> Empty spaces, what are we living for?
> Abandoned places, I guess we know the score
> On and on, does anybody know what we are looking for?
> Another hero, another mindless crime
> Behind the curtain, in the pantomime
> Hold the line, does anybody want to take it anymore?
> The show must go on
Queen - “The Show Must Go On”
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Admiral Fujimoto watched the displays as the fleet entered ϒ12’s system, though she already had a suspicion what they were likely to find. Her technicians were hard at work scanning for any signs of the Khonhim fleet, as they girded their loins to battle once again.
Just not today.
“Admiral, there’s no sign of the Khonhim fleet, apart from some wreckage in orbit over ϒ12,” her tactical officer reported. “The planetary shield is still down, just as Major Parisi reported in her distress call.”
“Any signals from the Major?” Hélène asked.
The officer checked his board and shook his head. “No Ma’am...nothing.” He froze as a message appeared on his screen. “Admiral, I am getting a signal from the surface, but it doesn’t carry the Major’s ID. Text only...and it must be in code.” He shook his head, trying to make sense of what he was reading.
“What’s the message say?” Fujimoto asked.
“It says...er…‘We got your cheeseburger. You want fries with that?’” He looked up her in confusion. “...Ma’am? Is it possible it got garbled somehow during transmission?”
Admiral Fujimoto sighed, shaking her head. She didn’t know where Antuma had dug up his merry band of lunatics, but they got results. “Send a reply. Tell them...we’ll take that burger to go.”
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“Minister Singh, I believe we should reconsider our position regarding opening negotiations with the Khonhim,” Lassoarth said. “After the attacks on Uzaunx and ϒ12, our people have grown even more agitated, despite your efforts to calm their fears. We have received communiqués from every world in the Triumvirate, begging us to end this war any way we can.”
Leandra shook her head. “Not yet, Minister. It’s too soon. Any attempts at negotiations now will only be seen as a sign of weakness by the Khonhim. Until we can secure a victory...a real victory, not just something we’re spinning for our citizens...the Khonhim will see it as a sign that we’re faltering. They’ll redouble their efforts, and then we’ll be in real trouble.”
“We are in real trouble now, Minister,” Qomzoixaa argued. “Millions of our citizens are dead, and the rest are terrified they will be next! If you cannot defeat the enemy, then we must secure an end to this war, by any means necessary.”
“We will defeat the Khonhim,” Singh shot back, “but I warned you from the start it wouldn’t be resolved overnight. You need to accept the possibility this war could drag on for years before it’s over.”
“Years?” Σ 121 Sub Δ said in horror. “How can you expect us to let our citizens die by the billions, and do nothing? You expect too much from us, especially since it is not your worlds being attacked. You do not understand what it is we are suffering!”
Leandra leaned back in her chair, eyeing the Ronin Minister. “I’ll give you a moment to think about that statement, Σ 121 Sub Δ...before I explain what an ass you’re making of yourself.” The machine said nothing in reply, though whether it was in sullen refusal or guilt she was unsure. She shook her head in disgust, as she eyed the three of them.
“So, we humans know nothing about fear,” she said. “Let me tell you something, we’ve been afraid even before we were human. You call us ‘Predators’? You should see a real predator sometime, the kind we have on Earth. Like the Kodiak Grizzly Bear, for example, 600kg of claws, teeth, and pure meanness. Or the Black Mamba, whose venom is so poisonous it can kill a human in less than an hour. Or maybe the Jaguar, who will stalk you for kilometers...and you’ll never know it’s there until it pounces.”
She smiled as Lassoarth and Qomzoixaa looked ill from her descriptions. “But the most dangerous creature known to Man is Man himself. We’ve been killing each other off in job lots ever since the first ape picked up a rock. They terrified us when the Mongol hordes came sweeping down from the steppes, slaughtering everything in their path. We ran in panic from the Blitzkrieg, and watched the skies in mind-numbing despair as we waited for the missiles to turn our cities into ash.” Her eyes went from one Minister to another, as they wilted from her gaze. “Trust me, we know all about fear and the lesson we learned I now pass on to you. You can either conquer your fear...or it will conquer you.”
“That is easy for you to say,” Σ 121 Sub Δ countered, “for by your own admission you are a violent race, from a violent world...but we are not. For millennia we have lived in peace and harmony, and you expect us to change who we are in an instant? Your wishes are unrealistic, and perhaps it is time for us to reconsider the agreement we made with you when this war began.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Leandra couldn’t help herself. She started laughing when the Ronin threw down his gauntlet. “Oh, now there’s a plan,” she snickered. “And what exactly do you think you’d accomplish, without our help?”
“You promised us victory, Minister...and yet we have only suffered defeat,” Qomzoixaa countered. “Why should we continue allowing Earth to dictate policy if you do not win.”
“Because we’re the only hope you’ve got, Minister,” she snarled. “You think you can defeat the Khonhim all by yourselves? Then go right ahead. Do it. If we humans are such a hindrance, then say so now, and we will get out of your way.”
“We all acknowledge your species ability to fight,” Lassoarth said, “but we question your fitness to lead. As you have stated in the past, our populations number in the trillions...far more than your race. You would do well to remember that...and remember that the bulk of the soldiers now engaged in battle belong to us.”
The temperature in the room dropped several degrees as Leandra rose to her feet. “Do you think we were foolish enough not to have planned for this?” she hissed at them. “You think we didn’t install fail-safes in every weapon and ship we designed if you tried to turn them against us? And as for your soldiers, just who do you think they will follow...the cowards hiding in fear, or the ones who taught them to fight?” Her eyes blazed with fury as she stared them down. “And what do you think the Khonhim will do, if you plunge our species into civil war? I’ll tell you exactly what they’ll do...gobble you up one by one, while you’re fighting us.”
She shook her head, disgusted by their arrogant stupidity. “We could have crushed you anytime we wanted...but we didn’t. Because it wasn’t in anyone’s best interest, yours or ours. But I’m warning you, do not push us...or you’ll see first-hand just how dangerous humans are.” A dark smile crossed her face as she reached inside her robe and withdrew a sleek pistol, small enough to fit in her hand, and yet just as deadly as a weapon twice its size. “I’ve been carrying this for a long time now...and you never once thought to check, did you? Makes you wonder what other surprises we have in store, doesn’t it?”
The Ministers stared at the pistol in horrified fascination, and at the viper in their midst. “We stay the course,” Leandra said quietly, as she slipped the weapon back inside her clothing, “because any other choice will end badly for all involved.”
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Raichret scanned the training field until she spotted Nassat leading his platoon in a series of drills. She approached, not wishing to disturb him, but as the others in his group noticed her drawing near he turned and smiled, calling a halt to the training.
“Nassat, Sergeant Lin is asking for you,” she said quietly, “and there are others with him. Senior officers,” she said in concerned tones.
Nassat nodded, and turned back to the group, pointing at the next senior squad leader. “Continue the drills, until I return,” he told him, before going to Raichret’s side. “Then we should not keep them waiting,” he said, as they began making their way back to the Medical tent.
The young Healer hugged herself as they walked. “Nassat...why do they wish to speak to you?” she wondered aloud. “Do you think it means we will leave Uzaunx?”
“I do not know,” Nassat admitted, as they entered the tent, “but do not be afraid. Whatever happens, I will protect you.” Ever since the discovery of her family’s fate, the Acolyte-turned-Corporal had become her rock, the one thing that helped maintain her grip on reason, and the two of them had grown closer because of it. The thought of losing him now terrified her.
As they approached Lin’s bed, Nassat’s eyes widened at the group speaking to the sergeant. Senior officers indeed...including a human clutching a polished wooden baton. He came to a halt and snapped to attention, “Corporal Nassat reporting as ordered, Sir!”
“At ease, Corporal,” Marshal Antuma said with a gentle smile, before turning to Lin. “This is the one?” he asked.
“Yes Sir,” Lin replied, sitting up in his bed, as he gave Nassat an unreadable look.
Nassat stared straight ahead, unsure of what to make of this, but convinced it could be nothing good.
“Corporal Nassat...Sergeant Lin has told me a great deal about you,” Antuma said. “In fact...he has recommended you to take over Bravo Company while he recuperates.”
Nassat blinked in surprise. “Sir...I am unqualified for such a position,” he stammered.
“Nassat, you’ve got the three things a good leader needs,” Lin said with a twinkle in his eye, “…brains, heart, and guts.”
His confusion was growing by leaps and bounds. “Sergeant...how does possessing internal organs make me qualified?”
The humans broke out into laughter. “I guess some things just don’t translate well,” Marshal Antuma chuckled. “What the sergeant is saying is that you possess intelligence, courage, and fortitude...all excellent qualities for a leader.” Nassat’s eyes widened at the unexpected praise, even though he felt unworthy of it.
“He has also recommended you for this,” Antuma continued, pulling out a small flat box. “Sergeant Nassat, for single-handedly taking out an enemy weapons platform, for your steadfastness under incredible odds, and for rescuing your commander at great personal cost to yourself, you are awarded the Cœur de Lion,” he said in somber tones, as he removed a golden medallion attached to a ribbon, and slipped it over his head.
Raichret beamed at him, as he found himself at a loss for words. “...thank you, Sir,” he said, “but I do not deserve such an honor.”
Lin just chuckled. “I warned you, Sir,” he grinned.
“So you did,” Antuma smiled, before turning his attention back to Nassat. “Sergeant, despite the citation, we don’t hand out promotions and medals for what you’ve done...we award them for what we think you’re capable of in the future.” The smile disappeared, as he said, “We need you to rebuild Bravo company...and get them ready for the next battle.”
...I should have known, Nassat realized, as he closed his eyes and bowed his head. “I will do my best,” he whispered...already dreading what was to come.