> Now every woman and every man
> They want to take a righteous stand
> Find the love that God wills
> And the faith that He commands
> I've got my finger on the trigger
> And tonight faith just ain't enough
> When I look inside my heart
> There's just devils and dust
>
> I've got God on my side
> And I'm just trying to survive
> What if what you do to survive
> Kills the things you love?
> Fear's a dangerous thing
> It can turn your heart black you can trust
> It'll take your God filled soul
> Fill it with devils and dust
Bruce Springsteen - “Devils & Dust”
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Over the Ronin world Σ10, it was the destroyer Typhon that had drawn picket duty. Like almost every other system they were undermanned, but at least it had been quiet duty. There had been no attempts to run the blockade, and despite a fair amount of grumbling from the inhabitants there had been no instances of violence. The crew of Typhon thanked their lucky stars and maintained a close watch.
That all changed when the Xairac system fell. A Flash Alert was sent to every ship in the fleet, with special priority given to those vessels enforcing the quarantine. Typhon’s captain put the crew on round-the-clock watches, determined not to be surprised should the worst happen. She knew she couldn’t keep it up forever, but if they could just make it through the initial blitz, they might just have a chance.
It was a half-finished battlecruiser that arrived in the system, plowing its way through the void and soaking up the antimatter rounds hurled at it by the desperate crew of Typhon. It was little more than a floating debris field by the time it entered Σ10’s atmosphere...but the damage was already done. The Ronin that had survived the battle boarded the destroyer and tore through the crew like a particle beam, sending the ravaged ship hurtling towards the planet.
Σ10 went dark 15 hours later...and the final images from the planet before the last bastion fell to the infected was the stuff of nightmares.
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“Dhyaksh...sensors are reporting incoming vessels,” Harbinger’s tactical officer informed him. The look on his face told him the rest, though he dutifully finished the dispatch. “Sir...it is the enemy.”
Jiyazh Ghuuyaz nodded. The news, while unwelcome, was not unexpected. “Status of the freighters and time until the enemy arrives at Zhis?” he asked.
His officer checked his display. “Boarding of the refugees is...91% complete,” he said at last. “The enemy will be within weapons range in less than an hour.”
The Dhyaksh tried not to wince at the news...and failed. So close, they had been so close! “Understood,” he answered. “Inform the freighters they are to break orbit, while the rest of the fleet will take position to buy them time.”
And with that, Jiyazh mused, I have ordered their deaths. Still, they were Khonhim. They all knew what was at stake, and a chance to die in battle, protecting their young, was an act worthy of song.
Assuming anyone survived to tell the tale.
“At once, Dhyaksh!” the officer replied, as he passed the orders. The freighters began to move, and he tried not to think of those he was abandoning. But if those lumbering ships did not depart immediately, then no one would escape, and that was unacceptable. It was a war, and in war, sacrifices must be made.
Strange how little comfort that brought him, when it was children being sacrificed.
The fleet moved to interpose itself between the enemy and the escaping ships. They would do all they could to slow down the Ronin Masters, but given their experiences, at Gzuj he held out little hope. If they opted for a fighting withdrawal while covering the freighters, some of his fleet would survive. Perhaps one ship in ten.
So be it.
“Those ships with the most damage are to cover the freighters and retreat with them as they depart the system,” Jiyazh ordered, “while the rest of the fleet will form up here,” he instructed, highlighting a set of coordinates on the display. “We will interlock our fields of fire and present an impenetrable wall to the enemy.”
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His tactical officer smiled. “They shall regret coming to Zhis, Dhyaksh,” he said with a formal bow, as once again his directives were passed to the other ships. The fleet split into two; the defenders, and the refugees. He could only imagine how the crews of those vessels escaping must feel, gnashing their teeth in frustration while being ordered to run like cowards. But they could no longer afford to act like Clan Chiefs and Warlords, not if the Khonhim were to survive as a race. It had been a bitter, painful lesson to learn...but he had taken it to heart.
Jiyazh Ghuuyaz watched as the enemy ships drew closer. There would be no delaying his fire here, as the Masters would soon render his task force down into scattered fragments. Every unfired missile would simply be added to the debris field. He waited as long as he dared, and then raised his hand, preparing to give the order.
“...Dhyaksh!” his tactical officer shouted, “new vessels are entering the system!” Jiyazh spun to look at the display, as the icons on the monitor turned from Unidentified Yellow...to Friendly Green.
“It is the Earth Force fleet,” he said, as the grizzled Khonhim warrior shook his head. The timing was fortuitous. “Hail the commander,” he ordered.
Moments later, a human female appeared on the screen. “Dhyaksh Ghuuyaz, I’m Admiral Otxoa, aboard the battleship Buenos Aires. I understand you're having trouble with some uninvited guests.”
Despite everything, he couldn’t help but chuckle. One had to admire the human’s wit in the face of overwhelming odds. “We are, Admiral,” he nodded in acknowledgment. “If you would do us the honor of shepherding our children and damaged vessels to safety, the rest of my forces will buy time for your escape.”
“Uh-huh,” she replied, “somehow, I had a feeling you might say that.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m sure you’re telling yourself today’s a ‘Good Day to Die’, and all, but here’s a thought...why don’t we see if maybe tomorrow might be better?”
Jiyazh blinked. “I do not understand.”
The human Admiral snorted. “Then I’ll make it simple. Get your pig-headed ass out of there. With the ships under my command, we have more than enough between us to keep the enemy off our backs, while we cover the freighters. So you can either stay there and die or come with me and live.”
His nostrils flared with barely controlled anger. “Honor is not so easily dismissed, Admiral,” he growled. “Zhis is our world, and we will defend it to the last.”
“And die doing so,” she fired back. “Answer me one question, Dhyaksh Ghuuyaz...when it comes to a choice between honor, and victory...which is more important?”
He readied an indignant retort to hurl back at her...when honesty forced him to reconsider. It was a question he had asked himself often enough these last few decades. The ready answer was that victory without honor was no victory at all, but as he considered her words he discovered it was not quite that simple. She was not suggesting that he surrender Zhis to the enemy, for it was an inescapable truth the Masters would take the planet no matter what he did, even if the human fleet joined him in battle. They might delay the inevitable...but they could not stop it.
And if they could not prevent the enemy from taking this system, did he not owe it to those that served him to preserve their lives if he could? To give them a chance to strike a damaging blow?
When he framed the question in that context...the answer became clear. Despite how it cut across every tradition and belief of his people, the human’s argument could not be denied.
“...very well,” he said at last, “though many of my officers will be difficult to convince.”
“You’re the Dhyaksh, aren’t you?” she smirked. “Tell them if they have a problem with it, they can challenge your authority...though to do that, they must follow you out of the system.” She chuckled before her eyes grew hard. “Or you could simply order the First officer to shoot the Captain in the head.”
Jiyazh raised an eyebrow at that. “An unusual sentiment, from a human.”
“Not really,” she said after a moment. “By any chance...do you recognize the name of my flagship?”
He blinked in confusion at the sudden change of topic. A quick glance at the monitor reminded him of the strange human name, Buenos Aires, though for some odd reason it struck a familiar chord. He had seen an Intelligence report on that class of ship, the latest and most powerful vessels Earth Force possessed. They named them for…
...everything came into sudden focus, as the name registered. The Buenos Aires-Class of ships, sixteen vessels in all...each named for a city obliterated by the Khonhim, in the last war.
“I see,” he said quietly. “I take it then, that you and the Governor-General are of a similar mind?” Chikkij Kowzhach had apprised him of the human leader’s words...and the underlying emotions she had perceived from him.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m here to do a job, and I’ll carry out my orders...regardless of whatever feelings I may have regarding them.” She let those words hang between them for a moment, before continuing. “But despite any personal opinions about the Khonhim, even I recognize we’re all in this together. The Masters want all of us dead...so if I have to make a deal with El Diablo to protect my home, then I’ll damn well do it.”
Jiyazh nodded in understanding. “Very well, Admiral...it shall be as you say. We will withdraw...and live to fight another day.”
“Good,” she replied. “And once we’re clear, I invite you to come aboard my ship. There’s a little plan we’ve been working on I’d like to show you...though I doubt you will much care for it.”
“...does it hurt the Masters?” he asked.
“It does,” she nodded, “...at a price.”
The Dhyaksh took a deep breath. “The Khonhim know all about paying the blood price, Admiral. I look forward to reviewing your plan.”
A thin smile appeared on her face. “Then when you arrive...I’ll read you in on Operation Bankshot.”