.” Sarge was impatient.

“I told him their knuckle bump greeting was similar to a symbolic gesture we use, and described our method. I said for him to make sure the Thandol know to leave planets inside Human Space alone, as we shook hands.”

“And?” Mirikami prodded his wife.

“I’m not a ripper, so he wasn’t on his guard. We’d better tell President Strickland to be ready to repulse the next fleet. It’s the Thandol’s turn, in a PU meat grinder.”

Chapter 10: Alliances and Solutions!

Even forewarned, with the time of arrival preapproved, actually seeing the Mark II suddenly appear just one hundred feet above the presidential landing pad, in the glare of landing lights late at night, was a shock for both Marlene Strickland and her Vice President, Adriana Bledso. The ship appeared with only a mild pop sound, and settled silently to the pad. This was yet another technological leap in spacecraft design for the young Federation, and the shape of the ship was familiar, and chilling.

It was a slightly smaller version of the Dismantler named Pholowela, which had previously brought a contingent of Federation visitors to Earth. Another Dismantler had actually lived up to the name of its class of ship. Deceived by the Krall, the one named Huwayla had destroyed gas giants in two inhabited star systems, resulting in billions of deaths from the debris. This new smaller ship also had rounded ends, which is where dual gravity projectors were placed on Dismantlers, and somehow those gravity fields were used to cause planetary cores to explode. Mirikami had not mentioned if they now had that capability.

The Federation said they were planning to build a large number of the new Mark II class of ships, to replace the old clanship design created by the Olt’kitapi. Being an ally of the Federation seemed natural, and it sounded like a self-serving tactic for the PU if the Thandol Empire was as aggressive and powerful as they described.

The hull surface flowed in that weird alive seeming fashion, forming a ramp and opening a hatch. Strickland and Bledso recognized Tet and Maggi as they descended, and the tall man between them had to be the Federation’s President, Stewart MacDougal. They were the first three down the ramp, followed by the alien menagerie of the Federation Council representatives, two from each species, as if from some sort of galactic Noah’s Ark.

Having been forewarned of their presence, the pair of Krall’tapi still stirred feelings of unease with Bledso. The makeup of the contingent had been coordinated via the Kobani Comtap specialists, who were now sprinkled among government departments around the PU capitol of Denver. Two specialists were assigned to the Executive offices, one for the President of the Planetary Union and one for her VP. There was one with the Secretary of Defense, another with the Chairfem of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and one with the Secretary of State.

Apparently, many more such specialists were to be provided, for improved rapid and long-range coordination at less lofty governmental and military levels. At least that was what Strickland and Bledso had concluded, after receiving a message relayed through their two Comtap specialists, sent directly from President MacDougal.

When the formalities of a brief welcoming speech from Strickland, and a group introduction was complete, the process of awkward greetings was conducted between the gathered PU officials and Federation representatives, the latter being well outnumbered by curious humans. The majority of the PU officials had personally never seen an alien up close before tonight. Strickland thought it was high time that omission was remedied.

There were rather a lot of officials, many from the President’s Cabinet, which after the Vice President included the heads of various executive departments. Such as the Secretaries of Agriculture, Commerce, Defense, Education, Energy, Health and Human Services, Core World Security (which meant the Hub), New Colony Development, Rim World relations, Labor, Interstellar Transportation, Treasury, the new Veterans Affairs department, as well as the Attorney General for the Core worlds.

One excited participant, and not a Cabinet member, was the PU President’s Press Secretary, Gerard Enright, who had arranged for the historic governmental recordings, which would be shared later with the news organizations, who were not invited to cover this event. The previous spectacle on the Capital steps would guarantee a circus atmosphere again if they were present.

He’d been busy coordinating with his assistants in positioning the drone cameras for the best angles, and he wasn’t actually watching the meet-and-greet process with each alien, to observe the differing protocols. One did NOT shake the largest claw of a Torki (you touched a smaller fine manipulator, located under their scary looking mouthparts).  For a Raspani, you nodded and squeezed your bent elbows to your sides. A Prada would shake hands just like a human, as would one of the Krall-resembling Krall’tapi (which left most greeters with a feeling of anxiety). Not all species had a specific greeting ritual.

As the line of Federation representatives finished the chore of symbolic greetings, they followed those ahead of them into the Presidential mansion. The Press Secretary, his directing of assistants in the drone Tri-Vid recording duties complete, dashed to the end of the receiving line, where a few Cabinet department assistants stood. He wanted to meet at least one of the aliens personally.

Enright hurriedly stepped between two people he felt he outranked, near the end of the line, and nervously extended his right hand in front of whichever was the last alien approaching from his left. It happened to be a ripper. A damned huge male.

Kobalt, expecting yet another touch to his frill, was amused at the sight of the man’s lowered and slightly cupped hand, extended for an inappropriate gesture with a species that could not shake his hand. The cat’s intense blue eyes met Enright’s, which suddenly opened wider with the realization of which species this was. The cat revealed part of his white incisors, and a wet pink tongue. The cat moved forward quickly, and his mouth engulfed the hand, a rough tongue delivering a moist lick.

Kobalt said loudly, via his neck fob, “If you’d wanted it cleaned, you should have washed it yourself, but not a bad flavor.” In contrast to the words, a frightening mental image that he sent to the man was far less benign.

Enright instantly jerked his hand back, staring at it in horror as if counting his fingers, and surprised the moistness wasn’t his blood.

Kobalt, chuffing softly, continued past the last two people in line, who had been observant enough to know to place a hand on top of his neck to touch the frill, as he in turn said hello or good evening, accompanied by a similarly mild thought.

The cat could hear the slight whir of a camera drone overhead, which had specifically followed him down the entire greeting line, and which had just recorded what would become the most popular clip on the news and Instellarnet for several days to come.

****

By the time the Federation’s contingent left Earth, the Planetary Union and the Galactic Federation had formally established diplomatic relations. The meet-and-greet at the Presidential Palace had been a prelude before they gathered again at the State Department building, with the press and ranking members of the House and Senate in attendance.

The news had been filled for days with stories of how the Federation, acting alone, had driven off an alien invasion of Tanner’s World, which most Hub citizens felt the PU had the moral obligation to defend. The administration announced publicly that because of legal limits placed on President Strickland by her political opponents, that the PU military had been unwillingly relegated to being bystanders, despite their knowing of warnings that an attack might happen. A public outcry arose against the obstructive policies of the Leaders of the Old Republic, which controlled both the House and Senate.

The LOR had repeatedly, and publically, blocked every effort to grant diplomatic recognition of the Federation, or to form a military alliance with them. Ironically, there were public comments in interviews given by prominent LOR members, that President Strickland should have used an executive order to preposition General Nabarone’s forces on Tanner’s world, with support from the First Fleet, to be coordinated with the Federation forces.

Sensing possible losses in the upcoming midterm election cycle, the LOR reversed itself on a number of once vital seeming issues. Gene mods were no longer claimed to be the evil they were once thought to be. At least not by the LOR politicians desirous of reelection, although their rightwing, ultraconservative evangelical members were less than happy with them.

Strickland wisely neglected to mention that she had intended to use executive orders to put PU forces into the thick of the expected battle, except the Ragnar had launched an attack five months sooner than anyone expected. She admitted that only the Federation was able to respond quickly enough to help Tanner’s World in the first three days of the attack. The lack of instant communications had prevented her from even learning of the attack soon enough to mobilize the PU’s military response.

The astonishing stories of the resistance offered by of the people of Tanner’s World, and their small, previously disbanded Planetary Defense Force, stirred the patriotic emotions of all of Human Space. The tales of their innovations, sacrifices, and material losses, which brought about the remarkable destruction of three of four separate armored tank divisions, was creating legends. The Kobani fleet driving away the Ragnar fleet, and then helping to stop the fourth tank division, with the Kobani leaders next convincing the Ragnar to withdraw under a negotiated truce, was going to be a story retold many times.

Considering that Tanner’s had negligible armored capability of its own, their heroic defense of their home, against what should have been an overwhelming and successful invasion, created a sense of instant pride on behalf of citizens throughout Human Space. This action would surely join the legions of recent Krall war Tri-Vid movies.

Fresh attention was given to the revelation that the attack came from a previously unknown alien empire, which had first attacked several new Federation colonies, and had now branched out to attack a world within the sphere protected by the Planetary Union. It seemed a natural extension of the last war, to see the Federation united again in a common cause with the people of Human Space, opposing another powerful alien enemy. They were beginning to accept that the galaxy was brimming with other intelligent, space faring civilizations, and not all of them were friendly.

There had been twenty intelligent species living in the Orion Spur, seventeen were conquered by the Krall, and two others were humans and rippers, who were never defeated by them. Yet, a glance at a map of the Milky Way demonstrated that humanity lived in an isolated section of that vast star system, and they had not even explored the entire Spur.

Reports from several species living within the Empire, captains of supply ships rescued from Ragnar control, said the Thandol occupied only one ninth of the Sagittarius Arm. Even so, there were twenty-six technological, space faring species found within that volume. There were enough star systems in the Milky Way for there to be tens of thousands of intelligent species, and the realization had been driven home that some of them would prove to be inimical to their neighbors.

Humanity now had statistics that suggested about ten percent of the known intelligent species would prove to be aggressive and warlike. Although, none of them had yet seemed able to match humans in their ability to respond to aggression. For the first time, the Kobani were being considered a vital part of humanity. There were more citizens now willing to acknowledge that if they had to fight an alien empire, which wanted to turn them into their servants, they’d prefer to fight with Kobani-like advantages.

****

Home again, Maggi asked, “Who do you think will be the first Normal human volunteer for receiving a Comtap?”

Mirikami tugged at his lower lip. “If Adriana had her way, she’d go first. But as second in line for the presidency, I doubt if she, and certainly not Strickland, can receive medical clearance from their doctors for the implant. Not right away.”

“That was clearly one of Stewart’s better ideas,” Maggi agreed. “We don’t lose any communications security ourselves, the PU gets instant coordination, in or out of Tachyon Space, and we can jointly share intelligence all the way across the galaxy.

“They’ll soon be able to use a mind enhancer as well as the Raspani and Torki have done for thousands of years. They can’t share thoughts via Comtap, like a full Kobani can, and it takes practice to use and search through the huge library modules of data in a Comtap. Our wolfbat memory matrix is faster at that than technology can do right now, but Normals will learn to manage.”

Tet was relieved. “It eliminates our problem of assigning so many Kobani just to relay messages to and from us, or between them, which is a waste of our abilities. I don’t worry about their using the capability against us. We have too many common interests.

“By the way, why didn’t you want Stewart to tell Strickland about all the Kobani converts of enlisted men and women in the military, who already have Comtaps? I think they could promptly take good advantage of them.”

“Adriana asked us not to say anything about it. At least until Comtap use is more prevalent. If people knew some service members already had them, it would soon leak that those men and women are also Kobani converts, something that’s harder to explain and politically embarrassing. Foxworthy, who knows of our conversion program and has kept quiet, might get into hot water and have to be relieved. We want her in charge of First Fleet if the Thandol still conduct their attack on Tanner’s World.

“You and I think Thond might hold his tongue about what happened to him there. It would be more to protect his position as Force Commander, and about keeping the Ragnar in charge of their security zone, than of wanting the Thandol to succeed in their raid. If we hurt any force they sent badly enough, it would suit his long term goal to weaken them.”

Mirikami wasn’t sympathetic. “Humph. His silence won’t help the poor bastards on Tanner’s World.”

His wife gave him a look. “He certainly doesn’t give a damn about them. Besides, he knows Thandol Politics, so he may know it wouldn’t matter if he ‘fessed up anyway. The Emperor had already ordered their retaliation for your blowing up his personal Crusher. The Ragnar being handed their asses won’t change his mind, and it might make him want to prove how much better the Thandol are at punishing a lesser species.”

Mirikami was looking ahead to their next step, in a process to disrupt the Emperor’s plans. “As soon as we have some of the new Scout class ships to test, if their small tachyon wakes are as hard to detect as Max predicts, we can make faster T-cubed trips to visit our bug friends on Canji Dol and their Hothor protectors.”

Maggi’s eyes brightened at the prospect, since the trip was her suggestion. “Those sloths know a lot about the Imperial Court intrigue that lurks behind the scenes, and they can tell me the species that have individuals that provide servants to the highest placed Thandol. They may know which of those species are inclined to talk with us, and could be motivated to start mischief causing rumors, perhaps planting physical evidence to back the rumors we invent.”

She warmed to the subject. “The device addresses of high ranking noble Thandol, which I picked from Captain Halder’s memcache, can be used to inject distrust and suspicion, by storing phony subversive data packets in them, where they can be found and reported by loyal supporters of the regime. All of their Emperors are justifiably paranoid about being killed and replaced by ambitious competitors. It could come from a plot by a noble within Emperor Farlol the 84th’s own herd. Although, from what the Hothor told us, this Emperor has apparently been tolerated and better behaved than many have been in the past.”

She grinned. “Unfortunately, I think attitudes about good ‘ole number 84 are going to change, as politics become a bit unstable in Thandol-land. I’ve heard it on very good authority, my own of course, that discussions about a Farlol the 85th are about to start.”

****

Mirikami spoke frankly. “Rafe, I hope you have something interesting to show me. I’m up to my ears in tests of our new Scout craft.”

He looked surprised. “Don’t you have people to do that for you?”

“I could delegate that, but I’m planning to lead multiple Scouts into Empire space, with me and Maggi using one of them to visit the Olt’kitapi and Hothor. If these little boats are detectable by Thandol tachyon wake monitors, the surviving free Olt’kitapi could be captured or killed, and their Hothor protectors crushed.

“I won’t risk so much before I know for certain. I intend to make sure that when the Thandol really start to look for one of these, they can’t trace their movements. Our own monitors can’t see us at T-squared, or even at T-cubed travel, but the Thandol have been monitoring ship traces for much longer, and they may be better at it than we are. They have taxed and kept tabs on the other species in the Empire, who would want to avoid detection when their ships engage in unregulated trade, but we think they only use level one travel for that, one ship at a time, which is below the detection threshold. However, none of subservient races is allowed to develop T-cubed travel, so that level normally only contains large, hard to hide warships for them to monitor. Ships too small for carrying significant cargo, and are not massive warships, might not be detected.

“Since it’s my responsibility, I’m personally making certain we can do it safely. I’ll head into Empire space for a few days, to provoke the kind of reaction from them where they’ll really want to find our Scouts. If they can’t, then the mission will proceed as we’ve planned. I have more to do to get ready today, and I don’t mean to rush you, but what do you have that sounded so urgent that I had to come myself?”

“OK, then I won’t waste time on a buildup and an explanation of what Aldry and I, and our team has worked on in the last couple of months.”

He walked over to a wide hanging cloth, which blocked off one end of the long room from floor to ceiling. “We had Sarge arrange to have some equipment pulled from a couple of damaged Pillagers, which were left behind on Tanner’s World. Technicians from Max’s group reassembled the components from several tanks, and set it up for us. It’s fully operational.”

Rafe tugged at the cloth, which was held only by clips near the ceiling, and when it dropped, the flat topped turret of a Debilitater sat on the floor, with the directional antenna dish pointed at the center of the room. There were cables running into a Faraday cage, placed within the larger similar cage around the entire room.

“Wow, you have a Debilitater! Operational, I presume.”

“Certainly. You may have noticed the wire mesh, at edge of the old style door when you entered?”

“Yes, covered with a protective Smart Plastic veneer to hold the copper mesh in place, to prevent tears in the thinner sheets we’re using. The same color of veneer was on the rest of the outside of the wall that I could see. I’d assumed you’d shielded this entire lab, and your people, from a possible Debilitater attack if the Empire found us. I’ve seen whole blocks of residential units treated the same way.”

Rafe gestured at the smaller cage. “The fusion bottle, frequency generators, and the control system for the Debilitater are in there, to protect the testers. All we lack is the ability to rotate the antenna. As you probably have just surmised, the entire room is not really shielded from rays from the outside. It’s to protect those outside from this.”

“Ahh. You set this lab up for observing the effects of the radiation on test subjects. To gage how effective any biological based protection is. This does seem like progress, if you have subjects to test with this. Is that why I’m here?”

Rafe beamed. “Yes. Aldry is bringing two test subjects from our gene lab right now. Your time is limited, so why don’t we get inside the smaller cage and seal it, and I’ll apply power to the generator, so that it’s ready to output the complex Debilitater radiation pattern when we’re ready. I just Comtapped Aldry and she’ll be here in a minute.”

Rafe was meticulous when he closed the door on the smaller cage, and used a harmless form of radiation from a transmitter in the outer room, to ensure the cage was actually sealed and leak proof. “It wouldn’t do to let that radiation leak into here.” He chuckled grimly.

The Ragnar generator powered up in complete silence, but lights and digital gages, showing indecipherable Ragnar characters glowed. “It’s ready to go, and I only have to press that actuator with the safety interlock, to feed the signal to the antenna. It’s already aimed at that table at the far wall, where the test subjects will be.”

“What sort of living subjects do you have? And how effective is the protection?’

Rafe displayed a tentative, almost secretive smile. “One is from the original kuttlefish species Aldry and I studied. The other is a more complex land based animal.”

“Oh. So kuttlefish were already immune to Debilitater rays?”

“Not at all. Their natural protection was evolution guided, protecting them only from their own natural predators. A Debilitater is nearly as fatal to them as it is for us. Salt water provides some protection, diluting the energy. However, it’s easy to turn that dial,” he pointed, “and increase the power for greater penetration. As shallow water animals, they’d be as doomed as any other life on Koban that didn’t live in the ocean depths.”

A sound of disapproval was in Mirikami’s next words. “I don’t want you to kill a kuttlefish with this weapon just to show me it works.”

Rafe looked surprised, and then laughed. “Hell no! I’ve grown to like the clever little squirts. And Squirt is the name I gave to the particular one Aldry is bringing here. They move via a sort of hydro jet propulsion you know, so Squirt is sort of a pet now. Although he bites the hand that feeds him if you aren’t careful.” He flashed a healing scar on his left index finger.

“We sped up our research hugely, by testing gene changes in creatures that already had the carbon nano tube biofilms we wanted to mimic. Squirt is no longer equipped to survive in the wild, not if confronted by the native predators that usually threaten him. However, he has little to fear from a Debilitater. Unless it fell on him.” He chuckled at his little witticism.

“What is the other…,” Mirikami’s question was interrupted by a cheerful voice.

Aldry swept gracefully through the single outer door, and called out, “Hey Tet. Good morning. I’d have been here when you arrived, but Rafe and I expected you to ask for a full briefing about our work so far. He says you’re in a rush, so let’s get going.” With one hand on its bottom, she carried a ten-gallon rectangular aquarium tank, full of water and containing a yellow-bodied kuttlefish with black spots. The two-foot size marked it as still young, since they grew to nearly five feet long at maturity.

Even as he watched, the kuttlefish seemed to see Mirikami through the mesh webbing, and instantly changed to a color that nearly matched the pale blue wall color. This caused it to nearly vanish from view against that background, as seen through the clear water. Aldry, her Kobani strength easily lofting the tank one handed, carried it like a serving tray as she paused to pull the outer door shut, then turned and walked to the table. There, she used her other hand to help and smoothly deposited the tank with hardly a ripple, and not a drop spilled.

As she stood behind the tank, Mirikami was amused to see half of the kuttlefish shift color from pale blue to white, along the vertical line of the right side of her lab coat, seen behind the creature, letting it blend better with the changed background.

Aldry saw his smile and noted where he was looking. “Squirt is comfortable with Rafe and me, and the yellow with black spots is his happy color. He always gets food treats when we take him out of our main lab, so he arrived happy. He has good vision and he doesn’t know you, so he’s doing his best to hide from you in plain sight.” She reached into a pocket and tossed a thumb sized treat into the tank.

With a brief flash of yellow, no spots this time, the kuttlefish jetted to the food and its tentacles scooped it into its beak. It changed back to a pale blue, and settled into a corner of the tank, away from the white lab coat.

Rafe said, “I have the frequency generator already powered up. If you seal the door behind you, we can show Tet what we’ve accomplished.” He turned away from his wife, to examine the modulation settings on the Ragnar device, as she moved towards the door.

Mirikami assumed she was leaving, to fetch the second test subject, or to get out of the way for the test on the kuttlefish. She paused to look at a small wall panel near the door, and thumped the door with the heel of her hand, to verify it was securely closed.

At the sound of the thud, Rafe said, “OK. Here goes nothing.” He reached to lift the safety cover over the actuator switch, to send the generator’s energy to the Debilitater’s antenna, for transmitting the deadly radiation.

Tet went from watching Aldry stop by the door instead of leaving, heard the dull thud of her hand, and Rafe’s casual words coming immediately afterwards. Mirikami glanced at Rafe, his head was down and not looking out into the room.

Mirikami instantly went into Kobani combat mode, where events appeared to slow for him, as he realized the thud of Aldry’s hand on the door sounded exactly like the sound it made when it was pulled shut, a noise he’d heard twice since he’d arrived.

He spun and leaped, shouting, “Stop!”

The leap and warning would have been in time if Rafe was a Normal, but like any Kobani, he moved with complete assurance, and did so quickly. He’d acted promptly, to demonstrate an experiment he’d performed numerous times, to show the person that needed this project to succeed. He flipped the switch a hundredth of a second before he heard Mirikami’s shout, and the transmission that he activated needed only microseconds to radiate away from the antenna, filling the room, and reflecting millions of times from the walls.

Mirikami heard Aldry’s shout, just before he knocked Rafe’s hand away, and slammed the switch back down. Startled, Rafe looked at him in bewilderment.

“Was I in time?” He feared rising to his feet, in order to look over the blocking console, to see Aldry’s contorted form on the floor.

“In time for what?” Rafe asked, looking down at Mirikami. He’d still not looked up yet.

“Aldry didn’t get out of the room in time,” he said with dread.

“Why would I do that?” He heard her voice and footsteps as she ran their way.

“Rafe heard the sound of the door closing, and was about to activate the beam, thinking you’d left. I must have prevented the system from activating. I thought I was too late when I heard you shout.”

“I called out ‘what?’ because you yelled stop, and I saw you jump at Rafe.”

“Well, at least the radiation wasn’t broadcast.” He said with relief.

“Yes it was,” she told him. “Not for long, but at a high strength.”

“Huh?” Was his clever comeback. Followed by an inane sounding question. “Why aren’t you dead?”

She quickly pieced together what he’d thought happened. “Well, the thump was to verify the door was securely shut, which we do every time on that old style hinged door. That was as I confirmed we had an indication of a good electrical seal with the copper mesh, via the door monitor panel. I’m alive, because the kuttlefish is alive.”

“Wait. You mean the kuttlefish is alive because the it has Debilitater protection.” His eyes widened as the truth came home to roost. “You have the same mod?”

“Wow, and we’re counting on your quick mind to save our butts?” She grinned.

Mirikami, relieved, paraphrased as he mocked himself with a lip tug. “The wheels may turn slowly, but they grind exceedingly fine.”

Rafe, a bit annoyed that Mirikami thought he’d have been so careless where his wife’s safety was concerned, complained, “Had you let me give you my carefully rehearsed briefing, we’d have told you all of this.”

Excited, and ignoring Rafe’s tone, Mirikami asked, “Does it work at the full range of frequency adjustment they use? How about power levels and range? Does…,” Aldry put an index finger on his lips.

“Have you got time for a fuller briefing now?” She laughed at his blush of embarrassment.

“I’ll make time.” And he did, for the next two hours. He watched an uninterrupted test this time. He was told by Aldry that she had to physically tense up or relax her skin surface via the early clone heat or cold mod adaptations. This was to adjust the gaps in the two carbon nanotube films under her skin, when the Debilitater beam modulation was adjusted.

What Mirikami had first thought was Aldry’s slightly deeper Koban suntan, proved to be from the double layer of carbon nano tubes, grown under her normal skin color.

“Length of time for completing this mod on a new subject?” He asked.

“With the new generation of soft tissue nanites we have for this, we can get it done in a week, accompanied by an annoying feeling of itchiness, which requires a skin cream and moisturizer to sooth. We didn’t produce these nanites ourselves, by the way. They were an outgrowth of our setting up field hospitals on migration ships, for PU casualties that were injured when fighting the Krall. We discovered that laser burns on PU soldiers were healing faster than they were on our spec ops Kobani, using our specialized med labs. We bought the nanites from the Hub provider. Naturally, we stole the templates and modified them for our purpose, and our physiology.” She didn’t sound the least bit contrite at the admitted theft of valuable proprietary technology.

“Well, it isn’t the first time we swiped that sort of tech.” Mirikami admitted.

“The same Hub medical provider has obtained dozens of samples of ours, which we modified from those we obtained illegally years ago. So I think we’re even in that department.”

“Was itchiness the only side effect?”

Rafe scratched his forearm as he considered this. “No, but Aldry has to demonstrate that. My mod is only two days old.”

“It’s in progress on you? No long term med lab treatment needed?”

“Just an hour for the complete virus carrier injections. After that, you eat a bit more and you should bathe twice a day, to shed replaced skin above the nanotube films being grown.”

He turned to Aldry. “What side effect?”

“I disagree with Rafe that it’s a side effect. Do you remember that we said kuttlefish were bite resistant from predators that managed to get hold of them? The carbon nanotubes are very tough and resilient, as well as very flexible. See if you can feel a difference.” She offered her forearm.

A series of touches, and squeezes, and Mirikami admitted he felt no difference. “Do you want me to bite you?” he laughed.

“Dull human teeth aren’t a good test, and I wouldn’t want to temp a rhinolo’s horn, or a rippers fangs. Thorns only cause shallow and trivial surface scrapes, and no blood, and can’t penetrate. I used an anesthetic to conduct a test I was afraid to try otherwise, and I’d still be fearful to let anyone else try it on me. I tried to cut myself with a sharp pointed blade, and when it had no more effect than the thorns, I stabbed more forcefully at my forearm, the one you just felt, and I didn’t break skin on what would have previously penetrated at least an inch I think.”

Mirikami was definitely interested in this. “You saw what happened to my knuckles, when I smashed them through Telour’s chest and ribs in that melodramatic fight on Earth. They were badly cut, right down to the bone in multiple places.”

“Not with this mod, Tet. You might bruise some tissue, but it won’t rip open or cut easy, and our bones don’t break. I’d say punch away. It might hurt some, but the actual damage should be slight.”

“Let me call Maggi, to see if she has an hour to spare. I want her to be Debilitater ray proof, before we enter Empire Space again.”

Rafe smiled knowingly. “We already had a med lab set up for you, and we can do another one for Maggi.”

Not surprised at that admission, he told them, “I want you to scale up for mass mods. We’ll free as much capital as it takes to provide this for every Kobani. I don't know how difficult this would be to do for nonhumans, probably impossible for a Torki. At least discuss it with them, even though they’ve turned down our other offers. I think our rippers might consider this, since it isn’t a hunting advantage if a rhinolo still has the strength to kill them with its horn.”

“Oh. And let me tell you how proud I am of you two. We ducked Debilitater attacks on Tanner’s by staying in armor, and the orbital lasers there were new to the Ragnar, so they kept the Stranglers away from the cities they attacked, intending to knock those batteries out first. The population had fled their homes and towns ahead of them, so not very many suffered from that weapon, but the couple of hundred that did, died very badly. With this new nanite tech, I’ll bet even a Normal human might want to be protected by this mod. I’ll ask Stewart to bring up the subject of this protective gene mod with the PU ambassador, when he arrives. At some point the dam will burst, and waves of Normals are going to want what we have.”

****

Mirikami was well behind on his scheduled visit to the physics department. “Sorry I’m late, Blue, Coldar. I’ll apologize to Max later. I understand he had somewhere else to go. Like I mentioned by Comtap, our gene lab solved the problem of Kobani vulnerability to Debilitater rays. Maggi will be in a med lab for another half hour. Aldry is already immune to the radiation, and Rafe is about half done growing the same nanotube radiation shield. Maggi and I let them initiate the mod for us, and it only takes six or seven days to achieve complete protection. Excuse me if I seem preoccupied with rubbing my skin today, there’s a temporary side effect while the nanites do their work.”

The Raspani understood human gestures fairly well now, and he shook his head to portray a human representation of the dismay he felt. “Many times you have seemed brilliant and highly rational to me, Tet. Then you display the group insanity that humanity is well known for, doing something incredibly dangerous to yourself, or for your species. This is a gene modification from an alien animal, transmittable to your offspring. To my people, that represents a greater risk to your species longevity than the problem you faced. If the enemy discovered you here, Kobani survivors could flee to a distant region of space and start again.”

Mirikami wasn’t the least receptive to that suggestion. “How well did that tactic work for the Olt’kitapi, some of whom ended up hiding in the Empire, or as captives of the Thandol. Would running have helped the other species that faced the Krall, if they had eventually spread throughout the entire galaxy, as they planned to do? In the Sagittarius Arm, besides the Thandol presence there, we know there are the Ragnar, Finth, and Thack Delos. No matter where you go, a warlike species will eventually find you.

“What would you do for the preservation of your species? When there is nowhere left to hide from aggressors? We humans would rather stand our ground here, where we have all of our resources. It’s our best chance at victory. We’ll win any way we can, or we’ll die fighting.” He scratched his arm.

“Or die itching.” Coldar observed, provoking a laugh from Mirikami.

“It’s temporary, and preferable to a torturous and permanent death.” He rubbed in the skin cream he’d been given, but only on his bare arms. He didn’t drop his pants to do his legs, or the equally uncomfortable private regions.

He damn well didn’t want to hear alien comments about his ridiculous need for clothing and modesty, in the face of what they claimed was excessive human interest in non-reproductive sex. To their way of thinking, his going naked would reasonably complement that odd human preoccupation.

He needed to speed them up, to get back on schedule for the rest of the day. “Where is this new rail gun you want me to test against enemy ships?”

Coldar’s rigid crab features didn’t reveal his confusion, but Blue’s suddenly smoothed forehead, and sucked-in plump lips revealed his lack of understanding. He asked, “What new rail gun? It isn’t electromagnetic at all, which would spoil your stealth anytime it was used. I suppose you could call it a gravity tube gun.”

“Uh…, OK,” Mirikami said. “Thad saw one of them uninstalled, and said it resembled a very long rail gun.”

“Oh. I guess there’s a slight shape similarity I suppose.” Coldar admitted. “Although, it’s much longer than those rail guns you use on orbital defense platforms. Ours is almost as long as a Scout ship, and runs between the two gravity projectors, which will accelerate the projectile through the vacuum tube. The tube Thad saw didn’t have a rail gun’s coils around the barrel, no fusion bottle for power, or any surrounding magnetic shielding to suppress its signature when fired.”

“A gravity gun? Can that deliver much velocity? Gravity is the weakest force. I mean, a child’s toy magnet lifts a metal button against the gravity of an entire planet.”

Blue seemed amused. “Were the Olt’kitapi gravity projectors too weak to disrupt planetary cores?”

Mirikami, who knew the two scientists too well to make an unpleasant accusation, started with what little he understood. “Well, the projectors didn’t directly tear the planets apart with gravity. They formed a small Jump Hole inside them from a distance, with core metals trapped inside. Somehow, they allowed tachyons to leak in gradually, converting that matter into energy in the form of ultrahigh energy gamma ray photons. Those photons in turn would spontaneously form pair particles of matter and antimatter. By some probability manipulation that we don’t understand, possibly using the fifth force they discovered, they caused more antimatter to form than matter. The opposite of how matter formed the leftover excess in our Universe after the Big Bang. They preserved the gradually accumulating antimatter excess until it was allowed to rotate into Normal Space. That’s what tore the cores apart, not gravity.”

Now he wanted them to explain this unsettling reference to tearing planets apart. “I thought we didn’t know how to do that, and we all agreed that we didn’t want to learn how, as part of a weapons system.”

The shocked reaction displayed by the two aliens would have been apparent to anyone, even if you knew nothing about the Torki or Raspani.

Coldar dropped his carapace to the floor with a thump, as if his eight legs couldn’t support his weight. The Raspani flinched, his upright torso drawing back, arms crossing over his face as if Mirikami had moved to strike him.

Instantly apologetic, Mirikami said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult either one of you. But Blue, you implied a gravity projector had the strength to destroy a planet. How is that ability going to launch a high velocity projectile? By forming antimatter for propulsion energy? If we create antimatter, eventually our enemy will as well.”

The Raspani relaxed, replacing his previous expression with one of bemusement. “How would we make antimatter, and why would we do that even if we could?” He shivered, a reaction that was the same as in humans.

Only a suicidal human could even have contemplated such a dangerous possibility, Blue thought, as his shock passed.

With Mirikami’s concern understood, misplaced as it was, Coldar said, “Please allow us to explain what we actually can do. Max Born’s design for the new gravity projectors can accurately focus a gravity field around an object, say an asteroid of a few tons, located millions of miles away from the ship, to move it, or even to form a small Jump Hole and rotate it into Tachyon Space for towing transport if desired. How small do you think we can focus an artificial gravity field within the length of a Scout, say between the projectors?”

“Uh…, I don’t have a clue.” Mirikami admitted. “Gravity isn’t exactly my specialty.”

“No,” Blue said, “but tactical and strategic thinking are your strong points, and we believe you can make use of what we can offer you. The focal region can be made miniscule at such a short range.” He held a thumb and finger up, with a gap between them that scarcely showed any separation.

“We have excellent focusing close to the projectors, and very precise control over where the center of that focal point is generated. We can shift that focal point with considerable exactness and speed, to move it along a straight line between the projectors, and even outside of the ship, although with less exact precision as the distance away increases to hundreds of miles. The straight line we would use inside a Scout is the centerline of the evacuated launch tube we plan to install along the long axis of the ship, mounted near the ceiling, just as long as the spacecraft. A half-meter long dense metal projectile will be accelerated along that tube, in vacuum, by the gravitational attraction of our focused point of gravity. There is no propulsion force pushing it, just gravitational attraction.”

He directed Mirikami’s attention to a gleaming silvery rod sitting on a table, sharply tapered at both ends, perhaps a half meter long and no thicker than his thumb, with what appeared to be a thin glass coating.

“That is one of our projectiles. Neither the gravitational focal point, nor that rod, must make contact with the tube during launch. Until the rod leaves the tube it is magnetically levitated to avoid contact, and the magnetic field we use is shielded from external detection because the tube doesn’t extend beyond the stealth effect of the ship’s hull.

“The rod is accelerated from the center part of the tube in either direction, exiting at the ship’s front or rear, depending on the command given to the Scout’s AI. You’ll use the AI’s navigation steering control to aim the Scout towards, or away from a target, but gravitational steering and acceleration continues after launch, by continuously shifting the gravity field focal point in front of the rod. Initially, there will only be four projectiles held in a replaceable, pre-evacuated magazine, which can slide reload projectiles into the center part of the tube. If this system proves as effective as we hope, then larger magazines can be produced, and multiple launchers can be installed on our larger ships.”

Mirikami was surprised at how the two scientists, both from non-aggressive species, had voluntarily considered the details of making a new weapon. Clearly, humans were having a bad influence on previously pacifist races. Except, his gut told him that such a low energy propulsion system couldn’t make it as effective a projectile weapon as a rail gun, or as the sliver gun sniper rifle, both of which used magnetic acceleration coils. Nevertheless, he respected their desire to contribute to the defense of the Federation.

Blue wasn’t finished yet. “For a quicker magazine change, the launch tube has two vacuum seals, near the center of the tube, to allow a new magazine to be inserted. Any air that leaks into the tube must be removed, which is vital, and those molecules are flushed out by several fast cleaning runs, using a weaker gravity field, clearing both ends of the launcher before you can fire the next projectile. Does that make sense to you, Tet?”

After his previous error in judgment concerning his two friend’s research, Mirikami answered carefully, using more tact this time.

He began with compliments. “You’ve done a remarkable job of studying the requirements for this weapon, and outside of the complex gravity projectors required, which already exist, it’s an incredibly simple concept, with the only moving physical part being the projectile, which due to levitation, never touches anything, so it’s as frictionless as a rail gun projectile. The shifting focal point for the gravity field isn’t anything material, so there’s no heating or wear and tear on the launch tube, which I’ll admit is superior to a rail gun that suffers from overheating.”

Now, he eased gently into his critique. “To be effective against an enemy ship or orbital platform, a projectile weapon like the PU’s railgun platform sends hundreds of massive slugs at orbital velocities, and spreads them out to overwhelm a target’s ability to avoid them, or to use their lasers to vaporize them. The sliver gun, the spec ops premiere sniper rifle, isn’t fast firing, and uses a one and a half gram, tungsten carbide and cobalt covered sliver of metal, fired at a velocity of around ten miles per second.”

He summarized their advantages and shortcomings. “The PU’s rail guns send two pound slugs of dense depleted uranium, in large enough numbers to do significant physical damage, but they can be detected and avoided, or hit by defensive lasers, and they kick back the gun platforms. The sliver gun fires an ultrafast tiny projectile with great accuracy, and the far higher velocity makes it impossible to intercept or avoid. However, the tiny sliver only has enough energy to do localized damage, although with considerable penetration. And they also have a recoil problem.” Now he provided practical details, to let them figure out on their own why their weapon wouldn’t measure up to either of his examples, let alone be an improvement.

“Your longer rod probably has four or five times the mass of a rail gun slug, but the PU rail guns send hundreds of slugs at a target in seconds, with a closing velocity of eighteen or twenty thousand miles per hour, comparable to orbital velocities, because the platform is also in orbit. When there are a lot of guns and thousands of slugs, they’re harder to intercept with lasers, and a spread of them is difficult for a ship to avoid. In spite of that, good armor, as most warships have, will reduce the damage when they do strike.

“A sliver gun’s needle is traveling much faster than a rail gun slug, about ten to twelve miles per second, depending on the power setting, but it has little more mass than a fly. It does impressive damage, penetrating deep for its tiny size, and is impossible to track and hit with a laser. Against a ship or a space dock, it’s a mere insect bite.”

He waited for their logic to deduce what the limits and vulnerability would be for a low rate of fire weapon, with a slow moving massive projectile. They had brilliant scientific minds, so it wasn’t a long wait.

Coldar said, “I have never heard of a sliver gun. That was a curious comparison, although I think one that is completely inapplicable to our current project.” He was capable of some degree of tactfulness.

Blue was less tactful, to the point of uncharacteristic bluntness. “Those are altogether pointless comparisons. Our heavier projectile will reach over a hundred miles per second before it even reaches the end of the launch tube, and increases its velocity by at least a factor of ten after that. Unlike your examples, it can receive guidance after exiting the launcher, to improve accuracy if your aim wasn’t too far off from the optimum impact point. The rod will strike its target with perhaps a million times the force of a smaller rail gun slug, and arrive with a vastly higher velocity than does the sliver gun’s projectile. Would that do significant damage?”

To say Mirikami was taken aback would be a gross understatement. “How in hell can you combine their features, and then increase the best aspects of both of those examples, high mass and high velocity, with a weapon you told me is powered only by gravity?”

Coldar asked a basic question, hoping to add a measure of scientific understanding to Mirikami’s misunderstanding of gravity. “Could your new ship, the Mark II, lift off from the surface of a neutron star, assuming it could have survived the landing without being crushed to a smear of atoms?”

“I…, well I don't know. I never gave something like that any thought, or ran a calculation. The Normal Space drive is all that would be available to my ship in that deep a gravity well. We would need a high energy tachyon, caught prior to entering the gravity well, with a mass energy equivalent to or greater than that of the neutron star.” He saw what was being implied, and offered a counter point.

“There isn’t any ship, or crew, that can survive a projected gravity field with the mass of a star inside the volume of its hull. We’d collapse into what would become a black hole, at nearly the velocity of light, not even rotating into Tachyon Space since we’d fall into that from outside the event horizon.”

Blue looked at Coldar, who rotated one eyestalk towards his cohort and said, “Our friend seems to have the capacity to understand the forces involved, but I believe his everyday physical experience with gravity is obscuring his ability to extrapolate.”

Mirikami was annoyed, being talked about as if he wasn’t here. “Blue, your friend has the capacity to listen to you if you’d bother to explain it to a nonscientist. I keep telling everyone that I’m a simple Spacer. Explain to a Spacer how gravity will push a rod out of that launcher at thousands of miles per second.”

Coldar modified his explanation, to draw on the experience of the only Spacer in the room. “First, there is no push involved with gravity. If the Mark was at the surface of a normal sized G class star, could its Normal Space drive pull it away?”

“Again, no one would deliberately try that as a test, but I know that it could.”

Blue pounced on his admission. “Excellent. I’m confident you can tell us why the Mark could pull away from the surface of the G class star Coldar described, but probably not from the surface of a far smaller neutron star. What is the difference in those two cases?”

“The force of gravity, naturally. It’s proportional to the square of the distance from the center, and the total mass involved. Closer in, the greater the force, or the greater the space-time curvature, if you prefer. But there can’t be that great a concentration of mass placed close to, let alone inside a ship. How do you propose to do that?”

“Tet, we didn’t say the mass would approach the mass of a star, or even of a planet while the focal point is within the ship’s hull. That was your assumption, because in your everyday experience strong gravity comes from large masses with considerable physical size, and you normally walk on the surface of a planet, far from its center of gravity. Collapsing Koban’s sun into a black hole wouldn’t affect the orbits of its planets. They would be subject to the same curvature of space-time, keeping them moving in their present orbits. As you would agree, you can’t get too close to that event horizon or your Normal Space drive can’t pull you away.”

Mirikami asked, “How small of a mass are you considering, and how close will it be to the rod?”

“It’s small enough and massive enough to produce a tiny black hole at the scale we need, but too low of a total mass to significantly attract objects more than a hand span away. It is mass energy in a very small package, but not massive enough to affect the rest of the ship. Being a mini black hole is why we can’t let it touch the sides of the launcher or the end of the projectile, or it would eat groves in our tube and destroy the tip of the rod. That isn’t a problem, not with the atomic level of precision we can use to position the focal point of the gravity field, when it’s physically close to the projectors.”

“OK, so I presume you put the mass of a mountain in your black hole, but that’s not a lot of attraction. I’ve walked on ten-mile-wide asteroids, and a hard toe tap could have put me in orbit.”

“The mass of an even larger asteroid is more like what we use, but as you say, not a lot of attraction, since you could easily fly off its surface if you flexed your foot too hard. In Haven’s gravity, such a mass held a foot over your head would only lift your hair against Haven’s thousands of miles more remote center of gravity. Distance is again the key.”

Trying to be patient, Mirikami reminded them. “I arrived here late because of the visit to the gene labs. I’m not regaining any of that lost time.”

Blue spoke faster. “We can place that mini black hole’s event horizon an atom’s width from the end of the rod. As the rod is attracted to it, the AI will shift the gravitational focal point ahead of the rod’s movement. The acceleration is continuous, there is no back reaction from a thrust on the rod because we are not pushing against its mass. It is essentially in free fall towards that strong gravitational focal point, with the ship’s gravity being insignificant.

“The acceleration of gravity is directly proportional to the mass, and inversely proportional to the distance squared.” He wrote the formula on a wall screen, of g=G*M/R^2.

“If we reduce a given separation distance, R, in half, the resulting acceleration is four times higher. We maintain the separation between the rod and the black hole at about the width of a hydrogen atom, so the acceleration is large even though the mass isn’t stellar in scale, and we keep moving the black hole ahead of the rod via our gravity projectors, using the immense tachyon power available to us. We are stealing some small measure of that energy to move the rod, magnifying the effect for the weak force of gravity.

“It’s advantageous because we have unlimited energy which we can control precisely, the launch has no back reaction on the ship, the rod’s speed makes it all but undetectable when fired, and using our gravity projectors, it can change course as it accelerates away, making it hard to detect, and nearly impossible to hit. It probably can’t be traced back to the invisible small ship where it originated if we curve its course slightly as it accelerates, at an ever increasing rate.”

“How does it keep accelerating, and receive steering?” Mirikami wondered.

Once the rod clears the launcher, and pulls a safe distance from the ship, we can greatly increase the tachyon energy fed into the gravitational field, increasing the effective mass of the mini black hole, and the acceleration will increase dramatically. We gradually increase the event horizon’s spacing ahead of the rod with increasing distance, due to focusing uncertainty with greater range, but we think we can achieve a significant fraction of the velocity of light within a few miles, one percent, or a bit more.”

“You mean over a thousand eight-hundred miles per second? What’s the rod made of? If it’s dense and heavy, it would pulverize whatever it stuck, or punch straight through.”

“We made them from a steel and tungsten alloy for toughness, tapered at both ends with a lonsdaleite sheath around the entire thing for hardness, since it can be launched in either direction. We are calling them gravrods, to distinguish them from different types of rods for other purposes.”

“I guess toughness helps it penetrate. What is that hard glass coating? Long daylight is what it sounded like you said.”

Coldar corrected him. “The name is lonsdaleite. I researched Torki and Raspani databases, asked the Prada elders for their memories, and dug through human technical libraries. Lonsdaleite is an unusual form of carbon that never forms in quantity, or in a pure form in nature. It’s sometimes called hexagonal diamond, which is about 58% harder than cubic diamond on one face of that crystal form. It can resist indentation pressures of 152 of the units your physics calls gigapascals, or GPa. This compares to the cubic diamond crystal, of the gem stone variety, which breaks at 97 GPa.

“Microscopic crystals of lonsdaleite are often formed from carbon embedded in asteroids that create large impact craters, but the crystals have many defects and impurities that weaken them. The Raspani discovered a chemical vapor deposition method, using their fifth-force boring tool to breakdown pure carbon molecules, while they are being held in a powerful magnetic field arrangement, to build up pure hexagonal crystals on a substrate. That gas deposition method was able to coat our tungsten-steel alloy rod with a thin crystal shell in several minutes. However, I believe you misunderstand the reason for the toughness of these gravrods. A flat plate made of water ice, with the same mass and velocity would be just as damaging, but we couldn’t launch something that fragile using this method.”

Mirikami grimaced. “That’s hardly the first misconception I’ve suffered through today. Tell me why the rods toughness, hard surface, and pointy ends aren’t needed for penetrating the target.”

“The projectile needs to hold together at whichever sharply pointed end is closest to the event horizon. The gravrods must resist the extremely high gravitational attraction, which might otherwise elongate the tips if they were allowed to stretch towards the edge of the extremely close mini black hole. The tough metal and that rigid hard coating helps hold the rod’s shape, and keeps the tips attached to the widening rod behind them, preventing the projectile from pulling apart.

“I suspect a Spacer will have heard the word spaghettification in discussions about what happens to objects falling into a black hole. Near a black hole the tidal forces are so powerful that no object can resist being deformed, no matter how strong its components. We maintain the position of our mini black hole just beyond where that effect would become irresistible for the rod, but close enough that the acceleration is high. A stronger rod allows that distance to be microscopically shorter. Once the rod’s velocity is great enough, it could strike the target sideways and still do enormous damage.”

Mirikami nodded. “I’ll accept your assurance that it will work, but I have to see it in operation to best judge how we can use it in combat. What level of damage could you predict for an impact on something like a Ravager, which is the standard Ragnar space combat ship, close in capability to a clanship in firepower, and which has an ability to take considerable damage?”

Blue said casually, “A hit on the nose or tail, directly in line with the central axis, might possibly kill everyone inside, and rupture their fusion bottles, primarily from the conical spray of ultrahigh velocity vaporized gases and molten metal debris from the point of contact. I doubt if four gravrods would be enough to kill all of the personnel aboard a Smasher, because it has a pyramidal design with a four-axis structure. If you managed to launch a rod into a side, reaching their deeply buried central fusion generators, that explosion might destroy the vessel from the center, in one or two shots.”

Mirikami wanted to make certain he’d heard Blue correctly. “A Ravager destroyed with one shot, and a Smasher gone or disabled using two of the four shots available in a single magazine for a Scout?”

“We believe that is possible, if you carefully target the enemy ships.” Coldar confirmed. “The operational magazines will hold ten gravrods for a Scout.”

Mirikami idly scratched at his itchy rump, his mouth stretched wide and showing white teeth. Blue had to remind himself that in a human, this wasn’t the Raspani frown of deep disapproval, that the captain was actually quite pleased, despite the opposite seeming expression.

“My sincere thanks to you Blue, and to you too Coldar. I no longer consider my day to have fallen several hours behind schedule. In fact, I’m days ahead of where I thought I would be by now.”

****

Starting his mission had actually taken more than the few days Mirikami felt he’d saved on that one productive afternoon. Because the results were promising, he’d postponed his and Maggi’s mission into the Empire to test Scout ship performance. The mission had expanded to five Scout ships, and it was delayed for two weeks. That was to complete the cuttlefish skin mod for the twenty Kobani going along, and to install and then live test the gravity guns on each of the small ships.

The gunnery test was accomplished in a nearby elderly stellar system, which harbored no exploitable rocky planets. There were three giant planets, a hot Jupiter with an orbital period of only two days around the small red M class star, and two Neptune sized planets. One was an ice giant, like its namesake, and orbiting in the cold outer region. The third was a similar size world, but had a bloated atmosphere because it was well inside the narrow goldilocks zone for the dim old star. The ices from its long ago formation in the outer system having been evaporated by billions of years residing in an orbit with a “year” lasting nine days. It had interacted over eons with the original planetary disk, and had long ago migrated inwards. It now was the shepherd of millions of asteroids in a heavily populated band located between it and the largest planet. That was their “shooting gallery.”

Maggi took her last shot at a behemoth asteroid in the belt, a dwarf planet that was nearly six hundred miles in diameter. She launched her projectile from the rear of the Scout at nearly a million miles’ distance, and instructed her AI, Charles, to accelerate the rod only as long as it could do so effectively.

The AI told her, “Mam, distance to impact is about forty thousand miles, and the lag time for adjusting the focal point is too great for continued precision acceleration or guidance. I have rotated the black hole into Tachyon Space.” It ended its words with, “Estimated impact is now.”

The final words had required only fifteen seconds from the start of the announcement to the estimated impact. From forty thousand miles to contact, meant the rod must have achieved a velocity of around two thousand six-hundred miles per second. The exact velocity could be calculated more precisely later, but this test had defined the approximate distance from which precision placement of the gravitational focal point could reliably be maintained ahead of the projectile.

Sarge had tried a similar shot from double that range, and had aimed at the same crater on the same asteroid. His rod had come too close to the growing event horizon and had vanished from the universe before reaching the target.

Just over five seconds later, the visual evidence of the successful impact of Maggi’s shot arrived at the velocity of light. It was a surprisingly small flash of blue-white light and a smaller plume of debris than expected. It hit a half mile from the rim of the one-mile wide crater selected as their bullseye. The result on the far side of the spherical body was considerably greater. A miles wide circular region on the surface rock and ice mixture, of the unnamed dwarf world, bulged up by hundreds of feet. The lightest dusty material reacted stronger to the shock transmitted through the differentiated rocky core, and would either reach escape velocity, or perhaps form a set of future rings around the little world.

“Hah!” Sarge gloated over Comtap. “You couldn’t put it in the hole. If my AI hadn’t let the event horizon get so close to my shot, I’ll bet I’d have done better. I was on-target when I launched, from twice as far away as you.” He’d been trying to boost velocity by telling the AI to increase the black hole’s mass and to keep it close to his projectile over a greater distance.

Maggi retorted with a snort of humor. “You sure brag a lot for a man that shoots blanks, from a gun that’s too short.”

Mirikami prevented additional devolution of their usual wordplay. “I think we know enough about the limits of accuracy and range for the gravity guns. If we’re aiming at something large, like a moon base, we can probably hit that at a half million miles. However, as we just saw, it might be better to strike from the opposite side, if the base is on a small moon. The shock wave would probably ruin their day more thoroughly than a direct strike would.

“The small ship sized asteroids that we hit completely blew out the opposite side, and they fragmented from the internal explosive heating. Those precise hits proved what we anticipated; that we need to get closer to enemy ships or orbital platforms for the best targeting. I don’t think many warships can survive hits by these gravrods. They’ll need to step up laser defenses a great deal in order to have a hope of stopping them.

Dillon asked, “Tet, does this mean you think we’re ready to head into the Empire to give the Thandol reasons to delay their next attack? Or will we make a trip back to Koban to pick up more new Scouts, for a larger raid?”

“We haven’t proven that the Empire tachyon wake monitors can’t detect us at T-squared or T-cubed travel. I don't want to risk more Scouts before we know. Hell, I don't want to risk these, but we have to know.

“Before Maggi and I split off to visit Canji Mot and Canji Dol, and place the Hothor and Olt’kitapi at risk again, we need to hurt the Thandol bad, and make certain they aren’t able to track us, even when they’re really pissed off. Our own detectors can’t pick our slight wakes out of the noise background of random events in Tachyon Space, even if we know when a Scout passed by. That doesn’t mean their monitors can’t do that, and they’ve been at it for a long time, with races that want to move about unnoticed. We’ll go to Wendal via five different routes, with no attempted subterfuge this time, and find out if they react to us, as I’d expect if they detect us. Especially after our two previous kick-ass visits.”

“Are we going to go after the Emperor, if he’s in his big ass palace?” Thad had asked this earlier, receiving an inconclusive answer because the gravity guns needed testing. It was a move he supported, along with Sarge and Sergey Medlov, the latter sharing a Scout with his new wife, Carol Slobovic. The three men thought cutting off the head of the Empire would throw the Thandol into chaos, delaying their plans for taking on the Federation.

Maggi was the spoiler of that plan. “No. Killing the top politician might be chaotic in the PU, and perhaps for our fledgling government, because it would be unprecedented, and we aren’t accustomed to something like that. The Empire has literally had a hundred or more emperors killed and replaced, and they have processes to keep the Thandol rule of law in place over the rest of the empire, even as there is a narrow and limited struggle for the top leadership spot.

“However, it is chaotic and distracting, when there is a developing coup discovered in advance, and the present Emperor has a chance to thwart his opposition. The history we asked the Hothor to share with us, through the Olt’kitapi passing the stories along to their Dismantler AIs, describes behind the scenes panic in past Imperial Courts. Yet, in those cases, the outward face of the Empire was steady, and they were firmly in control of the other races.

“The Emperor typically becomes preoccupied with recruiting support from his own and other noble families, to promise, or even to grant immediate rewards and greater power sharing with them. That’s normally done face to face, or trunk to trunk in this case, traveling to meet with those they need to influence. The Emperor and his closest aids often become too preoccupied to worry about events outside of the Imperial Court. They won’t entirely trust their own military, if someone there is a high-ranking potential rival.

“As soon as the preoccupation with a coup subsides, with a new Emperor, or the old one still in power, that particular leader needs to prove they have a tight hold on government. They will do something to strengthen their hold on power, like annex a new species if one has been discovered recently, or raise taxes to pay benefits to those that backed the winner. Annexing us would accomplish both goals, so we have to prevent that.

“I intend to start a rumor there’s a coup planned, chose someone in the Thandol military heirarchy to be the patsy, and divert the Emperor’s plans against us by preventing the High Command from gathering a large fleet. He will be goaded into fearing the fleet could be turned against him.

“Simultaneously, we will try to stir up a revolt against the Thandol, or perhaps more than one, by their security forces. Or at least convince the Emperor that there are revolts developing, even if there are not. He won’t trust his own navy, and he’ll hesitate to let his security forces mobilize for attacks against us, because they might take advantage of his own weakness. We should gain time to grow stronger, and to convince the PU to form an alliance with us.”

She concluded. “It simply isn’t to our advantage to kill that wormy damned Emperor. In fact, I learned from our two captives about a debilitating parasitic alien gut worm, to which the Thandol are susceptible, and current drugs are not very effective. It’s not a fatal affliction, but damned if I won’t find a way to place some of the eggs in his personal browsing plots, inside the palace. He shares these with his favored females, and visiting nobles. He’ll be ankle deep from his own runny bowels while he fights a fictitious coup, and worries about revolts.”

Mirikami shared a self-fabricated image of himself with a lopsided smile. “With that pleasant bit of sabotage to soil our minds before dinner, every Scout should plot your own course to Wendal; to arrive roughly a million miles out of the planetary plane in three days, above the planet’s north pole as your reference. We Jump in five minutes.”

Chapter 11: No-see-ums and Rogues

All five Scouts made their exits within thirty minutes of Mirikami’s arrival, because he had taken the most direct route. If the Thandol detected them on the way and reacted, he intended to take the risk and warn the others while they were in Jump status.

At over five light-seconds from Wendal, seeing a startle reaction at the planet wouldn’t come instantly. Had the empire’s monitors detected the incoming five T-cubed tachyon traces over the last two days, headed towards the Emperor’s throne world, there might have been a massive welcoming committee already in space, watching for any unexpected arrivals.

Instead, everything seemed completely normal, with the expected busy comings and goings of the capitol of an interstellar empire. There was a mix of mostly commercial traffic, ships of various designs representing different species, and a few itinerant military ships, some Ragnar, and based on size and combat suitable designs, there were two of what must be Finth and Thack Delos warships. There was a much larger Thandol navy presence than they saw on their only previous visit.

The conservative minded Thandol leadership hadn’t apparently figured out that a stunningly massive Crusher was a sitting duck for faster and more maneuverable and stealthy Federation ships, which could either wear it down, or gut it with a single Nova bomb. Perhaps the High Command had figured it out, but the Emperor probably demanded another Crusher, the Emperor’s Foot, to be made available as his personal transport. That was despite their telling him that he might become an unfortunate collateral target for Federation weapons, if he happened to be aboard.

Aside from a Crusher’s surprising vulnerability, the Thandol subscribed to the notion that their massive naval dominance made them too invincible to challenge in space. In actuality, it was their ability to pound the worlds of a suppressed species, which kept their enemies under control. The navy could also crush the worlds of the three security species, even if their smaller combat ships could outfight the Thandol, ship for ship. The Imperial Navy’s numbers advantage guaranteed certain victory. The High Command ensured that frequent inspections of their security forces effectively restricted construction of their T-cubed capable fleets to the permitted numbers, and that they didn't develop unauthorized weapons.

Mirikami acknowledged what the other four arrivals realized. “They don’t know we’re here.

“Let’s move in and mix with the local traffic, to learn what we can. Our masses are so low that their mass detectors should have trouble separating us from the thousand or so ships landing, departing, or entering orbit. Particularly if we stay close to larger ships.

“Keep your gravity guns loaded, in case we suddenly need to defend ourselves, but don’t do anything to attract attention. We want to reserve our first use of these guns for wherever they’re gathering their fleet, planning the next attack on Tanner’s World.”

Carson asked, “You don’t think the Ragnar admitted what they did?”

“Maggi and I don't think so. The two of us will scout out ways we can infiltrate down to the palace on a future trip, and spot the private quarters for the Emperor, so we can leave the parasite eggs once we have them.”

“What will the rest of us do here?” Sarge asked. “Besides prove we could sneak in unnoticed?”

“Scope out their defenses and identify targets for future attacks if our political plans fall apart. We want the Imperial Court to self-destruct, if we can make the Emperor paranoid enough. If not, we’ll help them along. We obviously didn’t have time when we were here previously to study this planet. There may be other ways we can cause problems here, which don’t point to the Federation as the cause.”

“Damn,” Reynolds complained. “That isn’t much fun. When do we get to blow some crap up?”

Maggi had his answer. “I asked the Hothor to send a vacationing royal court kitchen assistant back here this week, carrying one of our Prada com sets. The set is one we gave to the Olt’kitapi, for talking with the Dismantlers, and they made it a donation to him. The Hothor told us that the noble Thandol are careless in conversations around their servants, treating them like the furniture, speaking the proper high-level grammar, as if that keeps the hired help from understanding the incomplete translations. We think we’ll get some information on which star system is being used for the staging area, just to give you some shit to blow up, you whiny jackass.”

“Good.” Sarge acknowledged. Then whined, “I want another chance to prove I’m a better shot than you.”

As the five Scouts spread out, cautiously approaching Wendal, three large objects in a low orbit looked like ragged pieces of a Crusher.

Ethan hadn’t been on the first raid, and asked about the wreckage. “Are those large corner pieces from the Crusher you blew up, Uncle Tet?”

“They must be. They haven’t finished their orbital housekeeping, I guess.”

“I zoomed in on them,” Ethan said. “It appears there are crews removing parts. Odd place to do their scrap recovery, right over the capitol world.”

Mirikami offered his opinion. “The Ragnar didn’t know about our Jump Hole towing technique, because they were about to leave some damaged Pounders behind at Tanner’s. The Ragnar probably knew what the Thandol knew about the method, which is nothing. It does present a significant risk of cutting the towed object in half if you misjudge. Even the Krall didn’t use towing, but certainly not out of caution. Not until my old AI, Jake, proposed it to save the Flight of Fancy and many of her passengers.

“In this case, it looks like the Thandol left the quarter to half mile sized pieces of scrap where they ended up, to be dismantled in place.”

Carson had a comment, and a question. “The three pieces we see are in awfully low orbits, barely above the fringe of the atmosphere. There were four corners on that ship, wasn’t there Uncle Tet?”

“Yes. What are you getting at?”

“Three of them are relatively close together in equatorial orbits. Why isn’t the fourth corner with those three? There’s a large and recent scar on the planet, along the equator. Might it have entered the atmosphere?”

Mirikami thought back, reviewing the brief few seconds he’d had to set target coordinates for his Nova bomb. “The Crusher was oriented with one tip pointed at the planet, where they were using that corner for shuttle docking, for trips to and from the planet. I suppose the blast may have sent it lower, where drag brought it down. Why?”

“Wouldn’t it be a shame if the other three pieces encountered atmospheric drag, and came down the same way? How about if we help that along?”

There came a supportive comment from his father, Dillon. “Clever idea son. If those pieces crashed along those orbits, they would damage parts of their most concentrated industrial region. They’ve organized this planet with their population centers at temperate latitudes, and manufacturing near the cold poles and hot equator. That would do some damage to their local business plan.”

Alyson added a cautionary note, since she’d just realized her husband’s plan. “It requires us to use our gravity projectors to move them to a slightly lower orbit, to cause the drag. They probably have orbital tugs that pushed them to where they are now, close together, so it would have to happen suddenly enough that they couldn’t boost them higher in time to prevent deorbit.”

Mirikami tossed some cold water on moving the huge pieces lower in that fashion. “People, they know orbital mechanics as well as we do, and they or their AI’s would detect that all three independent sections moved at about the same time. The inference could lead them to guess how it might have been done, because the Olt’kitapi had that technology. They might then make the connection to us, as someone that potentially stole the technology. An accurate assessment, actually, and we don’t want to give that secret away too soon.”

He had an afterthought. “We won’t keep it secret long anyway, if we find where the fleet is that they plan to send to Tanner’s World. However, if we obviously use gravity control here and now, they could warn them to be on the alert for the effect, and avoid low orbits, for example.

“Although…,” he trailed off, and his friends imagined him pulling at his lower lip in thought. Their patient wait was rewarded.

“Those three big pieces are orbiting just higher than the upper wisps of atmosphere, and obviously they believe there’s time to complete dismantling them before increasing drag starts to pull them down. Atmospherics are fickle things, and I’ve experienced cases where the top height of a planetary atmosphere rose due to various causes. A geomagnetic storm, a major atmospheric storm, even a flare of solar radiation can influence the atmosphere to expand by many miles, even between day and night sides. The lowest short-term orbit is part of data provided to arrivals by most competent orbital control systems. I assume a busy place like this knows that altitude precisely. They probably placed those pieces about that high while being salvaged.”

“What are you thinking, Tet?” He had Thad’s interest.

“Rather than use our gravity projectors to move three distinct massive objects down into the upper atmosphere, why not use all of our projectors together, employing weaker and wider fields, to attract the atmosphere up to meet them? Once they hit a thicker region of atmosphere, they’ll lose some of their orbital velocity to drag, and will naturally settle into lower orbits, which will expose them to even greater drag, and slow them more. That should avoid the suspicious effect of three separately applied forces to dense masses. A single mild event, which gently raised the upper atmosphere might go unnoticed, or be considered a strange atmospheric anomaly. In any case, a single more natural seeming effect will act to slow all three objects simultaneously.”

Carson jumped on that idea eagerly. “How far do we have to raise the top of the atmosphere to do that?”

Mirikami was happy to give him a task. “You just said you knew where the top of the atmosphere is, and how low the debris orbits are. Ask your AI for the distance between them, and have it calculate the coefficient of drag for their broad cross sections. Find out how high the atmosphere needs to rise to drop them out of orbit. It has to happen faster than they can get their space tugs in place, to try to push them higher. In fact, all of you can work on this, and ask your AIs to consider any details that I forgot to mention.”

The task was taken on as a competition. A relatively short time later, Noreen was the first to announce her results.

“Got it! They’re now orbiting at close to a circular hundred thirty miles, which is above, but uncomfortably close to the Karman line, which for this low gravity planet is nearly eighty miles high. The Karman line is the point where air density greatly increases the drag forces. They experience drag all the time where they are, but at a rate so low that they have at least a year or more to complete the salvage operations.

“We need to bulge the thin upper atmosphere for perhaps twenty minutes ahead of them in their orbit, raising the Karman line briefly. That temporary drag will slow them enough to drop down close to the normal Karman line in about thirty hours. They’ll slow much faster after they hit that eighty-mile mark, slowing continuously for each orbit. I doubt if reentry could be reversed after that. I had already done a mass check on the pieces, wondering how much damage a gravity gun rod might do to an intact Crusher if we hit it at a corner. I discovered these three pieces are far less massive than they appear based on size. The salvagers apparently left the outer hull intact, probably as protection for workers, from all the small debris caused by the original explosion at that altitude. The big cross sections of the flat sides will cause them to deorbit faster than if they still had the extra internal mass to retain momentum.”

Mirikami was the first express his surprise. “Noreen, that sounds plausible, but how did your Scout AI finish that computation so quickly?”

Carson laughed. “Mom, did you cheat, or just give us a wild guess? My AI says it needs more time and more data. I hadn’t thought about doing a mass check at all.”

She sounded smug. “If you call my sending the information to the Avenger by Comtap, to let Karl use its military grade processor and software do the work, then yes, I cheated. Why would I wait for a Scout’s limited AI to plod through the computations when I have a better one on my ship back home?”

“Touché.” Mirikami conceded for them all.

Dillon, having Noreen’s data as reference, said, “We would have to gently draw up the thin atmosphere just in front of them. It could be confined to a small region that constantly rises ahead of them in their orbit. The atmosphere would sink back down behind them as they pass. With roughly twenty minutes of this treatment, the calculation suggests they’ll descend slightly, and experience enough drag at their new lower altitude to continue a natural orbital decay for a bit longer than a day. Each time they pass over the sunlit side, where the warming atmosphere has expanded slightly, that will increase the drag. I don’t think their entire fleet of space tugs could save all three sections, and possibly none of them if they don’t focus on just one.”

“We’ll do it,” Mirikami decided. “But only after we do full reconnaissance orbits, and get detailed images of the large Imperial Palace complex. I’m looking for a clear place a Scout can land direct from orbit, where the sound of the exit pop might not be noticed, and the stealthed boat won’t be bumped into by a passerby. My goal is for Maggi and I to use our armor to get to the grow-pads for the grasses the Emperor and his guests dine on, to spread the parasite eggs. We also have to get in and out of the Scout without anyone noticing the brief gap in stealth.

He grinned, “We obviously can’t advertise our departure with a thunderous Jump back to orbit. We’ll take the leisurely and scenic Normal Space drive route, even avoiding turbulence.”

Alyson offered an objection. “I think Carson and I make a better pair for that future mission. Our Secretary of Defense, slash Fleet Admiral, and the Federation’s Ambassador at Large, shouldn’t be risking their butts in enemy territory this way.”

Aware that others would echo that sentiment, Mirikami stopped it cold. “We don’t have a small child to leave orphaned, as you and Carson do. Besides, Maggi can use the visit to explore the living area near the Emperor a bit, and to see how the noble and royal Thandol live. We intend to conduct a partly psychological war on them, and the two people organizing that war need to know more about how the upper crust Thandol nobles live and think.”

Then Maggi revealed what was probably the true reason. “The two of us never get to have any fun in the field. If we screw this up and get our butt’s caught in a crack, we can fight them off as well as any of you can. I don’t see how they could stop us from reaching a stealthed Scout. If they do, we’ll hide or run until someone pops a Scout down to rescue our clumsy asses and recovers or destroys our ship. The Empire doesn’t have detectors that can see through our stealth, at least not yet. We’re doing it, so live with it! That means you too, Sarge.”

The silence was as eloquent as it was rare.

Mirikami broke the awkwardly quiet moment with cheerful banter. “OK, people, let’s go tippy toe once around Wendal.”

The five small ships followed separate paths around the heavily developed planet, recording what was seen in permanent orbit and on the surface. Not a thorough recon, but good enough for now. Three of them managed to cross over the thirty miles wide palace complex, with elaborate and expansive gardens, lush browsing areas, and elaborate security around the walls, and restrictions on traffic passing over at low orbitals.

There were several elaborate and presumably luxurious living areas, at least for an elephant-like browsing species. One, at the highest levels near the center of the large complex, seemed to be the most often used. It featured multiple large rectangular plots of a golden haze of knee high grass, waving gently in the breezes. This was presumably the highly prized golden sugar spears, and was reserved for the Emperor, royal nobles of the Imperial Court, or special guests of the Emperor.

Maggi told Tet, “If golden sugar spears are restricted to consumption by royalty, it’s the cultural equivalent to royal jelly for Earth honey bees. That’s a nutritious secretion fed to selected bee larva, causing them to develop into new queens. Having a plot of that royal grass give a totalitarian Emperor a case of the royal shits, is a small measure of justice.”

She was going to enjoy contaminating those plots with the fast maturing, hard to eliminate intestinal parasites. “Let the lords of the Thandol empire reap some of what they sow, when those lords are displeased with their unwilling peons.”

Maggi had learned from the Hothor that several of the plots were always in the process of being replanted, and rich new soil was dug for each one, by low class Thandol, which alien servants saw haul to the palace compound. The plots were worked only by those same trusted, wrinkled and elderly looking Thandol gardeners, who earned that honor over a lifetime of work.

Manual labor was normally reserved for alien workers, which were not permitted above the first level inside palace grounds. Where the plots were located was likely near where the exalted Farlol the 84th lived. Per the rough diagram the Hothor had provided, the throne room was ten levels below these open grazing areas, and the throne room itself was several levels above ground level.

“I’ve found an isolated roof where a scout can land, and is inaccessible to foot traffic, where any one of us could easily get down and back up. From there we could infiltrate to the grazing plots. I’m less certain we could do that while the emperor is in residence, with increased patrolling and unknown security precautions surrounding him. There could be pressure sensors in floors and walls, for example. He’d likely need to be away, with most of his security guards with him, and less attention paid to the empty quarters. I saw a lot of Thandol in fancy uniforms, moving all around that area right now, so he may be home.

“I simply don’t know if we can risk a direct landing with that unavoidable pop sound. That might force us to use a slow Normal Space drive approach, which could make us an incoming blip on a mass detector. Sneaking in might not be as practical as we hoped. Too bad. Maggi really wants to give the top brass, particularly the Emperor, the dribbley never-get-overs from parasites. That would affect his decision making when she fabricates conspiracy theories about coups, and stokes general paranoia about revolts within the empire. We want them too worried at home to engage in adventures outside the empire.”

Sarge asked, “Do the Thandol like fireworks shows, or other noisy ceremonies? They have that Marching Army of the Emperor, with that phony army that stomps their feet as they march. I see what looks exactly like a wide reviewing stand not too far from his quarters, looking out over a long wide avenue, with a parade ground on the other side, or at least an area where a big crowd can gather, to admire the high mucky mucks.

“I mean, why have a parade route and a flashy display army if it never marches to impress the ego driven nobles and Emperor? Find out from their servants if they conduct noisy scheduled events. Plan your infiltration then, if they do.”

“Good idea, Sarge.” Maggi offered him a rare complement. Rare, to keep him from figuring out she valued his input.

Mirikami shifted attention back to their plan to find where the Thandol were gathering their naval forces for attacking Tanner’s World. “Maggi will try to contact the Hothor with the Prada com set here on Wendal, to see what he learned. She can also ask about local celebrations. To protect our contact, she can only flag the device to show him we called when he checks. When he feels safe and is alone, she’ll receive a Comtap link.

“While she does that, I’ve decided where we’ll set up the atmospheric bulges. The five of us will string out along the equatorial orbit of the Crusher segments, just on the dayside of the terminator. The atmosphere of any world expands when the sun heats it after the night’s cooling caused it to contract. We’ll make certain the expansion today is greater than normal, so it might not be noticed, or at least not detected as quickly as it would be on the night side.

“I want your AI’s to time the projected gentle gradient gravity fields, and center them a hundred fifty miles above the planet, to start to draw atmosphere up above that hundred thirty-mile orbit. My own AI has calculated how far ahead in minutes and in distance that should be, to allow time for each atmosphere bulge to get at least to that altitude before the corner sections reach there in their orbit. We want them to spend five minutes passing through the slightly denser air of each of our five bulges. Kill your projector’s field five minutes before the first section passes below your focal point. We don’t want to raise the Crusher segment’s orbits, which they would notice, and the atmosphere will then be gently descending under Wendal’s gravity when they pass through. It needs to be a subtle effect.

“Noreen gets to go first, next Carson, Thad, Carol, and then my ship. We start just as the leading segment crosses the dayside terminator into the warming side. They take eighty-six minutes per orbit, so we have plenty of time. Noreen will start forming her bulge ten minutes ahead of them, measured from when they will cross the terminator line. We have forty-four minutes of dayside orbit time to work with.

“If we keep a string of five bulges forming in front of them, one after another, that should represent about twenty-five minutes of slightly increased drag. It’s more than the twenty minutes Noreen’s main AI calculated would be enough. I’m a bit uncertain if what we’re doing here will cause a steady enough drag effect as needed, using the minimum time Karl calculated. I want to reduce how much time they have to correct the slow orbital decay when it’s noticed. We likely can’t stick around two days to watch what happens, but our Hothor contact will eventually mention the Thandol misfortune if it happens. We’re not telling him or the Hothor government that we were involved, or were ever near Wendal. We want to be somewhere else causing mayhem that we do get credit for, when it happens here.”

The five Scouts moved into their positions, which didn’t need to be close to the planet for their projectors to influence such a broad target zone, so they moved out several thousand miles. An hour after they were in position, they caused a string of what seemed to be unusual natural events, which soon would have dire consequences for some of the equatorial industries of Wendal. They would only have a day and a half, at most, to start evacuations, once they determined the three likely impact zones for tens of thousands of tons of metal. They would add three new planetary scars, to match the one left a year earlier.

Two days prior to the disaster, a humble Hothor servant, in his own quarters, spoke to a mysterious alien using a small paw held device. He knew the device could instantly communicate with similar devices at home, and using a different address, it could reach someone he was told had been an alien visitor to his home world a year ago.

He had no idea who or where this creature was, and wasn’t even shown pictures of one of them from their previous visit to Canji Mot, which was not publicized. What he didn’t know, he couldn’t reveal.

However, he’d heard the rumor at home that it was from another galactic civilization, which was opposed to the Thandol Empire, and was allied with the Olt’kitapi. Therefore, he and his government wanted to help them. He told mystery contact of the kitchen rumors heard at Thandol noble dinners, about where a fleet was being gradually assembled, and kept secret from even their own three security forces. This Hothor had never heard of the place, but he provided the name to the mysterious contact, and some numbers he didn’t understand, which supposedly indicated where it was located. He was thanked, and told to hide his device again, and to check it once a day. There would be requests for information from the alien, or instructions from his own government. It was an exciting time for a subservient species, and for a humble servant. Gimtha Pradwal hated those he was compelled to serve.

****

Maggi, looking for fresh ideas, linked to the other nine Kobani. “Our Hothor contact, Pradwal, called the star system a term in the subservient Thandol grammar that my new data base translated into a meaning that matches either with outcast two or outlaw two, which may not be good matches, but we don’t navigate by star names anyway. There also was a general location using Thandol coordinates, of where the star is in the galaxy.

“My problem is that when I look at that location on our navigation computers, which all use a recent copy of maps that an automated Olt’kitapi system on our clanships update, I found no stars within six light years of that location. That spot does fall within a twenty light year wide void in the Sagittarius Arm, within a region where the Finth perform Imperial security. They number their security sectors, and the Finth sector is number two.”

To head off questions, for which she’d already found answers, she added, “It shouldn’t be a case of our maps being incomplete, because clanships have advanced quantum computers that use a method, which the Torki and Raspani just told me they can’t duplicate yet, to update the galaxy map on a regular basis. The Olt’kitapi used the vast amount of information gleaned from large-scale tachyon background flows, which is somehow related to mass distribution in our nearby Universe, which for us is the Milky Way. What I mean, is that I believe our map is accurate, and I got fresh confirmation of that from our experts on Haven.”

Having framed the problem, she posed her question, “How can we find this damn place, without a week of searching stars at the edges of that void?”

Maggi had been determined to solve this on her own, because it involved, she thought, her translation of the Thandol dialect used by the Hothor’s personal translation device, which involved her Mind Taps of the Thandol officers.

On his first hearing of the problem, which she’d kept private while the other nine screwed with the atmosphere of Wendal; her husband inadvertently pissed her off, even as he impressed her. It was the simple tap of his lower lip, and not a long drawn out tug indicating deep thought, that accomplished the irritation, and also provoking admiration.

“Why not accept the coordinates as correct? It would be a secret base if concealed from their three security forces, and who says it has to be around a star? Perhaps outlaw two or outcast two actually translates into something like rogue two, which is a relatively minor difference. That might mean there’s no star involved, if it’s a rogue planet.”

For a change, Sarge seemed to be defending his usual verbal antagonist. Perhaps it was payback for the earlier complement. “What difference would the translation make, Tet? Like Maggi said, we don't navigate by star names anyway, and a planet stuck out in a void? How would the Thandol move one there?”

He had an answer. “If the base is on a planet, slung out of some stellar system millions or even billions of years ago, those could be found anywhere. In Standard we call them rogue planets, but they are like an outcast. The more isolated the better, for a hidden base.”

“Then it’s kinda hard for the Thandol to find one then, isn’t it?”

Tet shrugged. “I think there are several thousand reported in PU astronomical records, from my younger days in the academy, becoming a Spacer. As new solar systems form, they evolve from chaotic disks, with collisions and near misses until the orbits settle down for the giant planets. Smaller planets can be completely thrown out by interactions with the giant planets. In fact…,” he paused a couple of seconds as he pulled a reference from a Comtap storage library.

“They’re called a rogue planet, nomad planet, free floating planet, and interstellar and starless planets. I think most of those we know about are a tiny fraction of the billions expected to reside in the galaxy. Most of those in Human Space seem to have been found via gravitational lensing, when the planet happened to pass in front of some distant star when a telescope was pointed that way.”

“Then how do we ever find this one? Wait for gravitational lensing?” It sounded like a challenge to do the impossible.

His attempted rescue of Maggi was properly rewarded, in her traditional manner. “We Jump there and look for a nearby mass, you twit. I hadn’t considered a lone planet as a possibility. Let’s get a move on. Rogue 2,” as she decided to name it, “is located in security sector two. I’ll bet there are Rogue 1 and Rogue 3 counterparts in the other two security zones.”

****

Delthab Trindal, of the Farlol nobility line, was the current High Commander and cousin to the Emperor. He was angrily addressing other assembled nobles, members of his High Command staff. “How did the Wendal Weather Bureau or the Imperial Stellar Observatory fail to predict the heating and expansion of the upper atmosphere this morning?

“If we had a stellar flare, why wasn’t there the usual radiation alert before the ejected coronal material reached us almost a cycle later? Those take a half cycle or more to travel this far. There should have been enough warning to send all of our orbital tugs aloft, to start moving unpowered structures out of danger. Why have we not experienced this effect in the past?”

There was a complete lack of response, because Trindal was speaking to nobles that had military training, but had no more knowledge concerning atmospheric dynamics than did Trindal.

“Get your assistants off all four foot pads, and lifting them quickly as they run, to find my answers. I’ll have to take what I know to the Emperor, and explain to him what is happening, well before the first streak of fire crosses the skies tomorrow morning, and he sees them for himself.”

The hours and alibis flowed steadily, without any firm answers. The experts said there had been no coronal mass ejection from the home star, and even if there had been, it might have damaged the ozone layer, and perhaps heated the highest layer, the thermosphere, but that was where low orbit objects routinely operated, and was essentially considered part of orbital space. What appeared to have happened was that part of the lower, and denser mesosphere, had briefly risen into the thermosphere as high as the Crusher remnants were orbiting.

With the three broad flat sides of those corner sections meeting the suddenly denser air, their orbits started to significantly decay. Once they lost ten miles of altitude, they were continuously traveling through slightly denser atmosphere every orbit. Even though called atmosphere, it was essentially a vacuum to any unprotected Thandol. Regardless, the panicked first reaction was to try to use the quickly available tugs to raise the orbits of all three objects. That rash decision divided the effort, so that none of the sections could be boosted high enough quickly enough. Their descents were merely slowed, and by the time more tugs were launched from the surface, and brought in from other planets and remote facilities in the system, none of the debris sections could be saved. It wasn’t certain if even one piece could have been saved from reentry from the very start.

Instead of answers being found, blame was being spread widely. Some tentacles pointed at a low-level governmental department, which was recovering the valuable scrap, using low orbits for speed and economy. It was claimed the low level provided fast and efficient movement of scrap from orbit to the ground. That governmental division in turn blamed Planetary Space Traffic Control, who had wanted the next higher orbits reserved for revenue producing satellites and space docks. The rationale was that the low orbit objects would be completely dismantled long before their orbits would encounter significant drag.

The Emperor was still furious that his personal ship, the Emperor’s Pride, was destroyed in the first place. Now these pieces, associated with his title and Imperial pride, were about to smash to the ground, reminding citizens of why they were called Crushers in the first place. They were expected to generate considerable destruction, and cause an unpredictable death toll, because evacuations were proceeding in a hectic and disorderly fashion, with more tentacles directing blame between various Imperial departments.

The combination of effects added to his previous sense of humiliation, and reminded his detractors that his personal ship was destroyed by a new enemy, one that he had created, practically over his head at the Empire’s heart. It made him suspicious of how this could happen again. It seemed like a convenient way to increase damage to his previous favorability with his alliance of imperial supporters. Typical coups seldom involved serious damage to the capitol world, or touched the population that kept the wheels turning, few of which would be of the Emperor’s herd. Only the most violent coups, in the early history of the empire had been like that.

Nevertheless, such an unlikely disaster smacked of a wide conspiracy to the Emperor. Why hadn’t his family nobles appointed to the High Command prevented this, or at least discover how it had happened? They hadn’t even offered a scapegoat to present to the public, as a sacrificial recipient of the blame. He needed a distraction from this fiasco to present to his supporters. Just not the one he received.

You tended not to notice a scratch on your tentacle, when your gonads got crushed.

****

“Holy crap!” Thad was awed. “We could make a bigger dent in their navy if we’d brought more Scouts, or just carried more reloads. These will be sitting ducks.”

He was referring to the collect of two orbiting Crushers, and a total of nearly six thousand Smashers, Stranglers, and a smaller class of pyramid design ships, parked on airless plains of the rogue planet. All of the Thandol large ship designs went beyond what was needed to simply accommodate the larger bodies of their crews. It apparently scaled with their large egos and self-esteem.

One ship class was underrepresented, with only five examples of Stompers, which could carry ceremonial ground troops. They were often used to put the conquerors on display, for a beaten species to see exactly to whom they owed subservience.

The coordinates that Pradwal had relayed, were obtained from other servant’s accumulated information, had been too approximate for exact navigation. They were likely rounded off versions the nobles used for conversational brevity, overheard from casual conversations. This put the Scouts only within a few billion miles of a Mars scale rocky world, detected by it being the only nearby mass.

Its former atmosphere, apparently thin to begin with, was now frozen out as mounds of carbon dioxide deposits at what would have once been the original poles. There was a layer of water ice under the CO2, which appeared to be eroding away along the sides. The ancient poles were evidence now of how long this planet had been sunless. The axial drift of its rotation had long ago shifted the two masses of the polar icecaps to what was now the world’s equator. The frozen ball must have been drifting for billions of years, without the warmth of a star to sublimate or melt and redeposit the once polar deposits at the new axial poles. The water ice also stayed where it was, under the protective layer of CO2, but had found users for its treasure, which accounted for the eroded appearance of the sides of the ancient ice caps. It was being mined as a useful resource.

The Thandol had constructed four huge domes, two close to and on either equatorial side of the two ice bulges. Aside from the Thandol admiration of the number four, the dome placement was evidence of either their longevity here, or anticipated longevity. As they used the water ice, and perhaps some of the CO2, they didn’t want to disturb the dynamic balance of the planet’s rotation, so they kept the mass distribution along the current equatorial region, as they shifted material away from the two icecap bulges. Even so, it would take a very long time to redistribute enough mass to cause the present axis of rotation to shift again, perhaps causing crustal instability and quakes as that happened.

The domes were colored differently, one being white, another a golden color, one yellow, and one was tan. These were frequent colors seen on buildings on Wendal, with the golden shade found on the outside of many structures in the Emperor’s compound. White appeared where there seemed to be a bit less opulent luxury, yellow less still, and tan evidently was reserved for nobility of the lowest status, but still higher than the browns, grays, greens and deep blues of the commoner’s residences.

The five small Scouts were about to put the long-term planning of the Thandol to the test. They were unlikely to alter the axis of rotation, but the base wasn’t going to be nearly as habitable or secret when they were finished.

“Sarge,” Maggi prodded. “Your professed long-range accuracy may not be of much use here.”

“Why’s that? I see a lot of targets, starting with two large ass Crushers we can’t miss at our present range.”

“No contest, hitting those fat sitting ducks. But I was thinking of our crater target practice. Notice how relatively smooth this ball is? It was tossed out of its home system before many leftover rocks had time to smack into it, or the atmosphere froze out and covered them. Almost no craters to use as a bullseye.”

She suggested an alternative test of accuracy. “I’d think some of the most widespread damage we might cause could be blasting gravrods down into the icecaps at an angle, to send shock waves out the opposite side under those domes. Remember what happened on our large target asteroid? On the side opposite from my hit? I wonder if we can do more damage to the domes from underneath, if we slam shots in from the other side of the planet and lift and rupture them from below. We’d have to estimate the right angle for a shot like that.”

Dillon poured cold water on the idea, using logic. “Not possible. This isn’t an asteroid, it’s the size of Mars, a bit larger actually, at a diameter of four-thousand six hundred miles, per my AI’s measurement. That asteroid you shot at was a low density accumulated rubble pile, with a diameter of just under six hundred miles, which may have once had a small dense core. You can’t get the same force transmitted all the way through this planetary mass, with its larger dense core, and higher gravity holding its surface down.”

“Say’s the biologist, with a sideline in genetics,” she retorted, pointing out his lack of planetary expertize.

“From the biologist, with a sideline in diplomacy and languages,” was his rebuttal.

Mirikami, confined in a small ship with his lovely, petite, highly volatile wife, made a tactical, practical, and safe decision. “The domes are not our primary targets anyway. Dead Thandol in domes won’t keep these ships from attacking Tanner’s if they’re all still here and intact when we leave.

“I don't mean we won’t hit the domes at all,” he added, “but the Crushers are the only ships in orbit here, being too massive to land on any planet, and they’re easily hit out here on their own. The Thandol captains landed their heavier Smashers and Stranglers on the smooth plains closest to the domes. The other smaller craft, with lower ranking captains, landed at the outskirts around the domes.”

His next comments initially suggested to his people that he’d drifted slightly off topic.

“I did a search of the old Olt’kitapi data about the Empire, and there once were similar sized warships to those smaller ones we see here, which the Thandol called Guardians. These are closer in size to a PU navy light cruiser, but given the Thandol love of big things that fly, these may function as the PU destroyers did, before the Krall micro-Jump methods made screening a space fleet with them impossible. They might be used to form a screen for the larger fleet elements, the same way the Ragnar tried to use their Shredders. If so, then Guardian is a reasonable name for them until we learn differently, but we know they won’t be able to defend a Thandol fleet from us any better than Shredders worked for the Ragnar. We don’t stand-off and fight from a distance, so I don’t think these Guardians are vital targets for us. We don’t have enough gravrods for ammunition anyway, so focus on the larger craft.”

Then he returned to their primary goal. To change the Thandol’s assault plan, initiated by the Emperor’s petulance, to attack Tanner’s World in the belief that it was a Federation planet. The Thandol were apparently unaware of the recent Ragnar experience there, which might only have extended their planning period anyway, and would certainly increase the forces the Emperor would commit to their own attack.

“We had no idea what we’d find here, and in hindsight, we didn’t bring enough Scouts, or magazines of gravrods, to target every single ship spread around the four domes, sitting completely undefended out on those smooth flat ice plains. In fact, we don’t yet have enough Scouts built, nor gravity guns for them, to do a thorough job here. We need to do as much damage as we can with the gravrods we have, but we have to use one other tool we brought with us, and do more than tickle a planet’s atmosphere.”

Thad expressed his doubts. “What can we tackle with our gravity projectors here? Moving the planet is impossible, and pointless since it’s drifting in space already. Tilting its axis would be equally slow, even if we knew how, and it’s questionable if that would disturb them very much. Their ships would be in space long before earthquakes happened.”

Mirikami laughed. “Thad, you’re thinking on a way bigger scale than I am, and as you said, it might ruin the base for long-term occupation, but it won’t do what we need done right now. I’m thinking of using our projectors on objects more convenient in mass and size.”

Sarge misunderstood, “Tet, can we even pick up and damage ships individually with our focused gravity fields? Even if we can, I don’t see how just five of us can to that fast enough to so many. There would be about a thousand ships for each of us, and they could put crews aboard many of them to activate drives and escape before we could reach them, or they may have watch standers left on them. It would take us hours, if not an entire day.”

Mirikami said, “Nope. Not them. We just used Crusher pieces, indirectly maneuvered via our projectors, to crash them into Wendal. Here we have two intact ships of that same class.”

“They won’t sit still while we try to do that.”

“They will if we put a gravrod or two into their centers, to destroy their Bridge, damage their Jump and Normal Space drives, and rupture one or more of their fusion generators. Then we can use them as two huge gravity driven hammers, to smash them into the two main collections of large combat ships.

“I noticed that largest collections of Smashers and Stranglers are clustered around just two of the domes, with all of the Guardians and a scattering of other Smashers and Stranglers at the other two domes. I suspect the highest rank Thandol, following their nobility caste system, have gathered based on family connections. The most influential officers would be in the two domes where the greater number of Smashers are gathered. We should try to hit those ships with mile wide, high velocity Crushers, if we can figure out how to aim them. Aiming wasn’t an issue at Wendal.

“To keep the captains and crews trapped for a time away from their ships, we can simply fire at the domes a couple of times. If their officers and crews are scrambling to reach shelter under ruptured domes, they won’t have much opportunity to rush out to their ships. At Meglor, they left only skeleton crews on docked ships, and here, at this super-secret base, they may have done the same, or even left their ships empty.”

Carol voiced a personal concern, not wanting to offend Mirikami. “This will kill a lot of Thandol families in the domes, won’t it?”

He answered solemnly. “I assume it will kill Thandol in the domes, Carol, and in the warships. Although, I doubt they have families here, and I suspect it is primarily the military crews of those ships that are inside the domes. This isn’t a lush living world, a place where you would bring a family. It’s a secret base on a barren large rock, where they live under a dome when not conducting a military exercise. I hope none of us feels indifferent to their deaths, and we certainly should not be happy to kill them.

“Nor should we be indifferent to the probable loss of civilian Thandol lives, including their nonpolitical females on Wendal, because of the delayed disaster we initiated there. If our tactic worked to bring down the Crusher pieces, there will also be deaths suffered by some of the species they employ as their servants, even in the industrial sections at the equator on Wendal. There are nobles running those enterprises, and they probably want cheap hired alien help, to perform household duties. They weren’t our targets, but they may still be killed.

“I think we all should bear in mind a distinction between us and the Thandol. The Empire doesn’t regret collateral deaths, they actively seek to kill innocents to use as examples to others, whereas we try to avoid them. It doesn’t bring back those we inadvertently kill, but we regret their loss, and offer apologies and assistance, as we did to the Prada, Raspani, and Torki.”

Thad, knowing it couldn’t clear their consciences if they killed noncombatants, made an observation concerning Rogue 2. “This fleet, its crews and support personnel, were gathered here, preparing to kill millions of people on Tanner’s world. Based on the several hundred Stranglers they have parked here, many of those civilians were not going to die quickly, or painlessly.

“They aren’t even planning to take possession of that world, to preserve the population and industry for becoming a productive, if unwilling member of the Empire. They intend to conduct a purely punitive attack, because their petulant Emperor didn’t like it that we blew up his personal warship, despite his ordering surprise attacks that killed our civilian colonists. Their motivation is to force us to become their indentured servants, or die. Our motive is to stay alive and free, even if we have to do ugly and unpleasant things.”

“I know,” Carol answered, in a plaintive tone. “I’m glad I’m not the only one that wishes we didn’t have to do this. Against the Krall, it felt different. The Empire isn’t composed of animal-like barbarians. The Thandol have an advanced civilization, they build things, and they have citizens that are not constantly involved with war and killing. At least they don’t eat or exterminate every species they meet. If we defeat them, perhaps they can change.”

Maggi pointed out parallels from human history. “We’ve had cruel conquerors and oppressors of our own, but with enough time, a lot of time in cases of some of our ancient and ruthless empires, they changed as they assimilated those they ruled, or were forced to change by outside pressure. The Thandol have already had a great deal of time to assimilate and change, yet they did not. Now they require force from the outside.”

Alyson had her own concerns. “I wonder if this going to be as easy as it was at Wendal, or turn ugly like it did at Meglor. All we have are five small Scouts, with one fancy gravity gun apiece.”

“And total surprise,” Mirikami added, and said, “attacked by ships that have a control of gravity in a way they’ve never encountered. They aren’t prepared to defend against any sort of attack here, where they were confident they couldn’t be found.

“This is a unique opportunity. After this, they’ll stop leaving warships unattended, with lax security even at secret bases. If they intend to continue fighting us, they’ll have to adjust to the fact that we don’t behave like the subservient species they’ve walked over in the past. We’re bringing the fight to them, again, at another place where they have let their guard down.” Then he gave his orders to begin the attack.

“Sarge, if Thad will yield helm control of your Scout, you get to demonstrate your gunnery skill again. Carson, you only had a small asteroid as a practice target. You and Sarge get to put one gravrod into the center of one face of a Crusher. You two decide who shoots which ship. Maneuver to aim at the center of one of their flat planes from a quarter million miles out, to build high velocity, and you should launch simultaneously. The strikes should disable primary power and kill the Bridge crews at their centers. Use a second shot if required.”

He continued assignments. “Ethan, you and Jorl will project a strong gravity field below Sarge’s target once it’s disabled, and let your AI help you pull the derelict out of orbit. I want it directed towards the large collection of Smashers, parked around three sides of the gold dome. Take gravity gun shots at ships closest to any dome you can see as you steer the Crusher down.

“Dillon, you and Noreen grab Carson’s target, and maneuver it down towards the ships parked near the white dome, and take shots as you can. The ships nearest the domes are those they may be able to reach first and try to liftoff.

“Without atmosphere, there won’t be any complex friction to consider. The Crushers will come in at shallow angles, and the debris will sweep across the plains along their orbital direction. Try to position them so the debris paths will pass through the densest collection of ships you each can manage to hit. Even at an optimistic estimate, I think there are too many ships, spread too widely, for us to get more than a third of those parked near the gold and white domes.

“Thad and Alyson, after your gunner fires at the Crushers, be prepared with your projectors to aid with pulling them down out of orbit. With two fields per Crusher, you should be able to control its descent rate and direction. They have a huge mass and are moving fast, so slowing them and altering their trajectory may prove tricky, even with AI guidance.

“I’d like it if you can bring them down within a single orbit, before skeleton crews in any of the parked craft can grasp what is happening and lift off. We can’t conceal how we did this, as we tried to do at Wendal with the atmosphere. I hope it’s simply too confusing and improbable for them to put together that we have Olt’kitapi style gravity control. They may think the explosions on the Crushers knocked them out of orbit. Hard to guess what they’ll think, but they aren’t stupid.”

He continued designating targets, “Carol, you and Sergey will take pot shots at any of the larger parked ships you wish, particularly the Stranglers, around the yellow and tan domes. Maggi and I will first hit all four domes at least twice, to start venting their atmospheres. They’re rigid structures, so they won’t collapse. Our gravrods will likely vaporize on contact, and make relatively small entry holes. When the spatter of the high velocity material streaks through the internal air it will be superheated, and it should punch through some of the internal structures. This is mainly to distract them, and to trigger vacuum seals on the internal buildings and doors, in order to trap ship crews inside them until we’re gone. I can’t imagine any cautious species that would live in a pressurized dome, and then wouldn’t design buildings with automatic responses against exposure to vacuum. Humans wouldn’t do that, and our allies tell me we aren’t cautious.” He smiled at that.

After Carol’s earlier question, he’d decided it would be easier for her if she and Sergey were asked to focus only on military ships as targets. Mirikami didn’t intend any of them to reveal their stealthed location or their actual numbers. Which meant they would not be firing any of the four anti-ship missiles each Scout carried, or to use their heavy lasers. This meant they were limited to the relatively slow firing, but undetectable and devastating gravity guns. Each Scout had departed Haven with ten magazines, holding ten gravrods each, of the production version of the original test weapons.

That meant they only had five hundred rounds total, to destroy or cripple as many as possible of what the AI’s had now verified as five thousand eight hundred and forty-three combat ships, and several hundred support ships. They wanted to concentrate their shots on the larger warships, and to ignore the Guardians, support ships, and the Stompers. In order to do the greatest damage, it would require crashing the two massive Crushers on the plains where many of the parked ships were located, provided they could be brought down close enough to the selected domes.

Sarge and Carson maneuvered into position, and as agreed, waited for five minutes while their two targets moved to positions where the AI’s calculated was the best compromise location for their dual tasks. From there, it was theoretically possible each Crusher could be pulled down to hit their surface targets within a single orbit.

“Ready…, fire.” Mirikami called it for them.

****

Captain Fendrel, a third cousin of Farlol the 84th, was pleased with his orders to take Farlol Ascendant, to Rogue 2, to have his Crusher participate in the first major Thandol action against a well populated planet, which they believed was a Federation world.

When Captain Shanthot, of Detab’s Victory, a second cousin, was understandably the first Crusher captain named to accompany that fleet, he was granted the title of Fleet Commander, to lead the Emperor’s Fleet of Vengeance.

Fendrel had been afraid the political maneuverings of the other three third cousins, commanding the Empire’s Stampede, Emperor’s Foot, and Emperor’s Trunk, would secure the second most prestigious position. He had maneuvered and called in favors of his own of course, but he wasn’t all that well connected to anyone considered very influential in the Emperor’s Court.

He comforted himself that it was his record of accomplishments, suppressing or punishing recalcitrant subservient species worlds, which had earned him what was considered a choice assignment. His ego might have taken a hit had he known that it was actually just the name of his ship, Farlol Ascendant, which sealed the deal for him over his equally qualified competitors. The Emperor simply liked his own name. Fendrel would soon wish his ship had been named the Emperor’s Fat Butt.

As a recent arrival, his shuttle had just departed his ship for the gold dome, to join the revelry and debauchery the other fleet nobles had been engaged in for many cycles, as the fleet elements secretly and gradually gathered at Rogue 2. Crushers were such visible representatives of the Empire’s power, that they were sent here as the last elements.

Two of those other three Crushers would be extremely busy, traveling from world to world all around the Empire, to maintain the impression they were all involved in projecting the Empire’s might. The three security forces would notice if Crusher visits dropped significantly, suggesting the Thandol were gathering an unannounced naval force. The Ragnar already knew that, of course, if not where it was gathering, but they wouldn’t share this purloined information with anyone.

The third Crusher, the Emperor’s Trunk, was tasked with the dull job of playing taxi for the Emperor, for his relatively rare off-planet excursions, those visits reduced after the Federation had become so aggressive and active in Empire space.

Like every Crusher, it could project tachyon wake monitoring Traps fields, which were sensitive enough to detect wakes in the sea of tachyons when those were disturbed by massive enough objects traveling in a Jump Hole. At least they could detect them at the higher energy levels of Tachyon Space, called T-squared and T-cubed by humans, and described as Level 2, or Level 3, by the Thandol. The Emperor’s Trunk hadn’t detected five unexpected arrivals at Wendal, which deflected suspicion of Federation involvement there. However, it didn’t mean the developing disaster wasn’t broadcast to Thandol worlds and bases throughout the Empire.

Thandol instant long-range communications required the tachyon modulating transmitters and receivers to be in Tachyon Space to function. At every Thandol planet or base, there were two or more equipped ships in a Jump Hole at all times. The broadcast of the events at Wendal couldn’t be received by either Crusher at Rogue 2, sitting in parking orbits. Regardless, the day’s designated two communication ships received the news, and one of them was chosen, and promptly rotated into Normal Space to broadcast the alarming news to the base.

Captain Fendrel immediately ordered his shuttle pilot to return to the ship, which still held his full crew complement, awaiting permission of the Fleet Commander to go ashore. It wasn’t because of any concern of his about a possible attack on the secret base; it was because Fendrel understood Imperial politics and public relations.

It was extremely likely that the Emperor would advance the date of their attack on the Federation, so positive sounding news of that action could soon replace the lingering negative impressions of the disaster happening on Wendal.

This fleet had only been waiting for the two Crushers to arrive, to develop the plans to rehearse the series of complex actions involved in a massive naval bombardment of an entire planet. The dry fire attacks would be simulated here at Rogue 2, using recorded observations of the target planet made by the monitor ship that had discovered the human world. Using that record, as a basis for the live maneuvers, they would start their practice in a few cycles by using computer simulation of the locations of the observed cities.

Their three security forces did assaults like this more often than did the Imperial navy itself. Therefore, to avoid looking inept they would practice here in isolation, performing live what normally were entirely computer experiences, simulated for their Captains and Commanders. Crusher crews, in particular, spent a great deal of time conducting ceremonial appearances, intimidating planets that seldom opposed them, resulting in situations where they conducted rapid dry fire practice more often before a visitation.

The first raids on Federation colonies, by the Emperor's Trumpet, had been preceded by a quarter orbit for practice drills for that Crusher, to hone the targeting skills for the Decoherence launcher crews. Anticipating the Emperor’s response, Fendrel wanted to be ready to start well before that pampered second cousin left his ongoing welcoming party in the gold dome.

Turning back just short of landing might have saved him and his fellow officers, but only provided them with an excellent view of a military disaster in progress, not to mention an end to their prestigious service on rapidly declining Crusher numbers. That elite service soon would consist of only three ships, of the eight that had projected the Empire’s might for so long.

Shockingly, they suddenly saw an eye searing flash erupt from one side of their ship, a slender jet of incandescent gas that speared out from the center of that vast equilateral triangle of hull surface, which was roughly a mile long per side. The impression was that something internally had exploded, and had emerged at that small pinpoint.

It would soon be recognized as the point of entry for some sort of small projectile, traveling at an incomprehensible velocity. A narrow, but widening incandescent cone of plasma and molten material blasted through the center of the ship, but a small part of the blast emerged at the entry point in a blowback, comprised of vaporized decking, bulkheads, equipment, and organic traces of crew. It was a limited blowback, because most of the gaseous and molten material acquired momentum from the projectile, which was eventually estimated to have been moving at nearly two thousand miles per second.

The cone of destruction reached and penetrated the Bridge armor, vaporizing the officers that were still involved with parking orbit stand-down procedures.

Although the jet of material didn’t penetrate any of the containment vessels of the three fusion generators inside the Bridge, it rendered them inoperable junk. Some remnants of the destruction and molten material found their way beyond the Bridge, and passed through bulkheads to exit the hull on the opposite side, where two different triangular planes of the hull met at another mile-long line.

A Nova bomb intersect at the center would have been more destructive, fragmenting the vessel, but for a small Scout, you would be hard pressed to produce more of a bang for the Fed credit spent. And it left the disabled ship to be used as a one-piece gravity guided bludgeon. A task that began even as explosions erupted at the four domes, and as a number of ships parked on the airless plains next to them, appeared to vomit their interiors across the airless plains.

Those in Fendrel’s shuttle made futile calls to Farlol Ascendant’s various Bridge stations, and then listened helplessly as calls for assistance came from hundreds of individuals located in the four ruptured domes, and from dozens of the surviving skeleton crews aboard the ships being hit, one after another.

“Sire.” Fendrel’s Weapons Officer called to him. “Our ship is descending. It must be attempting to land. Someone in the Alternate Combat Center has control.”

Fendrel immediately looked back to his ship, and it was already lower than the shuttle, which had reversed and had been climbing towards the Crusher. “If so, it would have to be Lieutenant Jorlty, but I can’t believe he regained control this quickly. Rerouting power would take more time than this, and the damage to the core must have severely damaged the Normal Space drive. Besides, even without damage, our ship can’t take the stress of its own weight on any face of the hull. No one can land a Crusher.”

Nevertheless, it continued to descend, and it fell behind them as it slowed and they did not. Fendrel tried to contact the Bridge crew of Detab’s Victory, with as much success as he’d had with his own ship. No reply.

When his shuttle pilot said “Look,” and used a tentacle to point through their windscreen towards the limb of the planet, Fendrel saw the other Crusher had appeared around its edge. It was lower than he would have expected. That meant it was also descending. A sparkling cloud of faint light trailed behind the other ship, reflected from a myriad of small objects and venting atmosphere. The tumbling particles were picking up the band of light from the Milky Way’s glowing core. That evidence revealed why the other ship wasn’t responding either. It was from a spray of its lifeblood, the debris from the impact it had suffered, with the pieces following along its original orbit. That Crusher was also inexplicably descending.

One of his crew, a helmsman, noted that the rates of descents of both Crushers indicated the ships were under power. However, their lack of response to radio calls, and absence of external ship lights when in a parking orbit at a Thandol base, implied dead ships.

Then, there was a sudden spray of larger objects from their ship, and despite the distance, it was happening at the other Crusher. It was like pollen from flowers that had spent their bloom, and were spreading their hope for life. The life pods were carrying away those aboard that could escape. The automatic emergency transmitters formed a network, that grew as each pod linked to the others.

Data started arriving, from escape pods of both Crushers, informing potential rescuers how many were in each pod, their life signs, injuries, and specifics of food and water, and thruster fuel. These pods did not have tachyon traps and thus used reaction mass thrusters. They would typically congregate and attempt to dock, as they shared resources and power. They did not have the capability to land on a planet, even one without an atmosphere.

There were no more explosions at the domes, but ships on the plains continued to spew atmosphere and glowing ejecta as they were apparently struck by some sort of unseen weapon. A weapon that displayed characteristics of ultra-high velocity inertial impacts. Even plasma bolts, which possessed some inertia and were visible even in airless vacuum, looked like a cyanic blue-white streak as they traveled at a large percentage of the velocity of light. Their star hot bolts couldn’t blast completely through a Smasher or a Strangler, as was apparently happening to the ships hit on the surface. That obviously was the same sort of weapon that hit both Crushers.

Dozens of Smashers were starting to lift, and those would surely be doing so with low ranking watch standers in command, with too few crew to staff every position, either on the Bridge, in the Engineering Division, or on Weapons. There was little alternative, because at least a hundred ships had been hit, and sitting motionless on the plains suggested eventual death. The enemy had not revealed themselves visually, which was what marked them as Federation craft as certainly as if they had broadcast that fact. The relative low rate of fire suggested there were not many of the enemy, but there didn’t have to be, not if the targets were motionless and unable to fire back.

There were no obvious targets to fire on, but Fendrel had two officers at the shuttle’s medium power lasers, and one was heating the plasma chamber for the small plasma cannon. In the meantime, as the only high ranking officer able to see what was happening, and was not trapped in a dome venting atmosphere or sealed inside a building.

He ordered the ships lifting to activate all sensors, activate mass detectors, and for those equipped, to launch Decoherence bombs at any unseen mass concentrations. The growing fleet at Rogue 2 had been equipped with, and were practicing using improved mass detectors. After Meglor, they had analyzed the gravity recordings of the positions where enemy ships had fired missiles, lasers, and plasma cannons. They had been stealthed, but no more invisible than were their own craft, which were faintly detectable to their electromagnetic sensors.

There had been suggestions that the Federation might have a more advanced stealth system, one that the Thandol had not yet encountered, but that a rumor claimed the Ragnar knew about and had not shared that intelligence. So, out of typical Thandol caution, the mass detectors received an upgrade. Software was installed that could identify a Federation’s clanship by where it’s massive Jump Engines were with respect to the heavy casings for its fusion bottles, and from the large bell shaped thruster nozzle at one end. A pattern of these faint mass distributions, matching those of a clanship, could be used to provide coordinates to the launchers. They could then accurately Jump the Decoherence warheads into internal voids, where the thumb sized warheads could avoid a minor intersect, and thus survive to activate their circuits and gut the enemy craft and their crews.

Fendrel was the first to notice the pattern of destruction down on the surface. Not only had there been no further shots aimed at the domes, but the ships being targeted fell into distinct groups, based on their types.

The first two ships struck were the Crushers, of course, and he believed the eight hits on the domes were purely done for the purpose of preventing the captains and crews in them from donning their bulky pressure suits and streaming out to their ships. They were forced to take shelter in the automatically sealed and pressurized buildings, equipped with airlocks, as the domes lost their air. The most frequent ship targets were the Stranglers, and most of those hit were parked at the periphery of the plains around the domes.

The Smashers, those also parked at the edges were hit hard, and after the Stranglers on the edges had been destroyed, more of the Smashers were being hit.

What was ignored, unless damaged by debris that might blast out of the opposite side of a struck ship, were the Guardians. None of the few Stompers had been hit, nor the support and supply ships either. It was only the most effective combat ships that the Federation was killing. But Fendrel wasn’t the only one to note a pattern, as the first of the Smashers that escaped the carnage reached orbit, along with a smattering of fifteen Guardians, and three Stranglers.

The shuttle pilot asked what seemed an odd question, at least on first hearing by Fendrel. He asked him to explain, since he saw destruction of hundreds of fleet elements around all four domes.

“Sire, at the gold and white domes, only the ships farthest from the domes have been hit. At the yellow and tan domes, most of the Smashers and Stranglers being destroyed are clustered close together, closer to the domes. The Guardians at the edges are completely safe. Why are they sparing the largest ships closest to the gold and white domes?”

A fear gripped Fendrel as he saw the pattern of untouched ships. He’d noted that his own crippled Crusher had vanished around the limb of the planet, as the shuttle used its Normal Space drive to hold its position, because he had summoned many of the lifting Smashers and Guardians to form around him, with some others moving around to scan for gravitational targets. If he located the hidden enemy fleet, he would order micro Jumps to close with them, with the ships firing Decoherence bombs at any mass detections.

“Look at Detab’s Victory,” he directed his officers. “He’s deorbiting, even without atmospheric drag, or a Normal Space drive. Everyone aboard him that could get out, has done so. We can’t let him crash where the enemy wants. I think they are guiding him to crash on the domes, or the parked ships. We need to fire on him to try to change his course.” Thandol ships all had an assumed male gender, and Fendrel saw this guy needed to be deflected.

“Sire?” His weapons officer implored. “Shuttle weapons can’t do that.”

“No, not us. I mean the ships we have in orbit have to fire on him. It isn’t simply crashing, it’s being guided.”

He ignored the confused questions and protests of his own officers. There was too little time. He used his memcache, selecting Fleet Command mode, an authority which by right had been granted to the captain of Detab’s Victory, the Emperor’s second cousin. But he wasn’t answering calls, and even if he was alive, he was trapped on the planet and didn’t know what Fendrel now was certain was happening.

He addressed every Thandol at Rogue 2 that was able to receive the radio link. “Attention. This Captain Fendrel, I am assuming emergency command of the Emperor’s Fleet of Vengeance.” That was the designation the fleet would have when it was ready to depart.

“I am certain we have been attacked by a stealthed Federation fleet, using new high inertia projectile weapons, which rip through our ships with a single shot, and which disabled both Crushers. They have somehow caused the Crushers to start falling out of orbit. I can no longer see Farlol Ascendant, but both of them have become weapons in the trunks of our enemy.” The metaphor didn’t fit, but Thandol had no hands.

“I believe the Crushers will be used to smash into the gold and white domes, or into the clusters of ships parked near them. It’s too late for us to reach my ship, Farlol Ascendant, but we may be able to divert Detab’s Victory enough to save the dome, and our ships parked there. We need to combine our fire, using our missiles on one side, to try to force it to shift aside before it hits where it is being directed.”

There was an uproar from even low ranking officers on the ships that had joined his puny shuttle above Rogue 2, objecting to firing on one of the greatest symbols of the Empire’s might, only on the word of one officer in a small craft. They didn’t actually know who was linked to them.

Despite outranking them, they were in larger warships and felt a Thandol male’s reluctance to follow another male they were not certain had authority over them. None of them were the assigned captains, but there was no time for Fendrel to shift his command to a more impressive vessel.

He was forced to send a mute code to their memcaches, using the authorization he had granted himself. It wouldn’t hold long, not if over half of the other officers elected to send a response code to remove him as the self-declared Fleet Admiral. He had to convince them to listen, before the small window of opportunity closed.

He rushed to repeat his pilot’s observation, as if it had been his own, and described quickly how the Crushers had been disabled, and were now falling out of orbit, despite their drives being offline. He explained that he was confident the mass of the huge ships was to be used as artificial asteroids, to destroy more parked ships and the two domes.

His attention was briefly divided, because he saw a half dozen more ships, of the thousands that were still intact, ripped into on the plains near the tan dome, the one he could presently see the best.

A voice suddenly intruded on his general link, despite the mute command, and he discovered was now in a private link with only one individual. “Captain Fendrel.” He knew that arrogant style of trumpeting, and the snobbish inflection of his high notes. It was Captain Shanthot, who was senior to him in rank, and nobility, and the rightful Fleet Commander. “You say you want to destroy my ship?”

“No, Sire. I want to deflect him before he crashes and destroys the gold dome, where you are, and the ships parked near there. The enemy has killed his power, and are somehow guiding him down to impact with the planet, using it as a massive weapon against us. He is doomed, no matter what we do.”

“What of your ship?” he asked coldly.

“He’s on the other side of Rogue 2, and will strike the white dome, I believe. We are not in position to affect his path.”

“I heard your explanation. Have life pods cleared him?”

“Yes, Sire. As many pods as apparently were able, almost two of three of your crew survived the strike. Your ship and mine were both badly damaged, the fusion generators went offline, and the Bridge crews are dead.”

“I will miss him. You have command of the fleet until I can join you in orbit, if I live. Good fortune to you, and to us. Act quickly.”

The fleet listeners must have wondered at his brief pause, and he wanted no more questions. He resumed the fleet wide link. “Captain Shanthot just spoke to me. He’s in the gold dome, and has ordered us to act quickly to deflect his ship from the path selected by our enemy.”

His authority now bolstered, he gave the most painful orders he’d ever issued. “All ships, shift north of the equator, towards the north end axis, and launch missiles and plasma bolts into the north facing hull plane of Detab’s Victory, to force it to drift south of the equator.” The planet had no magnetic field, so one axis end had arbitrarily been determined to be planetary north for Rogue 2.

“The enemy is somehow guiding both Crushers towards impacts on the gold and white domes, or the warships parked there. We can’t reach my own ship in time, but we have an opportunity here. Fire as soon as you are able, there is little time remaining.” The huge ship was less than a quarter of an orbit from impact, and was descending faster.

How are they doing this? he asked himself. He had an inspiration.

“I want mass density reports for Detab’s Victory. Something is pushing or pulling it lower.”

He had actually been thinking of some sort of giant stealthed tug, but one large enough for this task seemed outlandish to build, and then he had a flash of insight. There had not been a single report of a detection of the only known class of Federation warship, the captured and converted Krall clanships, and not a single missile or energy beam had yet been fired at a suspected enemy target. Where could they be?

The best trained officers from the ships aloft were on the surface, but the highly automated weapons systems and sensors on the Smashers could be controlled by voice commands to each ship’s AI, by even half-trained enlisted crew members. If those Federation ships were present, they were either far away, or perhaps so close to the Crushers that their mass distribution profiles merged with the huge mass next to them. He noted that, despite being unpowered and having no gravity control or active drive systems, the big ships had not started to roll or tumble as they were moved out of what should have been stable orbits.

The replies, from watch standers on several Smashers at once, surprised him. One forceful sounding lieutenant, claiming he was the officer assigned to his ship’s sensor division, stood out to Fendrel. He looked at the shuttle communications console and identified that respondent’s ship tag. “Emperor’s Smasher 2-1427, repeat your report.” This ship was normally stationed in the second security zone, and one of thousands of such in this Finth patrolled region.

“Sire,” came the nervous trumpeting. “There are large and indistinct masses registered, two of them actually, both below and on either side of him.” The him being the Crusher, of course.

The young sounding officer was clearly not of a noble educated class, and had the grammar and accent of some small Thandol colony from the central Empire region, yet he sounded competent.

Fendrel reconsidered. Perhaps there were stealthed tugs, with two of them working together to crash this ship on target. Except, they were below the Crusher. Cables to pull such a massive object down so strongly would surely snap, and how and where could they be attached? There were no attachment points for such a purpose. The only practical method he could envision, to do what was happening, would be to push the Crusher somehow, from above. It was a wrong assumption, but two powerful gravity fields, being remotely projected below each Crusher, naturally wouldn’t be his first or second guess.

There was no time to waste. “All ships fire on the north facing hull immediately to deflect its course. Lieutenant, on 2-1427, I want you to fire your weapons at the center of both of the masses below the crusher, and report the results to me immediately.”

The first task was to divert the course of this Crusher, if possible. The other was to see if the detected mass centers were actual enemy ships. Stealth wouldn’t protect them from energy beams and missiles. If an enemy were revealed, he could focus retaliation on them, and without their interference, the Crusher might enter a perilously low orbit, instead of continuing its descent.

Perhaps a quarter of the hundred thirteen Smashers, and at least half of the roughly two hundred Guardians in orbit, forgot his orders to fire only missiles and plasma cannons at the Crusher, and lasers wouldn’t alter its momentum in any measurable way. Even plasma bolts wouldn’t do much, but a spray of debris away from the north side of the ship would have some reaction. At least they were doing something. The explosions among parked ships appeared to have diminished, if not halted. More of them were lifting to join him. His warning that they were being targeted by something, with explosive results they could definitely see, had spurred enlisted crew members to take chances they would normally have been too cautious to attempt.

The shuttle pilot, a long time Bridge officer, was performing far above a mere pilot’s rating. He had the tracks of both Crushers presented on a split screen at his console, with a projected future track of each. The arc of the tracks was steadily updating, shifting the points of predicted impact closer and closer to the Crushers current locations, moving closer to the two domes. This shifting of impact points proved beyond a doubt the two huge craft were being steadily pulled lower faster than Rogue 2’s gravity dictated. To Fendrel, each track’s rate of adjustment looked as if they would plow into the planet in the vicinity of the two domes. The enemy had created their most potent instruments of destruction today out of the Thandol’s prized symbols for projecting their might to their subservient species.

The missiles and plasma hits on the side of the Victory was producing a slight deviation in its previous course. Aside from the impacts, there were sizable sections of hull plates, decks, and bulkheads blown away from the north facing plane, which added to the small change in momentum towards the south.

“Sire,” it was 2-1427’s lieutenant. “All beams and missiles passed through the two mass concentrations without any affect. They encountered nothing solid. Although, the missiles were deflected slightly from their tracks.”

“Thank you lieutenant. It is a mystery we will not solve today, but you have provided a useful observation and a test of what the enemy is doing. Join the other ships in our attempt to prevent the Federation from destroying the gold dome, and the ships there.”

The bombardment of the Crusher continued, and the ragged north side spewed more of the ship’s innards, and slowly, the vessel started to roll, presenting another side to target. It’s projected track now indicated the impact would just miss the dome to its south, and would no longer pass through the center of the parked ships as it struck.

His pilot and other Bridge officers, frustrated to have no means to fight back directly, instead had sought signs of the enemy, and looked for traces of the projectiles that were doing the damage to the domes and parked ships. Their extreme velocity and apparent small size enabled them elude direct detection. Nevertheless, based on the directions of debris sprays from hundreds of hits all the way through their targets, their shuttle’s AI system, not a top notch system, still had arrived at useful conclusions when they directed it to examine where the shooters were.

“Sire, we have evidence that there are no more than ten sources for the projectiles, and probably fewer if the same attackers target us from different positions. We thought perhaps they were shooting from close to the surface, but a single ship appears to fire a series of ten projectiles and then pauses, and moves slightly for another series of ten shots. Using the angle between the individual ten shots, and then from the change in direction for the next ten, we estimated the point from where they were fired. It repeatedly has been roughly a thousand miles above the surface, always at a range the provides a shallow impact angle for the arriving projectile. This increases the chance for a hit as the projectile passes through a cluster of ships. These are not as well guided as a missile is.

“There also has been a sharp decrease in the rate of hits in the last small fractions of a cycle. It is not for a lack of targets. We still have thousands of ships that were empty, or did not have flight qualified personnel aboard, and are easy stationary targets. This may indicate fewer craft, with limited ammunition stores. There have been nearly 500 hundred hits.”

All of the numbers the Thandol officer mentioned, and were calculated by their AI, were stated in their base four numbering system, of course. The clustering of ten shots in a row, and previous hints that humans used a base ten numbering system, led to an eventual estimate of only five ships involved in this raid, with repetitions of ten shots before they required a reload. A ridiculously low number of enemy for the hideous damage so few of them accomplished.

Again, it was like a repetition of the previous attacks the Federation had conducted in Empire Space. Massive damage done while using few attackers, and employing stealth, or deception to get close to relatively undefended military targets, and employing unusual tactics and weapons. They seemed to always chose targets that were presumed safe because of where they were located, or in the case of Rogue 2, at base so secret that it wasn’t even known to their security species, the Finth in this region.

Fendrel, even without the benefit of the hindsight that would eventually evolve, already knew there wasn’t many of the enemy, and they had run out of ammunition, or their weapons had a limited number of repeat shots possible, like a plasma cannon after the ceramic barrels cracked and needed replacing.

He linked fleet wide again. “I call on every ship in orbit, or that can reach orbit. I believe the enemy has ceased firing at parked ships only because they are unable to do so anymore. They have done significant damage, but five hundred destroyed warships are but a tenth of this great fleet’s strength. What they are attempting to do now, by crashing our two Crushers in a controlled fashion, is to damage or destroy thousands of our parked ships.

“It is too late to alter the track of Farlol Ascendant, which will impact near the white dome. However, I order you to continue firing missiles and plasma cannons into Detab’s Victory from the north side, to shift him to the south, away from his present track to strike the gold dome and our ships parked there. Both of our Crushers are doomed, and have already suffered severe damage. We cannot save them, but we can thwart the enemy by saving as many of our other ships as possible, and those of our people trapped in the gold dome. To those operating the additional ships that have just lifted, I order you to join with the rest of us in deflecting the weapon they have made of that great ship.”

Renewed explosions tore into another side of the Victory, as it rolled like a wounded animal, trying to escape its tormentors.  It presented a new face to the weapons that were ravaging it, and they pushed it slowly on a more southerly track. It was almost enough.

As the humongous craft neared the surface, one corner struck the plain ten miles from the south side of the gold dome, but he would obviously smash through some of the ships clustered farther south of the dome. A tremendous spray of ancient gray regolith spread ahead and to the sides of that corner as it dragged, like some vast plow turning over the soil.

That pressure applied incredible stresses to the structure, and hull plates and structural members bent, then tore free. The vessel’s slow roll turned into a ponderous tumble, as the pyramid’s corner dug deeper, finally meeting the unyielding underlying bedrock. The stress fractured the rigid thick trusses that formed the edge framework, and one face swung down quickly, to smash into the plain nearly face down on that side.

The entire structure of the enormous ship shifted, twisted, and shattered, as a vast spray of dust, rock, and structural material from the ship flew ahead and to the sides, with some sections of the internal modularity of the ship’s construction tearing free of their neighbors. It was still miles from the southern edge of the hundreds of ships on the dome’s south side. However, it was apparent that the debris, some thrown higher as the tumble accelerated, was spreading wider, and huge sections would rip into and shatter many of the parked ships, and fragments would even strike the southern side of the two-mile-wide dome.

There was no atmosphere to keep the dust suspended very long, but it also didn’t hinder it’s rise, as the five miles per second velocity of millions of tons of metal smashed into the surface, vaporizing some of the planetary rock, along with the structural steel of the deepest penetrating bulkheads and decks. This was nearly as violent as would happen with an asteroid impact, although this collision was at a considerably lower velocity than most of those were.

The huge spray of surface impact debris flew ahead of the heavier material, covering the ships and dome with the light surface dust and small rocks, concealing view of the destruction as the shattered ship and fractured bedrock smashed their way through any opposition.

Fendrel couldn’t see how widespread the damage was below his shuttle yet, and might not for long minutes as the high flung dust settled. The images from the few Smashers on the opposite side of the planet, who had made a heroic but futile effort to divert the Ascendant, revealed the shallow impact angle of that instrument of destruction had been accurately targeted. It struck the surface no further than a half ship length from the outer edge of the targeted plain, which was covered with parked ships, and it would sweep through the center of their clustering.

Over a thousand ships vanished under the onslaught of dust, which spread over them and concealed them ahead of the advancing destruction. The white dome was struck by more and larger debris that was the gold dome, and that would increase the lives taken there.

Fendrel had a self-serving thought. If Shanthot has survived, he will have to explain this military disaster to the Emperor, not me.

****

Sarge summed it up nicely, with an odd sounding complement to Mirikami. “Well, that’s another fine mess you’ve made.”

“Thanks. I try.”

“What do we destroy next? They still have at least three thousand ships here.”

“Nothing worth the risk.” Tet told him. “Our Grav gun magazines are empty, although we do have twenty anti-ship missiles left between the five of us. They can’t do a lot of damage compared to what we’ve already done, and they’ll reveal our locations, and how few of us there are if we launch them.

“There’s nearly a thousand of their ships aloft now, and they’re so gun shy that they’ve fire wildly at even the scraps that were blown off the Crushers. We’re in Scouts, not heavy cruisers. We might not withstand a heavy laser or plasma bolt hit, should they accidentally connect during random return fire, directed towards where we were when we fired. I’m sending you four home, and as we told you previously, Maggi and I are going to visit the Hothor and Olt’kitapi.”

Noreen asked, “What were you going to do there? I don’t recall you saying.”

Maggi, who had planned the visit, answered. “I have ideas to share with them about how to disrupt the Imperial Court with false rumors. They have thousands of Hothor employed on Wendal, or by other noble families on other Thandol planets. There are dozens of extended and powerful Thandol family herds that are not part of the Farlol line.

“The Hothor also know which other species have similar employment placements, and which ones might be willing to share the risks of planting evidence of a coup in the making. I have one hundred additional Prada com sets to give them, and a few dozen subversive seeming files that could implicate influential Thandol, who might plausibly wish to replace the Emperor, or support someone else who wants the throne.

“Most of what I want to plant is in the form of digital files, although I have some subversive slogans written in Thandol script, recorded on an erasable crystal matrix they sometimes use for temporary private communications. We found some of the crystal tablets in the section of the Crusher I sheared off and took with me.

“Those can be left, accidentally of course, where allies of the present Emperor can find them. In addition, we have the memcache addresses of a large number of mid to high level military and political leaders. We’d have to ask the Hothor to use the Prada com sets at relatively close range, on the same planet that is, to send these files to their memcaches. We have unlimited range with our Comtaps and Prada com devices, when those operate in tachyon modulation mode, but Thandol memcaches only use radio, with a range that is considerably less than planetary distances in a typical solar system.

“The subversive files I’ve created were tested for their effect on our two Thandol officers. It produced the proper outraged reaction in those loyal Farlol the 84th supporters, and they would have reported those communications to higher authority, as I want to happen. I used their thoughts to improve the grammar and phrasing, to alter them to ensure they were subtle enough, with no clue as to who sent them. These are tentative solicitations for the individuals I’ll target, to inquire if they would accept future roles of greater importance, either within a new Imperial court, the military High Command, or if they would like to rise in power and influence within some department of government. These solicitations would imply the positions would only become available should the Imperial Throne become vacant, for any reason, in the near future.”

Dillion was puzzled. “How does this involve the Olt’kitapi, Maggi? If you give more of the com sets to the Hothor, you bypass the need to communicate with the Hothor by relay through the Olt’kitapi. Those isolated insect representatives of their species have been in hiding a long time, and they appear to have withdrawn from a leading role in guiding developing species, as they once did. I’d think you would want them to become more involved, not less.”

She sounded enthusiastic and excited with her reply. “That is changing, I think. At least according to the Dismantlers, who have furnished them with the full history of their once glorious past. They now wish to understand how our Comtaps work, and particularly how their own designs for Olts and mind enhancers do, because we do not experience the overwhelming emotional impact that they, and their Dismantlers suffer, when mass deaths of millions of intelligent minds occur, and they are responsible in any fashion.

“For the Olt’kitapi it was their deliberate destruction of the Krall home planet, when they tried to save their civilization from that bloody revolt. We know what happened to the Dismantlers, when the Krall tricked them into similar destructive acts.”

“How will they harden their conscience to those deaths?” Noreen wondered. “We aren’t even aware of the wave of tachyons they sensed, and I don’t honestly think most humans would die of grief over the deaths of every living Krall. Even if they pulled the trigger that caused it to happen.”

“They may have been too decent for their own good,” Maggi answered. “To ensure they could not act with an indifference to death, as did other species they encountered, they increased the sensitivity of their own mind enhancers, to sense tachyon disturbances related to the minds of intelligent and self-aware creatures. It was apparently increased to a level where they experienced a strong emotional sense of guilt, if they acted irresponsibly and killed others. I don’t mean if they killed one, or even hundreds, particularly if they intended no harm. They had wanted to restrict their baser instincts, and unknowingly left themselves exposed to extinction, when forced to act for self-preservation. They said they wish to remodel their emotional limits based on more successful examples of survival. Like us.”

It didn’t make sense to Thad. “If we, and other aggressive species are heartless bastards, and the Olt’kitapi have a moral conscience so strong it can trigger a fatal level of grief in them, how in hell can studying us and our Comtaps change that? I felt no damned guilt over humans killing billions of Krall warriors. They’d best not use us as a model, since the undeserved guilt will still kill them.”

“Tone it down killer, ape.” She teased. “The Dismantlers and Olt’kitapi think all they need do is find a level of tachyon sensitivity for their mind enhancers, which prevents them from casually committing genocide without regret, and allow their inborn decency to guide them other times. They certainly want to be less beastly than you or Sarge, to name our two most blood thirsty examples. Yet they have to be capable of fighting back with reasonable force, against those that want to kill or enslave them.”

“OK. Say they do that.”  He challenged. “Hiding under their camouflage canopy on Canji Dol, where I discovered them, it doesn’t seem necessary to me to reduce their exposure to guilt for killing in self-defense. Unless they step on a lot of smaller bugs in the woods, after they embed less sensitive mind enhancers.”

“Aren’t you in a charitable mood? How about if they become Federation citizens, and build that vast artificial habitat they were on the verge of starting, over twenty thousand years ago?”

“Really? How? They lost all of that knowledge, I thought. Did the Dismantlers have all of that data stored? If so, they’re damn fast learners.”

“Lunkhead. They can regain it the same way the mindless Raspani got their knowledge restored, you twit. The ancient Olt’kitapi died, not their mind enhancers. They don’t have the massive storage libraries of preserved living minds, as the Raspani created to hide themselves from the Krall, but they told me they have thousands of old mind enhancers. These were left behind, in the bodies of the dead adults which were aboard the intelligent ships that saved the immature Olt’kitapi, and brought them to the Hothor. With Torki and Raspani help, they can recover and copy the knowledge belonging to the various castes of their species, and transfer that to new mind enhancers, after they determine a safe sensitivity to tachyon waves, those triggered by deaths of intelligent beings.”

“Who they gonna kill to determine that?” Sarge asked, in a wise crack.

Maggi thought, Sarge and Thad make for a good pairing. Equally sensitive, and typical males of the human species.

What she said however, was, “I’d offer you two as test subjects, but I did say deaths of intelligent beings.” She laughed lightly, then added.

“Huwayla, in one of our discussions, explained that she, and her sister ships sensed mass deaths multiple times per day, from remote locations in the Universe. At low energy tachyon speeds, the waves arrive instantly, although she didn’t explain how she knew they came from far away.

“In her case, not being responsible for what happened, she did not feel emotionally effected and experienced no guilt. That wasn’t the case for the two PU solar systems she was duped into wrecking. She believed these daily unknown examples were in distant galaxies, caused by various disasters such as supernovae or other natural causes, as well as the possible result of some far off war. They’ll have plenty of examples to measure.”

“Damn.” It was Ethan this time. “I wonder if we’ll become the protectors they hoped the Krall would be? I’m not sure, based on how decent they were to the other developing and peaceful species they met, if we’re not too rough around the edges for them.”

Maggi asked, “If not us, then who? Not the Thandol or Ragnar, although we’ve never met the Finth or Thack Delos. If the Thandol found those two species useful to them, to help them rule their empire, I doubt either one is half as pleasant as we are in a fight, and we can be pretty damn nasty. Just ask the Thandol at Wendal, Meglor, or Rogue 2, and the Ragnar at Paradise and Tanner’s World. They won’t find more capable guardians, and nice doesn’t win wars.”

“If they want our help, how can we protect the Olt’kitapi, hidden as they are in Empire territory?”

“We can’t,” she admitted. “Although, if I can convince them to flee the Empire, to return to their old worlds in Federation Space, we’ll have a chance to help them recover some what they lost. I’d like to find out how much of their technology they can regain from those old mind enhancers. I’d love to see that Dyson Swarm they wanted to build.”

Mirikami added his thoughts. “I’d like it if we could give the Olt’kitapi another chance at greatness. That sentiment is largely altruistic on our part as a group, I think, but there’s a smattering of a self-serving motive on my part. It could reflect well on wild-child humanity, when we meet other ancient and advanced species in the Milky Way.”

Chapter 12: Bugs, Guts, and War

Tet and Maggi’s Scout was above Canji Mot. “Chief Counselor Semal, this small ship proved itself to be undetectable by the Thandol traffic monitors in Level 2 or 3 travel, both at Wendal itself, and at a secret military planet called Rogue 2.”

Mirikami was trying to reassure the Hothor leader that the ship’s movements in their solar system could not be detected.

“Had they been able to see five of these ships arriving, unannounced at either location, where we know they are watching intently for intruders, there would have been an extremely hostile reception waiting for us. There is no risk that they can detect us here, where they have devoted few resources.” They had just departed Canji Mot, planning to travel to nearby Canji Dol, the second habitable planet orbiting their home star, to meet with the Olt’kitapi.

As evidence that he believed Mirikami’s assurance, the Hothor leader’s next words accepted his claim without need of further explanation, and then abruptly shifted to a purely cultural matter. “Your ship’s design represents a leap in technology compared to the Thandol. However, your mode of addressing us could use some improvement. I’m not offended, but you have engaged in name usage that is confusing to us, such as when you addressed me as Chief Counselor Semal. It should be Chief Counselor Firl. My full name is Firl Jaf Semal, with Semal being my father’s personal name, and Jaf is that of my mother, and Firl is my own given name.

“When you greeted my Third Minister Yida, by radio, you always use Hanbi in addressing him, which is his father’s name. His full name is Yida Gof Hanbi. Do you see the error you are making?”

“Yes, I do. I apologize, but my mate is the diplomat of our pairing, and also the linguist. She is presently helping our AI to integrate the Hothor language database, which Third Minister Yida provided for our use. It is in a similar format to the Thandol language database, which our AI has mastered.

“The new translation process should simplify and improve our communications soon, when we start to communicate with you in your own language. Our AI is assimilating the data now, and incorporating your rules for grammar and social customs, as Yida explains them.”

In the meantime, Mirikami heard his words in Standard being repeated in the trumpeting and bugling pidgin version of the Thandol language, which the Hothor’s own translation system was now converting into their own spoken language. It was cumbersome and too slow.

Mirikami commented on the hazards of that method. “It is awkward, and poor politics to be forced to converse with you in the demeaning Thandol subservient species dialect, which they insist you use with them. However, that has been the only common tongue we had available for communication with you. There are certain to be unavoidable errors in translation from our language, to Thandol, to your language, and back to us again.”

Firl’s round shaped head was shaking back and forth on his long hairy neck, a sign of negation in a human, but for the sloth-like Hothor, it actually indicated agreement. “Yes. I was sure you would welcome such a minor correction, Captain Tetsuo,” Firl said, making exactly the same name use error in reverse as he spoke to his host, Captain Mirikami.

Maggi, monitoring the conversation by Comtap while she worked with an AI on the translation software, told her husband with amusement, “The AI that’s running the current translation, using a Thandol database, will switch to the new system shortly. With the Hothor database and rules in place, when a Hothor’s full name, or at least their personal first name is known, it will apply the correct name in translated conversations. It will also correct Firl’s own mistake just now, when our rules are applied to their speech conventions. We need our communications to be as accurate as possible, since improper translations can provoke misunderstandings, which might escalate a discussion or negotiation into hostilities. Please don’t correct him right now, Captain Tetsuo.” She sent him an image of a grin and a wink.

Moving to another subject, Mirikami thanked the First Counselor for his contribution to Maggi’s conspiracy project, to make the Emperor and his closest associates physically miserable, and convinced that a coup was being planned.

“The parasite eggs you provided to us will ensure the Emperor will be staying home for most of the next orbit, in quarantine. So will the first sets of visiting nobles that might share his prized browsing plots, who will carry some of the hatching parasites home with them in their gut, and spread the infestation. With the Emperor as patient zero, the source of every other infection will be traced back to him. Not a flattering portrayal of his personal hygiene.”

Unspoken were the details of how the Hothor, within only a few hours of Maggi’s inquiry, managed to provide the parasite eggs in four small sealed containers. She’d only asked where the parasites could be found, should the Federation wish to infect the Emperor, or other Thandol. They obviously had them on hand, despite emphatically stating that they were not native to any of their three inhabited worlds. Clearly, they were prepared for minor biological warfare; and they possibly possessed more dangerous bioweapons, which they didn’t admit to possessing.

When Maggi accepted them, she voiced her concern that using the parasites on the Emperor might cause the Thandol to suspect the Hothor, or some other species of spreading them. She didn’t want to provoke some form of retaliatory killing of innocents.

“Ambassador Fisher, we are not at risk,” he reassured her. Suddenly, it was obvious from that reply that the AI was using the new language database, since for the first time the translation software inserted her last name after her title in Standard, on behalf of the oblivious Hothor. She and Firl no longer heard the noisy Thandol speech used as the intermediate language. Her Comtap fed Standard to her mind, translated directly from the spoken words of the First Counselor. Her words to him became the hissing sibilants, and occasional rasping glottal clicks of the Hothor language, issuing from the fob around her neck.

The sudden absence of the annoying intermediary trumpeting of Thandol speech spared both of them the ringing in their ears, of a language neither of them had the capability to speak, or in the case of a Hothor, could not fully hear with their more limited range of sound reception. A Kobani, with wolfbat hearing supplementing their human sense, could hear every sound a Thandol could utter.

Firl’s small dark eyes, set in a black skinned face, widened suddenly in the Hothor expression of pleasure, as a simple unspoken acknowledgement of the smoother and faster communications. He explained to her why there was no risk of any subservient species being blamed, if the Imperial Court developed the symptoms of this intestinal disease. That might not be true in other settings, outside of the palace grounds.

“Only Thandol are allowed above the ground floor inside the Imperial compound, on pain of death from Debilitater beams if discovered. Alien servants have never seen the royal rooftop browsing plots, except possibly from orbit.”

Maggi addressed all four of the Hothor, now that the translation software was streamlining their conversations. “First Counselor, Ministers, we have detailed images of the Emperor’s upper chambers and gardens within the palace compound, and have seen the grow plots for his favored grass. We can land almost silently on a roof, and reach them by foot, or by rooftop leaps, staying clear of places where there might be sensors that could detect non Thandol footpads. Our body armor has the same stealth system as this ship.”

Firth had seen the pictures. “Your mate shared those images with us. We may never find them of practical use, but they will join our ever growing compilation of information the Thandol do not want us to possess.”

Mirikami complemented him, “An excellent idea. Information often finds unexpected use. For example, the information your kitchen worker on Wendal provided us, about the Emperor’s imminent speech to his subjects. That speech will be delivered to a gathering in the Great Square, to the side of the palace compound. That provides us with an earlier opportunity to distribute these eggs than if we had to wait for the celebration of his assuming the throne. According to past protocol, the Emperor and his court sycophants, and most of the palace guard, will accompany him there, leaving his personal quarters less well observed and lightly staffed.”

The shorter First Counselor looked up at Mirikami intently, as he commented. “I wonder if you people from the Federation created this opportunity for yourselves. Grifta Thop Raula, the Kitchen Assistant who you urged the Olt’kitapi to present with one of your communication devices, relayed to us what he told you. The Emperor is going to speak to the people of Wendal about the terrible natural disaster the planet suffered yesterday, just before you arrived here. An unanticipated atmospheric expansion, or bulge, caused three pieces of massive space debris to fall out of orbit. The three impacts along the equator caused considerable damage in their industrial heartland, and killed several wealthy noble Thandol that controlled those industries.” His dark eyes widened again.

He’s pleased, believing we caused it to happen, Mirikami thought.

Firl didn’t ask that directly, but he fished when he offered another observation. “This sort of accident sounds improbable, because the Thandol normally plan for every factor that could lead to such a risk.” He watched Mirikami and Fisher for any reaction, but humans were alien to him, and he wasn’t certain if he’d recognize a sign of complicity or guilt if he saw it in their expressions. The only oddity to him was the rather immobile stone faces they maintained as he told them. They were normally very talkative and expressive.

“Yes,” Maggi agreed, casually, “it’s odd they made such a miscalculation. However, we should take advantage of the chance to distribute these eggs within his residence. Having this infection happen to the Emperor, right after that disaster, could cause him considerable personal embarrassment and loss of stature, preventing him from making more public appearances, or performing State visits to shore up his political support. This is a happy coincidence indeed.”

Mirikami interrupted with an announcement. “We’ve just arrived at orbital height, directly above the Olt’kitapi compound, where we were instructed to land.”

That surprised the four Hothor, because they were unaware the smooth and quiet spacecraft had even executed a Jump from Canji Mot. After that, Mirikami seemed to have a brief Comtap discussion with someone on the ground, then the small ship did one more thing they were unaware it could do, something it did not do on arrival to Canji Mot. It micro Jumped and emerged underneath the artificial canopy, which camouflaged the entire region occupied by the large insects. To be precise, it rotated into Normal Space, replacing the pocket of atmosphere with a pop, hovering about the length of the ship above the floor of a large clearing, where they’d met with the Olt’kitapi previously. The Scout then settled gently on its Normal Space drive.

As the six visitors made their exit from the Scout, two Olt’kitapi, a bright purple colored builder form and a dull green and tan maker form, approached them from a structure built between the tall natural trees.

Mirikami and Maggi assumed they were Prola and her mate, Frithda, whom they met with previously. However, the species was so new to them they had not yet picked up on the different details which could uniquely identify individuals. Previously, the other Olt’kitapi had not approached them closely, and were seen only at a moderate distance. This time there were others of them moving closer, in their jerky insect leg movements, and sporting various colors. The females all had brighter colors, sporting shades of purple, blue, orange and pale reds. The drabber males displayed shades of duller greens, tans, browns, and some had mottled black markings or splotches. The heights of the insects varied, with maker forms of either gender being taller, and builder forms shorter in length, holding more of their torso horizontal as they moved.

They had learned about the colors from the Hothor on the previous visit, but it was surprising that the brighter colors always stayed with the female gender, but the body style did not, since some of them were maker forms, and others had builder forms, and there were forms that were blends of the pure body style of each type. Yet, the bright or drab gender defining colors did not blend or mix, permitting easy detection of which sex you were seeing.

The Olt’kitapi were also present in the trees and on the side of many of their structures, which Mirikami noted had large openings for entry or exit far above ground level, and no steps. It didn’t appear they held any fear of being so far up, as they used many small niches and protrusions clearly built into the walls for footholds, as they casually walked up or down the sides of fairly tall buildings.

He commented to his wife, using Comtap rather than speaking aloud, a joint decision they had made earlier. “I can understand their predilection for building the huge soaring structurers that the Dismantlers shared with us in old stored images. No fear of heights. They once had the power of flight when their bodies were smaller and more primitive. I remember seeing Prola ruffle her vestigial wings on our first visit.”

Maggi nodded, “I see some of their liking for geometric forms in their angular structures. The Torki, who can move their eye stalks one at a time, say their own minds are influenced by how they perceive the world, able to see matters with two perspectives at once, and can use their claws and manipulators ambidextrously, with each eye stalk guiding their simultaneous but independent actions.

“With that insight into their own minds as a guide, the Torki believe the compound eyes of the Olt’kitapi may have contributed to their exceptional mathematical ability, and helped them master the interdimensional geometries, which led them to develop an early Jump capability. They were mathematically aware of higher dimensions of Tachyon Space long before they discovered how to design ships with the ability to reach those levels. It’s why their Jump engine design for clanships could be modified with minor hardware and complex software, to reach T-cubed travel in Tachyon Space. We humans didn’t even see that geometric possibility, and our engine designs, to first travel in level one, then for level two they had to be scrapped, and yet again redesigned to reach level three for the even higher speeds. Only now do human engines have the triple level capability. Makes you wonder what else those bug eyes helped them learn that we don’t know.”

She found out quicker than she expected. She and Mirikami had been using their Comtaps to communicate via tachyon modulation for greater security, despite being so close together that lower power radio would work perfectly and more efficiently. This way they had a system that couldn’t be detected or intercepted. So they thought.

Unexpectedly, via their Comtaps they heard, “We agree that our improved grasp of geometries is related to the multiple visual images we must integrate, and which our brains blend to furnish us a synthesis of the Universe around us. We sense that your remarkable matrix memory provides you with rapid access to a large amount of information you can store biologically. We admire that flexibility, and redundancy. That biological solution is in addition to the technology of your mind enhancers, and that library storage area is based on the designs we provided to the Raspani, Torki, Krall’tapi, and the Flandarlans.”

Who’s that talking? Maggi asked her husband, her hand touching his to share the thought privately and telepathically.

Mirikami answered the previous speaker via Comtap, while Maggi was still trying to decide who was talking. He knew who. There was none of the mental familiarity a Kobani sensed with Comtap use, when it was any creature they knew personally and had sensed their thoughts previously, but he was observant and intuitive.

Having seen a finger-like digit flip up briefly, on the purple alien approaching them, he said in Standard, translated to Hothor, “Greetings Prola. We didn’t know you had decided to adapt mind enhancers again, so soon after learning they were the source of the emotional risks your ancestors faced. My wife and I are both curious. How did you obtain our two different device addresses?”

Before she answered that question, she expressed her own surprise. “You knew I spoke to you both, but I did so independently, not in a group link. From your words you knew she wanted to know who was speaking to your mind enhancers, although I spoke to each of you separately, because I do not know the protocol of your devices for linking you together, as in a conference discussion.” She displayed the same quick analytical mind they had encountered on their first meeting.

“You exchanged information between you, but I did not sense tachyon or radio modulation of your mate speaking to you, by what you call a Comtap. Do humans have some form of mind to mind communications?”

Deliberately blocking her thoughts for anyone but her husband, Maggi said mentally via hand contact, “They figured out I sent you a thought because we weren’t on our guard, but we had best keep our thoughts private for now. I doubt they know we can do that, but they will learn soon enough.”

“Right! But I may as well admit we have telepathy. All of Federation and Human Space knows that.” Now he answered the last question.

“Yes, Prola, and if you can receive me, I include you Frithda. Only the Kobani variation of humanity, of which we are examples, have what we call contact telepathy. We must touch someone to use it.” With Comtaps, that wasn’t strictly true, but why elaborate if not required?

“It is one of our genetic enhancements, as is the memory matrix that can be linked to our Comtaps. Both memory matrix and telepathy gene modifications are possible because of our organic superconductor nerves, which we also obtained genetically, from the unique native life on the planet Koban, our adopted home.”

A different “voice” came through their Comtaps, and a tan digit wave told them that it was Frithda. “We had deduced you had a high gravity musculature, and your observed grace of movement and reflex speed also implied to us you had such a physical ability. We did not know it was artificially added, much as our mind enhancers used technology to support and improve our minds. You have added that to your remarkable biological enhancements. We would be extremely reluctant to risk such a serious alteration of our genetics, a science with which we have relatively little experience. It must have been a valuable contribution in your war against the Krall.”

“It was. Faced with the long and extensive Krall breeding program, that was why we risked extreme genetic changes. Although, humans employed disastrous gene changes in a war previously, and we paid the price of near extinction. There are certainly dangers involved. For our only chance to win the war against the Krall, or be exterminated, we accepted the risk.

“However, I still don’t understand how you discovered our Comtap device addresses, which use the same complex addressing that all of your devices use, with an almost infinite set of addresses possible. We normally have to meet someone and share a radio link first, before we can exchange our device address. Or we can provide, or receive, a database that lists many such links, normally with a basic listing of who will answer each address, and those are stored on our Comtap, Olt, or mind enhancer. Did you obtain such a list that included our addresses?”

“No,” Frithda admitted. “We don’t know where we could find such a list. But it wasn’t required. You were speaking to one another as you approached us, using a long range instant communications mode. Our mind enhancers sensed the tachyon modulation, and although we still do not know what your specific addresses are, we know that the first part of every communication between you contained that unknown address, as the only part that is repeated each time you communicate. We simply copied and used that initial pattern as the unknown address, because we knew from your proximity that the modulations originated from the two of you. Had you been on your ship in space, it wouldn’t have been possible to identify that exchange out of the web of many such communications and random noise.”

“Oh.” Was all Mirikami could think to say to that simple explanation. He’d just learned that “tachyon talk,” as some young Kobani called it, was actually sort of a community party-line, provided you had the means to detect the modulation, and if the data that was exchanged, after the address was sent, was not encrypted. That would be the next enhancement for Comtaps, to employ encryption for information they had foolishly thought was impossible to intercept, except by the intended receiver. They had routinely encrypted short range radio communications via Comtaps, knowing those could certainly be intercepted.

He and Maggi exchanged their device addresses with the two Olt’kitapi, and obtained theirs in exchange, for the sake of future long range instant communication. They had the option of blocking calls from them, as they could for any annoying callers in the highly unlikely event open communications with them proved to be ill advised.

Those details handled, Maggi was curious, “You have mind enhancers again. How will you protect yourselves from the tragedy that befell your race, when they were trying to stop the Krall attacks on them? Destroying the Krall home world was traumatic, and the sensing of those deaths proved more emotional than your ancestor’s minds could accept. Have you altered your minds?” The question was rhetorical, since she knew what had probably been done.

Prola answered, and confirmed her supposition. “The libraries of stored data contained technical information on use of the mind enhancers. We have removed the software coding that permitted them to automatically sense, interpret, and report the finest details of low energy tachyons. You might say we now have medium level sensitivity as a default, with the ability to adjust to an even less sensitive level if circumstances require. We sensed your own tachyon communications at that midlevel. If one of our people, with the newly adjusted parameters, should become mentally unstable and killed many members of any intelligent species at one time, they may regret their actions later, but not at a level where they could not endure continued existence.”

Mirikami felt less than reassured. “That’s good for your species. Is it good for the rest of us?”

Her answer was blunt. “You Kobani have caused billions of the Krall to die, and yet you can’t even sense the disturbance caused when their conscience minds break the links to the low level tachyon background field. I suspect most of your people do not feel guilt or regret at those actions against the Krall. We would feel that guilt and regret, but more weakly now, even if the actions were necessary for our survival. Today, we would survive the destruction of the Krall’s home world under the same circumstances that pushed our ancestors into taking that terrible and drastic action.

“We will not criticize the choices you have made for the survival of your species, but we were never a predatory or aggressive species due how our natural evolution progressed. We have not, we could not, and we would not want to artificially enhance our minds and bodies to become the most dangerous species we have yet encountered. Although, you humans often show empathy and compassion for others. Perhaps the telepathic ability of you Kobani humans serves to reinforce those traits, yet clearly does not limit your ability to defend your own interests.

“You have demonstrated those emotions with the Hothor and the other repressed species under the Thandol. As well as saving the peoples our ancestors helped to elevate to intelligence, the Torki and Raspani. Unfortunately, the gentle Flandarlans were made extinct by the Krall, before their mind enhancers had raised them far enough to achieve more than local interplanetary travel. They could not flee to other stars. According to our Dismantlers there is no record of them now, so they were all apparently lost.”

Mirikami realized the mystery species just named was simply one more of the unknown names of some of the races the Krall had completely eliminated. Prola was right. He didn’t feel regret at being responsible for destroying so many Krall, nor would he feel guilt, if those he ordered preserved out of hope for a better future for them, failed to overcome their deliberately inbred violent tendencies, and wiped themselves out on the world where they were now trapped.

Maggi and he were about to broach the real subject of their visit, when the astute mind of an Olt’kitapi again was displayed.

Frithda said, “We believe you have come to invite us into the Federation, to join you. Even if our old worlds and colonies are available to us, we do not wish to return to them. Those worlds are no longer our home, nor is Canji Dol our home, and here we place our hosts, the Hothor, at risk if the Thandol Empire unravels and enters a period of chaos. If we are found here, our benefactors may not survive the revenge taken. We want to go to where our ancestors were about to construct a multispecies habitat, which you have described as a Dyson Swarm, of individual planetary radius habitats. There is a name for that system in the Hothor language, which appears to most closely match a word in the Standard data base you furnished to them. We think you would call that star system Excelsior, as the place where we would bring many species together in peace, to allow them and ourselves, to eventually elevate our minds to a higher plane of existence, which our perception of the geometry of the Universe suggests may be possible.”

After a momentary awed silence, Maggi found her tongue. “Yes. Well, we do intend to invite you Olt’kitapi to live in the Galactic Federation, even if you still believe our name is overly grand for the small portion of the galaxy we claim. Are you sure all of your people wish to move there?”

Frithda splayed all twelve of his hand-like digits briefly. “We project that you humans will attempt to fragment the Empire, and if successful, will try to assimilate the pieces in the far future, into a growing Galactic Federation that may live up to the name you have selected. As for our people, why do you think so many have moved closer to you this time?” He waved his right appendage, the longest finger length grasper extended, to direct their eyes to the thousands of multicolored insects looking back at them. The other Olt’kitapi knew exactly what was being discussed.

“We are ready to come out from under our camouflage. We are natural builders and makers, and we desire to build and make great things again. With the regained knowledge of how to do it, contained in the many mind enhancers we were able to recover, we can do it more quickly than we thought. We want to create Excelsior.”

Mirikami cautioned them. “The only habitable place in that system is a planet sized moon of a super gas giant. It isn’t very welcoming, but your Dismantlers have survived there for many thousands of years. That red dwarf star may last a hundred billion years, but it doesn’t produce a great deal of energy to grow food on that world. We’ll help you if we can, of course, but we may find ourselves in a full scale war with the Empire.”

Prola dismissed concern over how they would cope with their new home. “We will have the raw materials to make what we require. Safe transport to there is all that we need to protect the Hothor, and the faithful Dismantlers are so large, that they cannot safely travel as fast as the small ship you used today. As for you providing us with resources to become established, we decline. As you suspect, you will be needing all the resources you can gather, and more. We have intercepted recent Thandol long-range tachyon communications.”

“What do you mean?” Mirikami and Maggi felt a sense of unease.

“We wish you success in your mission to weaken the rule of the Emperor, which should gain you more time to gather your forces, and build more of your new ships and weapons. Even if you overthrow the present Emperor, the Thandol have new information that may push them to act sooner than is typical for them. The High Command was instructed to confirm or refute what the Emperor suspects, that the Federation was behind what happened at Wendal a few cycles ago, as well as at their base a cycle later.

“If it is confirmed, he will feel compelled to display his strength to those that may wish to overthrow him if he appears weak. You should leave as soon as possible for Wendal, to weaken the Emperor’s position before he reaches his decision. We hope for good fortune for the two of you, and your Galactic Federation, where we too chose to live.”

****

Farlol’s public relations assistant had requested a moment with the Emperor, who was reviewing the speech he was about to give. “Your Imperial Majesty, before you address your subjects, there has been a follow up message from Rogue 2, sent by your second cousin, Captain Shanthot, who survived the attack there, and the destruction of his Crusher. He says the analysis of our losses there continue, and they have more information about how the enemy forced the Crushers out of orbit. There were two thousand nine ships of all types destroyed, and many hundreds more damaged, of over five thousand eight hundred ships gathered there. The damage was concentrated primarily on Smashers, and in particular the far smaller number of Stranglers.

“He says the high ratio of Strangler losses, nearly all of them, implies the enemy was fearful of those ships, despite their not being capable of conductive an effective defense of the base. For that reason, it appears one important goal was to reduce the threat that the assembling fleet represented to the population at the Federation target world. We know their most effective human fighters are more susceptible to the Debilitater radiation than are most species. That is what our Alien Intelligence Service learned from our paid Ragnar informants. That information supports our belief that it was Federation ships that made the attack, and selectively destroyed those Stranglers first.

“Their projectile weapons fired incredibly high velocity small projectiles, made of a dense material accelerated to over one percent the velocity of light in a short distance. The only sign of the launches were indistinct mass density anomalies, seen for a short time, that moved impossibly fast towards the targets and grew huge, yet always vanished before the projectile impacts.”

Farlol asked, “Could the large masses be the stealthed ships? If so, we could fire Decoherence bombs at them even without precise targets.”

“Captain Shanthot says they were not ships, because plasma bolts, lasers, and missiles passed through the centers of other similar mass centers, those that pulled the disabled Crushers out of orbit. He and other officers believe the enemy has gravity control beyond what we have within our ships, which we use for inertial compensation and internal gravity. They were somehow able to project, or broadcast, a powerful gravitational field where they wanted. They used this method to pull the disabled Crushers out of orbit, and smash them into our parked warships.”

“Do we have scientist looking at duplicating that technology?”

“Yes, your Majesty, for a very long time, in fact. They say they have studied the physics of this since we learned the Olt’kitapi had a similar technology tens of thousands of orbits ago. They claim the mathematics is very difficult. We are no closer now, than when the Krall killed the Olt’kitapi. The High Command says the technology obviously is not a perfect weapon, because the Krall defeated their masters, who had that level of gravity control.”

“True, and humans defeated the Krall, who must also have used the stolen technology against them. As the High Command said, it must not be an ultimate weapon so powerful that we cannot defeat them.”

“Your Majesty, High Commander Trindal believes it may also have been used here at Wendal, just before the attack at Rogue 2.”

“What?” His shrill trumpeting revealed he was indignant and outraged. A dangerous mood for a despotic absolute ruler. “I was told it was an unexpected expansion of the upper atmosphere, causing increased drag that brought the Crusher debris down. Was I lied to?” There was an ominous tone to his even louder, deeper note trumpeting.

“No, your Majesty.” His assistant assured him quickly. “The new theory from Commander Trindal is that an unnoticed weak gravity field at orbital altitudes could have attracted the upper atmosphere, causing it to rise. This inconceivable possibility was not possible prior to observing the action at Rogue 2, where there was no atmosphere involved, yet the two Crushers were pulled out of safe orbits.”

The Emperor, calmed by that explanation, was still facing a public relations problem. “I cannot tell the people that the Federation attacked us again here at Wendal. I would appear weak, unable to defend my capitol world. I will tell them of the Federation attack at Rogue 2, without naming the location, or any speculations about new weapons. I can use that attack to distract from what happened here, which I will still call a natural disaster. I can demand greater effort towards retaliation against the Federation. If I do not, I will have coup plotters crawling out of every grassy plain. If I die, you know that those of my Court, and many of my allies will join me.”

That wasn’t always true. If a coup came from within the Emperor’s own extended family of high ranking nobles, it was less violent for those farther downstream from the Emperor’s immediate family and most loyal supporters. If a coup was accomplished by one of the other noble family lines, there would be extensive bloodshed for the Farlol line. Only the lesser Farlol nobles, and other high born family names would be unaffected. The latter might even benefit if they joined the usurpers early.

Except, Farlol the 84th had maintained a tight hold on his throne, and curried favors from political allies, whom he rewarded. If he directed patriotic fervor towards an external enemy, and struck back hard, he could defuse growing opposition to his rule.

“I will focus on the Federation threat, not only for my annexation plans, but for the safety of the Empire. I will modify my speech today, and direct the fervor of the people towards defeating the Federation threat, and they will forget about the unfortunate natural disaster here on Wendal.”

“Yes, your Majesty. Are you ready to proceed to the Great Square now? We should not keep them waiting tonight as you often do. Not if you want them to display the full energy of their trumpeting and bugling in favor of your call to war. The louder it is, the better it will sound and look on the recordings, which I will have sent to all of our colonies and major outposts.”

“Yes, call my Palace guards, all of them this time. I want them displayed behind me in two ranks, in their splendid uniforms, to help lead the trumpeting when I want it to begin. Have their voices amplified, to sound over the entire square to make it sound louder.”

****

The Emperor and his elite one thousand Palace guards, with real weapons held tightly vertical in both trunks, the right tentacle near the shielded trigger lever, the other tentacle on the selector, for choosing what sort of energy beam or projectile they would elect to fire at an opponent. That could be a potent plasma bolt, a medium laser, or heavy projectiles could be selected. These were large weapons, but in the grasp of a Thandol they didn’t seem so big. In addition, there were decorative red streamers on each trunk tip, and a red feathery cap with gold trim, worn over the dome of their large foreheads, which concealed its underlying armor plates. They had red armored articulated leg and knee pads on all four legs, and red blankets with gold trim were draped over their backs and hanging free, as low as their stomachs. It was a form of flexible medium armor, but it was more for ceremonial show than what they would wear if in an actual planned firefight. It had no stealth capability.

Hung below their thick necks, in front of their broad chests, was a flexible armored pouch holding two spare power packs for their weapons, and four projectile magazines. There was also a transparent shield affixed to the back of the pouch, which could be detached and raised in front of their large faces as protection, while they fired their rifles from around its sides. Their bulky large bodies, and exposed trunks and tentacles, were part of the reason they didn’t often engage in ground combat as infantry. They tended to rely on remote controlled drone tanks, mobile artillery, and aerial weapons platforms in that sort of combat.

The Emperor’s entourage started out in a double column, with half of the guard leading the Emperor and his aides, and half of them behind. They didn’t start stamping their broad flat feet, creating echoes that preceded them to the reviewing stand, until they were within hearing of the masses of Thandol assembled in the Great Square.

That thumping and repetitive sound was the trigger for the crowd to also stamp their feet in the same rhythm, and to issue soft trumpets of “Farlol,” as the first of the Palace guards divided to form a file on either side of the knee high wall of the third level reviewing stand. The cries of Farlol increased sharply as the Emperor, in his own dazzling uniform and draped red cape appeared. He went directly to the wall at the center, as the remaining Palace guards also split to either side to form a second rank, their feet still stamping. The large number of guards told everyone that the address tonight was of greater importance than they expected.

The chants of Farlol increased greatly, to a cacophony of sound and tramping footpads, waiting for the Emperor to lift his trunks to signal the end of the chants. He normally basked in the chants for a time, and he did so this time as well.

The noise echoed over the vast city for miles. The soft pop above a rooftop near the Emperor’s quarters went unnoticed. Soon, there was some soft swishing among plots of sugar spears, and where there were fresh plots of dark soil, with new tiny shoots of the golden grass recently planted by loving tentacles of devoted and aged gardeners. Some small inch deep holes appeared next to many of the shoots, and then were promptly covered over by unseen hands, as a small deposit was hidden under the rich soil, where the moistness would revive the tiny dried eggs, stirring them to release the thousands of tiny transparent worms. The nematode-like clear worms were all but invisible, unless placed under a microscope.

The undetected stealthed visitors used the same rooftops to return to their small stealthed craft, and as the sounds of trumpeting rose from the Great Square, at the end of a rousing Imperial speech, the Scout was hundreds of feet in the air, lifting slowly on its Normal Space drive, until reaching the edge of the upper atmosphere. There it Jumped for home, to await the reports of how the Emperor fared in the weeks following his public appearance.

The newly hatched microscopic worms found a rich source of natural sugars to enjoy in the grass roots, and thrived in the frequently watered rich soil. They bored their way into the roots of the grass, where they would live off only part of the plant juices of this grass, having evolved to avoid killing the host plants. The worms would mature in just over a day, the males fertilizing the females, which returned to the soil to leave their tiny eggs to hatch, repeating the cycle of life. When the grass was pulled up by the roots for consumption, the worms, and often eggs in the clinging soil, went along for the ride.

A Thandol, despite resembling a slightly smaller version of an Earthly elephant, had a digestive track that had more in common with cattle. Grasses required up to three days to pass through their multiple stomachs and digestive track. The tiny worms, after arriving with the grass, mostly survived mastication, and they took advantage of the three days of digestive time to hatch new worms, mature, breed, and lay eggs.

In the absence of soil, the worms burrowed in and laid their eggs in the porous soft intestinal linings and digestive track of a Thandol. There, the eggs were protected from future ingested cures for the infestation, and hatching worms repeatedly renewed the infection in newly eaten grass. Fecal matter from the worms, and the bodies of females that died in the intestinal walls after laying eggs, became increasingly toxic to a Thandol as the intestinal colony grew larger. The toxins caused a series of digestive problems, which would contribute to diarrhea, gas, and nausea. Despite feeling like vomiting often, the reduction of absorbed nutrients drove an infected Thandol to crave more food, which benefited the worms and supported their life cycle.

Worms bearing eggs not yet implanted in intestinal walls, would be expelled in fecal matter or vomit, where new colonies might form in other favorable locations, and infect new Thandol victims, and spread in their feed plots, or in many other suitable plant hosts. Symptoms of the infection were slow enough to develop, that the problem could spread extensively before the initial infected individual showed obvious signs of the intestinal parasites.

****

Maggi woke her husband early. They had arrived home late, by Koban time, from Wendal, satisfied they had done all they could to deter the Thandol from attacking the Federation immediately, and if they chose to continue anyway, delay them by severely damaging the fleet they were gathering for an attack, and had planted parasite eggs where the Emperor would consume them. They hoped he’d find himself preoccupied with a debilitating physical problem, and dodge public appearances for a couple of months, while they planted false rumors of a coup, to be circulated within his own court.

That worry could make him reluctant to assemble too concentrated a military force, if it might be turned on him by conspirators close to him.

The Federation hadn’t even approached the other two security forces yet, and Tet had allowed the beaten Ragnar forces to return home with their finest military leader, and had left most of their navy intact. The plans to foment simultaneous revolts among the security forces had yet to take shape.

Maggi had furnished false and damning files to the Hothor agent on Wendal, the Kitchen Assistant named Grifta Thop Raula. He was to use the Prada com set and a list of Thandol memcache addresses, linking secretly to a dozen low ranking Imperial Court and household members. His task was to place, in an incoming message folder, an unattributed and untraceable subversive solicitation, to join a budding Farlol family sponsored movement, to replace a “poorly performing” Farlol the 84th. It blamed him for poor decisions leading to two military loses, and negligence in appointing those who were responsible for salvaging the Crusher segments, which his previous failings had left vulnerable to destruction at Wendal itself.

She had left a message for Grifta to contact her, informing him of the parasites that had been planted, and asking him to advise her if he heard of, or saw indications in a week or two, of any health issues with the Emperor. All she expected was an acknowledgement of the parasite delivery message, and a confirmation that he’d sent her files to the selected Imperial Court attendants, and to two of the lowest ranking members of the Emperor’s Thandol household servants.

Coming instantly awake, Mirikami asked, “What? Did Grifta call already? You woke me early, so you learned something unexpected. What did he tell you?”

“That we should have infected Farlol a month before we attacked Rogue 2. Even before we dragged the Crusher segments out of orbit.”

“Really? How would he know that?”

“He didn’t, you dear twit. But what he told us means the same thing.”

With a barely patient sigh, the dear twit asked, “And what did he say?”

“That in the Emperor’s public address, on the very night we left his gastronomical belly bombs, he blamed us for the attack on Rogue 2.” She was about to say more, but Tet interrupted.

“Well, duh! Who else would they blame? Let me sleep.”

A thump on the top of his head as he sat in bed, argued against suggesting his wife was a bit slow in her deductions.

“Ow. He obviously said more, so tell me.”

“I would have, Captain Duh! Don’t interrupt your sweet wife.”

The sweet wife continued. “It’s the drastic action he called for, to answer what he said is the greatest threat the Empire has faced since its formation, which proves we should have made him too sick to make that rousing public speech. He has tossed that assumed Thandol cautious deliberation aside.

“He intends to send all three security forces against us simultaneously. To first crush the Federation’s naval forces, and then the Thandol navy will pound each of our worlds, one after another, into submission. Then he will permit the remnant populations of every world to swear allegiance to him, before joining the Empire as new subservient species. Or to die in agony under Debilitater rays if they continue to resist.”

“Hmm.” Tet pulled at his lip. “We wanted to delay them, but apparently we provoked them too much.”

Maggi looked at him askance. “You think? An old idiom comes to mind. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.”

*****************************************

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

HUMANS

Former crew from Flight of Fancy

Tetsuo Mirikami

Captain of captured Flight of Fancy. From Old Colony of New Honshu, in the Hub area. Became Commander of Prime City after Krall left Koban. Captain of the Mark of Koban, a captured Krall clanship. Leader of the Kobani.

Noreen Renaldo

Former First Officer of Flight of Fancy. From Old Colony of Ponce, in the Hub area. Married Dillon Martin. Mother of TGs Carson, Katelyn, and Cory. Captain of the Avenger, a stolen Krall clanship.

Jake (Artificial Intelligence)

An old model JK series AI computer, installed on Flight of Fancy. Able to operate many of the ship systems autonomously. Repository of vast human library of documents, books, films, Tri-Vid shows, etc. A common capability on long Jump passenger liners. Later, the software is cloned and named Jakob for reuse. The cloned software is eventually placed in a modern AI system aboard the Mark of Koban, Mirikami’s captured and converted Krall clanship.

(Chief) Mike Haveram

Was once Chief of the Drive Room on the Flight of Fancy. Now captain of the Falcon, a former smuggler’s ship purchased on Poldark. He helps supply Koban with goods and weapons from Human Space.

Macy Gundarfem

Former Motorfem on Flight of Fancy. One of the “Drive Rats.”

John Yin-Lee

Former Motorman on Flight of Fancy. One of the “Drive Rats.”

Andrew Johnson

Former Motorman on Flight of Fancy. One of the “Drive Rats.”

Nory Walters

Former Chief Steward on Flight of Fancy.

Mel Rigson

Former Steward and Medical technician on Flight of Fancy.

Cal Branson

Former Steward and Medical technician on Flight of Fancy.

Bob Campbell

Machinist Mate.

Neri Bar

Machinist Mate.

Chack Nauguza

Cargo Specialist, handy man.

Passengers from the Fancy, and various other ships, and early captives

Dillon Martin

Professor of biological sciences, sent to Midwife to study developing primitive life. Hidden specialty is forbidden genetics research. From Rhama, a New Colony, close to the Hub worlds. Married Noreen Renaldo. Father of TGs Carson, Katelyn, and Cory. Works on Kobani gene mods.

Maggi Fisher

Professor of biological sciences, Chairfem of Board of Director’s on Midwife project. From Rhama. Organizing unofficial teams to recover lost genetic knowledge. Later, first Mayor of Prime City. Works in Kobani gene mods. She marries (Signs the Line) with Captain Mirikami.

Aldry Anderfem

Professor of biological sciences, granddaughter of Claronce Anderson, a former President of Alders world. Supports secret Genetics research. Administered first human Clone mods in three hundred years, to make Second Generation Kobani. Helps design and implement Kobani mods.

Rafe Campbell

Studied human genetic mutations from cosmic rays on Brussels, a New Colony. Wife Isadora killed on ship by a Krall, “exercising.” Dove into Koban genetic studies when given a chance to make humans physically superior to the Krall. Chief designer of Kobani gene mods.

Stewart MacDougal

Former Hub City resident, initially resisted gene mods, then changed position. Moved to Haven, entered politics and became the first Galactic Federation president, and accepted full Kobani mods.

Other Captives (at Koban Prime, later renamed Prime City)

Thaddeus Greeves

Former Colonel of a Diplomatic Security detail for Poldark Ambassador. Married Marlyn Rodriguez. Father of TGs Ethan, Bradley, and Danner.

Marlyn Rodriguez

First Officer of Rimmer’s Dream, arrived in mass capture of human ships. Married Thad Greeves. Mother of TGs Ethan, Bradley, and Danner. Captain of the Beagle, a stolen Krall clanship. Killed in raid at K1.

Second Generation Kobani

Carson Martin

Parents Noreen and Dillon, born an SG, received Koban gene mods to become Third Generation Kobani. Marries Alyson Formby.

Ethan Greeves

Parents Marlyn and Thad, born an SG, received Koban gene mods to become Third Generation Kobani.

Alyson Formby

Born in Hub City as an SG. At eighteen, left home to request Koban mods, against her parent’s wishes. Became first TG from Hub City, then first to be a TG1 from there. Married Carson Martin.

Jorl Breaker

Fred Saber

Bill Saber (Killed on Meglor Dock raid in Thandol Empire)

Their parents were all early Koban captives. At sixteen, they became TGs.

HUMAN SPACE

Garland (Sarge) Reynolds

Sergeant in the PU Army on Poldark. Captured by the Krall, and in a fluke of circumstance is taken to Koban by his captors, and is there rescued by the Kobani, twenty years into the war with the Krall. His arrival and rescue, and capturing a clanship, is the key event for the Kobani to travel back to Human Space.

Henry Nabarone

A Major General of the Planetary Union Army, in charge of Poldark’s defense. Formerly in a local militia unit, and second in command after Colonel Thaddeus Greeves of that same unit. He becomes a Kobani.

Joseph Longstreet

Captain of a platoon of spec ops troops, expanded to absorb remnants of units suffering losses from missions behind Krall lines on Poldark. Becomes a Kobani.

Golda Mauss

Admiral that commanded first two PU naval raids on K1, participated in a third as ship captain and advisor. Becomes a Kobani.

Marlene Strickland

PU politician in the LOR party, becomes PU president, is pro-Federation, and supportive of the Kobani gene mods.

Adriana Bledso

Former Naval Chief of Staff. Becomes Chairfem of Joint Chiefs of Staff of Planetary Union military. Retired and entered politics. Becomes PU Vice President, is pro-Federation and supports gene mods.

Heavyside

A Rim world planet, not considered suitable for mass human colonization. Located on the anti-spinward side of human exploration, on the far side of Human Space from the Krall invasion. It has 1.41 times Earth’s gravity. Heavyside was home of the Special Operations training program. Site of a second gene lab for converting selected spec ops candidates into Kobani.

KRALL

Tor Gatrol Telour

Originally a Krall translator, of Graka Clan. Second in command of Newborn Raid that capture the Flight of Mancy and Mirikami, her captain. Became second in command of Krall, with the title/rank of Til Gatrol. Became Tor after arranging previous Tor’s murder. Personally captured by Mirikami, and taken to Earth for trial for genocide. When anti-Kobani PU president wanted to arrest Mirikami for her bias against gene mods, a diversion was created by Mirikami issuing a Death Match to Telour. The Krall reader died a grizzly death in front of media cameras, proving the Kobani claim that gene mods made them physically capable of defeating the Krall.

KRALL’TAPI

Called the “soft Krall” by the now genetically distinct Krall. The Krall’tapi are what the Krall were twenty-five thousand years ago, when they allowed the Olt’kitapi to modify a gene that made Krall super aggressive and war-like, creating a people less uncontrollably violent, and ready to work with the Olt’kitapi. After the warrior Krall revolted against the ancient race, the Krall’tapi were held captive by the self-evolving Krall for many thousands of years. Only the soft Krall could command the ancient Olt’kitapi mining ships that could break apart worlds. Freed by the Kobani, they have joined the Federation as its newest citizens.

OTHER ALIEN RACES

Olt’kitapi

Highly advanced and ancient people, determined pacifists, who first discovered the Krall. Mentored the violent race, hoping to make them more peaceful, but were betrayed and destroyed by the Krall about 22,000 years ago. Believed to have been exterminated, survivors were found hiding in Empire territory, under the protection of the Hothor, a sloth-like subservient species of the Thandol overlords.

The race of gentle mantis-like large insects, were a slow expanding space traveling species for over a hundred thousand years, with brilliant mathematical minds. Their compound eyes contributed to their mental ability to perceive geometries and patterns that extended into alternate spaces, such as Tachyon Space, which at points impinge upon what humans call the Normal Space of our Universe. Many space faring species discovered the mathematics of reaching into Tachyon Space for the energy required to produce event horizons, and rotating into that adjacent Universe to achieve faster than light travel. The Olt’kitapi learned to do it more efficiently, and deduced the higher dimensions in that space, equivalent to the four dimensions of Normal Space, which yield shorter travel times.

Their life cycle begins with an egg, hatching into a caterpillar state of multiple colors, depending on its gender. The larval stage is also intelligent, and at the discretion of the individual can last from two to ten “orbits,” or years in human terms. It must select which adult body form it wishes for its future, a maker, a builder, or hybrid, and adjust its diet to achieve the intended result. The Makers are the more intellectual and theoretical thinkers, their scientists and philosophers, who produce ideas and new theories. The Builders are those that engineer, build, and actualize the ideas, and what theory shows is possible.

After a pupa stage, the final body style emerges, resembling a walking stick-like creature with a triangular mantis shaped head, and a two segmented body with six limbs. They grow larger over many orbits via molting, to become an adult maker, builder, or combination of types. The inherited hormones of their gender determine adult coloration rather than body style. Females, which have names that traditionally end with a “la” sound, and male names that end with “da,” have obvious differences in shadings and colors. Females are brightly colored with a high sheen, with colors such as shades of purple, blue, orange and reds. The drabber males displayed shades of dull greens, tans, browns, and some had mottled black markings or splotches. The heights of the insects varied, with maker forms of either gender being taller, and builder forms shorter in length, holding more of their torso horizontal as they moved.

Gith Prola and Gith Frithda

A mated Olt’kitapi pair, the female being a maker form, chosen with her builder form mate as representatives for their species, acting as intermediaries with other races. Gith is their chosen mating name to denote their connection.

Prola is a light purple shade, her overall length being roughly six feet, and her thick lower abdomen is partly held horizontally, before curving up sharply to her thorax. Her face is five feet above ground, with four legs supporting the lower abdomen two feet off the ground. The flat sections of the angular legs have a considerably sturdier appearance than the spindly stick like legs of a scaled up insect. The back feet are two-toed pads, but the middle limb’s feet resembled a cross between feet and hands, with a grasping capability. The triple jointed front upper limbs were held high, hands together, but were distinctly not made for grasping prey, and were articulated much like a human’s arms. There were six finger-like appendages for hands, of three to six inch lengths, and had several joints on each digit, making them very flexible.

Frithda was at least a foot shorter in length, mostly light green, with shades of brown on his lower abdomen. He normally poses more horizontal than his mate, although his middle limbs also have basic grasping hands. His front limbs are noticeably sturdier than his mate’s, and his hands have thicker stronger fingers and look less flexible. His head shares the same triangular shape and compound eyes, with two shorter brown colored antennae.

Raspani

A spacefaring, once highly intelligent and peaceful race, with about a dozen colonized worlds. They were a client race of the Olt’kitapi, advancing under their guidance. After their defeat by the Krall, they became semi-intelligent because the Krall bred and used them as meat animals. They were raised in herds on many of the Krall worlds. The grey creatures, paler on the stomach than on the back, looked somewhat like a pigmy hippopotamus from Earth. They are nearly three feet high at mid back, and five feet long in the lower torso. The upper part of their torso is vaguely centaur-like, which when held upright places their heads five feet above ground.

They have a pudgy pair of human-like jointed arms and dexterous looking hands. When grazing, they pluck tender grass shoots and fern leaves with their hands. They also eat fruits and berries if they can find them. They have the masticating side teeth of most herbivores, but sport two residual tusks, jutting up from the lower front jaw. These protruded three or four inches above fleshy lips, and have facial features arranged much like on a human. They have a central flat nose above their lips, with two large nostrils, and large, forward-facing brown eyes under light brown furred brows. The head was smooth, rounded, and hairless, but there was some sparse brown hair growing along their upper and lower backs.

Blue Flower Eater

A Raspani spokesperson’s mind, encoded on a modified quantum storage device along with millions of other Raspani minds, who sought protection from Krall atrocities on their species.

Prada

Bipedal, forest and jungle living, eats fruit, nuts, insects, and small game. The creatures are black or brown, with white markings. Resemble a lemur or monkey-like mammal, with a useful prehensile tail. About the size of an Earth Chimpanzee, they can use their five fingered hands (with longer middle finger for digging out grubs) and long toes almost equally well. They retain some arboreal ability. The Prada have large yellow eyes, and they were originally nocturnal animals. They were the Krall’s main assemblers and builders.

Their society took roughly seventeen thousand Earth years to colonize a volume some three thousand light years in radius. They selected moderate gravity worlds of 0.7 to 0.8 g’s, and preferred dimmer redder stars than Sol. They befriended other races, unless such contact was rejected. Engaged in cooperation and trade with the Olt’kitapi.

They are a long-lived species who place their eldest members in charge. This deferment to the elders is why they originally cooperated with the Olt’kitapi, the oldest intelligent species they knew. After the Olt’kitapi were all killed by the Krall, the next oldest species they knew was the Krall. They became loyal and submissive to them, and lost their original language, so speak only “low” Krall. They are the largest group of slaves and can build most things the Krall want for war, or have copied from other races.

Wister

A male Prada elder, roughly one thousand three hundred years old, found in a tree village on the planet next to Koban, left there by the Krall when they departed the system.

Nawella

A female Prada elder, and sister of Wister. She is a bit older than her brother is and he seeks her advice. Together they manage a small village of their people, who preserve an underground factory complex where anything required by the Krall can be built.

Torki

A highly intelligent eight-foot-wide by five-foot-long, and three-foot-high land crab race with one large defensive pincher and a smaller one for grasping, and a hard deep purple shell with eight amber colored legs. The two in front of their mouths are small and used as dexterous manipulators. Their eyes are on two-foot stalks, and they perform fine assembly of tools and electronics for the Krall, copying from plans taken from other defeated races.

They had been star traveling for eleven thousand years when the Krall over ran them. Preferred worlds with ample seashores, and bypassed most worlds inside their six hundred light year sphere. They built giant ships for their large bodies, and simulated seaside environments for their own comfort. Huge ships carried only a few hundred Torki, but when used by the Krall they had room for ten thousand warriors, or even more Prada. Several thousand Torki could fit, with great discomfort.

As adults, these land crabs are terrestrial and are found as far as ten miles from the shoreline, returning to the sea only to soak or breed. They sleep at night in cool burrows several feet deep, or at least to a level that will allow water to seep in for moisture. They are primarily vegetarians, preferring tender leaves, fruits, berries, flowers, seaweed, and some vegetables. Occasionally they will eat fish, beetles, or other large insects.

Like all crabs, they shed their shells as they grow. If they have lost legs or claws during their present growth cycle, a new one will be present after they molt. If the large claw is lost, males will develop one on the opposite side until their next molt. Newly molted crabs are very vulnerable because of their soft shells. They are reclusive and hide until the new shell hardens.

Coldar

An influential Torki in his lodge, left behind on the world next to Koban when the Krall departed. The crabs can communicate electronically by a quantum storage device they were given prior to becoming sentient, by the Olt’kitapi. As they advanced, the locked libraries in the storage devices open to help them access new knowledge and databases. They know of the ancient race, but they never met their benefactors. They build new storage devices as their population expands, and copy the data they have into them, not knowing what new information they may contain.

Hothor

A space traveling but subservient species in the Thandol Empire. They vaguely resemble upright sloths, and stand between five and five and a half feet tall as adults. They don’t move slow or sloth-like, and have a quick and nervous seeming quality when they move.

There is gray and white fur down their backs, thick looking hair of a few inches in length, thinning at the sides and on their upper limbs, and nearly gone on the front. Their arms are nearly hairless below their elbows, and the bare skin of the arms and hands are almost black, with only short fine and sparse gray hair there.

They have a round head with short hair on the top and sides on a long neck, the skull being slightly smaller than a human’s, with a circular, nearly flat and hairless face, with a small pointed muzzle and fine little teeth. Their wide set small eyes are dark, in a face that was is black as the skin of their arms. There are two slits between their eyes that served as nostrils, rather than being placed at the end of their small muzzle.

They cooperate with the Federation, in an effort to undermine Thandol rule. On their second colony world, the only free and surviving members of the Olt’kitapi reside hidden in a forest under a false canopy, their existence a Hothor secret from the Empire.

Ragnar

An ape-like species within the Thandol Empire. A former aggressive opponent of the Thandol, but defeated and made subservient by their higher technology enemy. Their combat ability and natural aggression was exploited, and they were made a security force for the Empire, with only limited naval and ground forces permitted, to keep them from attempting a revolt against the Thandol. They enforce the Emperor’s will on other species in one of the three sectors of the Empire, collecting and sharing in taxes, punishing disobedience, and participating in annexation of new species when encountered. They were tasked with conquering the Federation after the Krall threat was eliminated by the Kobani.

Gimtal Thond

The Force Commander of the Ragnar led Annexation Campaign of the Galactic Federation stars, on behalf of the Thandol Empire.

Thandol

They resemble amber colored smaller sized elephants, standing on four legs, with two very strong and flexible trunks below their mouths, paired with two manipulator tentacles on the front of their faces above their mouths. The upper two manipulators, about half the diameter and length of the trunks, are true tentacles, with small gripping suckers on the undersides. The ends of the tentacles became very slender, almost tendrils, clearly capable of fine manipulation. They’re strictly vegetarian, have no tusks, and are almost seven feet high at the front shoulder.

Their walking pace was similar to an elephant’s, two or three feet normally touching the ground at a time. With a smaller body mass, and adapted for lower gravity worlds, a Thandol could actually run, getting all four feet off the ground in a full out gallop.

Thandol evolved from herd animals, have a tremendous ego, with males driven to dominate their herds. That is why they formed an Empire, with a single Imperial Herb master Emperor over them all. Emperors are periodically overthrown and replaced, with little effect on their control over the species they dominate.

They are a naturally aggressive species, and it was their accidental discovery of higher level Tachyon Space rotations that gave them the edge in expansion, and the ability to defeat the only three aggressive species they encountered, of the twenty-six they have defeated and annexed into their slowly growing Empire. The Ragnar, Finth, and Thack Delos became their security forces in three sectors, but not permitted to have combined force close to what the Thandol maintained.

They were envious and fearful of the Olt’kitapi when they met them, but the “bugs” were so advanced the Thandol feared attacking the passive seeming species. They became concerned when the insects followed their own example, and armed a savage barbarian species to be heir protectors from the Empire. The Thandol pulled farther away from them as a result, and their caution was rewarded when the Krall revolted and killed the Olt’kitapi.

So long as the wild hordes of rapid breeding Krall clans ran rampant, they stayed silent and isolated from the Orion Spur, where the Olt’kitapi had lived. After drone scouts reported the Krall had been defeated, via a trick by an enemy that disarmed them, the Thandol renewed their interest in annexing that region of space, now part of the newly formed Galactic Federation.

About the Author:

I was born in 1942, so I'm an autumn rather than a spring chicken. I live outside of Tampa, Florida with my fabulous wife Anita, and one remaining son sort-of at home, Montana. I have three older boys, Mark, Gary, and Anthony, all of whom have married and presented us with terrific grandchildren.

My early reading interests were arguably all sci-fi related, from Doctor Doolittle, Captain Marvel, to Superman. I then transitioned to "real" science fiction on black and white TV, such as Captain Video and Flash Gordon. I read hundreds of books by the science fiction greats growing up, and thousands of fair to not so greats in dual novel paperbacks and magazines. I’ve had a lifelong love of science and science fiction.

My education gravitated to science, starting out as a physics major and my depression era folks told me I'd never make a living as a theoretical physicist (probably right, and Cosmology wasn't a career field then), so I moved to Electronics Engineering. I did most of that in the aerospace field for MacDonnell Douglas Corp, in St. Louis, Mo. I worked on the F4 Phantom project, and briefly on Manned Orbiting Laboratory (MOL), before the fickle fates of government finance forced contract cancelations. I devoted (meaning I was drafted into) two years' service for the US Army from 1965 to 1967. A great two years, and the Army, caring not the least about my electronics background, offered this draftee a job as an Air Traffic Controller. Cool!

After discharge I spent a short time back at MacDonnell Douglas before the contract reductions laid me off, and was hired by Emerson Electric (1968), working on the design of a neat heads-up fire control system for the Army's new Cheyenne Helicopter (to be a 270-knot hybrid fixed wing/rotor craft). Never heard of it? The fickle fates of Army finance were why this time, plus Lockheed didn't keep the airframe part from crashing and burning at a crucial point in development.

I taught Electronics for about eighteen months (near starvation wages after the high pay), and finally decided to try my hand at actually supporting my family again. I hired on with the Federal Aviation Administration as an Air Traffic Controller in 1970. Thanks Army! In 1979, I changed jobs in the FAA to use my technical background to work on writing features for the software of the FAA's Terminal Automation Systems (for 28 years, with some controller time overlap). I spent exactly forty years (to the day) in federal service.

Retired, I now work as a consultant/contractor for the FAA, supporting a software system I helped to create. In anticipation of more free time while retired (wrong!), I finally decided to try my hand at writing what I love to read for escapism, Science Fiction.

Thanks for reading my books,

Steve Bennett

Published Books

Koban (August, 2012)

Koban: The Mark of Koban (February, 2013)

Koban: The Rise of the Kobani (October, 2013)

Koban Universe 1 (March, 2014)

Koban: Shattered Worlds (October 2014)

Koban: A Federation Forged in Fire (2015)

Koban: Conflict and Empire (2016)

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The End

Attention reader: This concludes our regularly scheduled broadcast at this time.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the story. More to come in Book 7. Thanks.