Our full assault was repulsed by sheer weight before the Cats counterattacked, as though they were waiting for their heavies to appear. Though the Herrat had tier two technology, they preferred to fight with sword and magic, much to my and Ivanka’s surprise.
/Our vanguard has been thwarted by teleporting swordsmen of high level. Forty two plus on levels and they are basically elites. Fall back and plant explosives. FALL BACK!/
At that exact moment, more cats stormed out of the crystal factory half a mile away and we knew we were fucked. The bastards were cutting their young on the teeth of our rudimentary tactics before sending their true assault force our way. We could use some Pennergy right about now.
/Transports, this is Volkov, use shipboard weapons to make an LZ and accept fleeing troops. Kursk and Voronezh, defend our extraction as you gain position. Sappers, level the building by any means./
“Vice Commander, we still have people inside.”
“Execute your orders, comrade. 5 minutes to detonation, 7 to evacuate. Get there or get dead.” English aphorisms are hard for me, but I’m sure I was correct this time.
That being said, Ivaka is still inside the facility that the Herrat are destroying us within, and we are trying to destroy without tremendous casualties.
->I] It is the correct call Petra. I will do my best to make it to you, but if I do not, I will . . .[<-
I interrupt whatever final message she wishes to send. ->P] You will make it back to me so you can fuck me for a week. Do not disappoint me, Ivanka. [<-
->I] With a demand like that, how could I refuse? [<-
She chuckles, but I know it’s nervous and uncertain. I can tell that her assertions are open ended in how she supports me in her death as well as delineating her next bold business strategy. My love is a series of confusions wrapped in abusive affection. While she was never my captor, we both suffered pain together, and where she sought control, I chased acceptance and we found them in each other.
As long as I’ve known her, she has never attempted to tell me how she truly felt until this moment: she expects to die. Stupid hero complex. There was a brief light when Penny came into our lives: it seemed that Ivanka would finally calm down, but she overplayed her hand. Ever since my recovery from severe radiation poisoning via alien nano machines, my love has been borderline religious on paying back her perceived debt to the now Empress.
The shuttles retrofit for combat begin laying covering fire for our transports, mowing lines into the charging Herrat forces from the crystal factory. I can see the shields of the forward vanguard faulter to the large caliber mixed weaponry, but as one cat falls another takes it s place. Just behind them, a wedge of seven grizzly warriors with cruel-looking scimitars seem to jitter with excitement of the upcoming massacre. With at most sixty of our teams left, and around two hundred armed predators running our way, the fate of the battle is nearly sealed.
Out of nowhere, the back ranks of the oncoming charge takes a knee and readies some familiar boxy weapons.
“Shuttles, evasive action!” I shout through comms, but it’s already too late for our lead gunship that had been creeping closer to shield the transports. A dozen pulse slugs hit and it only takes half of that to break the shields. Whatever system they hit, perhaps even the pilot, the shuttle starts spinning and tilting toward the ground, but through luck or the force of will of a dying comrade, the shuttle rolls through the enemy as it rapidly disassembles itself against the unforgiving moon. With a dozen or two more of the enemy wounded and the riflemen having a harder time targeting us, our forces are withered less quickly for a few moments.
Grenades and rockets from our side take a toll, but it’s not enough to keep the tide from rolling towards us—the ten of us forming a forward break will be the next to fall. Or we would have been if our sappers hadn’t just blown the charges on the bunker-like mine-production facility.
Chunks of concrete the size of horses fly across the landscape as smaller, faster shrapnel pelts everyone not taking cover. Combatants from both sides are forced to the ground as a cloud of concrete and smoke covers the area.
/All squads, use transport beacons to retreat. Keep moving while the cover lasts. Switch to ballistics, front ranks to auto, rotating retreat!/
I get clicks from fifteen squads it’s not all of us, but it’s enough to keep fighting until the transports are full. I sling my rifle and palm med injectors as I retreat, jabbing nearly everyone I see as no one has escaped injury from the counter assault and explosion.
->/ Ivanka, tell me you’re alive./<-
->/Heh, you would call now, I would hear your voice, but my helmet is crushed and I am beneath half a building. You must evacuate. You must survive to treat our comrades and support our new Marshal./<-
->/I will not flee while you are alive, you know this. Stubborn woman./<-
->/I do, then you will know that I will make you realize you have no choice. I never leave you enough choices to defy me. You know this, stubborn woman./<-
I do. I know this and for one of the few times in my life, I begin to cry.
->/Do not do this, Ivanka. I will find you. As long as there is a spec of life within you, I can bring you back!/<-
->/You would give your life to do as I ask, I have always known, always demanded this. What I would not tell you, could not until my last breaths, is that I would do the same for you. Without question. I love you more than any Russian has ever loved their country./<-
->/Don’t you dare you arrogant woman!/<- The ground shudders before the shockwave hits. She must have rigged her body with grenades to ensure I could never find a portion of her to resurrect, and to inter the remaining Herrat in an earthen tomb.
Stolen story; please report.
/Comrade Colonel Baiul has fallen. Major Petrov is assuming command. Continue retreat, all vessels take off when full. Leave all grenades, explosives and rockets for the glory of our new Marshal./
***
“Ship leader. Surrender or die.” I say as I blip into the bridge of the defiant ship. I take a brief look around and see that the bridge crew has been executed and the hatches barricaded. He decides to shoot me as I’m distracted, and to my surprise my shields flash yellow.
“You should be dead! Your race should only be tier 1!”
“The racial tier is an average, asshole. And I negotiated the sanctions. I’m surprised that your war leaders didn’t do their research before they committed to war.” I rush him and spear him with my saber and put half a dozen pulse rounds under his chin. It takes most of them to break his close-in shield. Huh, he was better protected than the fleet commander.
“I claim this ship by right of conquest!”
“/Admiral Astoria, the Aggressor has forwarded us your credentials and we, the AI’s of Vengeance, will happily validate them./”
They are texting and speaking and it’s disorienting.
/Vengeance AI, patch this channel into your command suite and patch them to the appropriate channels as I address/
The AI’s chirp at me.
“Crew of the Vengeance, Admiral Astoria has commandeered your vessel and will honor the choices you forward to Ship Leader Bashir of the Aggressor. This ship will be command disabled until logistics can be arranged to support the fleet’s choices. Any continued destruction of the ship will be considered a whole crew action, risking the destruction of the entire ship. Thank you for your cooperation.”
->P] Alaris, can you patch me into ship and commanders please?[<-
->A] Yes Admiral. [<-
“/Captains and Admirals, the space conflict with the Herrat on the Frontier border is over, yet the conflict continues on Clotho with mercenary troops responding to a persistent threat to our infrastructure.
“/Titania, report to Clotho, to support the mercenaries, or bombard the Herrat from orbit, whichever appears most relevant. Defer to on-scene command. Mab, you are to ensure complete control over the Astorian system, priority being the Host and the Aelean Gate. Alaris, you will ensure the wellbeing of the Sol system with your priority being stealth until unauthorized vessels enter the system, revealing yourself only when you can ensure overwhelming force of conflict on their command vessel should it appear.
“/The Herrat should not be finished at our little skirmish. They outnumber humanity eight to one, and there are rumors that a slaver habitat ship was dispatched almost immediately after their diplomatic envoy. Alaris, you will be allowed all resources available to make Humanity’s origin as defensible as practicable. Mines, asteroids, new ships, whatever it takes./”
I break a moment, standing on a foreign ship making domestic decrees before I make my riskiest ones.
“/Galilei. I require you to return to my location to act as transport for the Herrat that have chosen colonial isolation. Your tech is unintuitive for these cats, and I feel you would be the most likely to have no conflict transporting these cats to the Kepler system, where I intend to implant them with no means to escape. Before you, or any of the ships decide to comment, I will be allowing all ship captains to transfer or resign from this follow-on mission as I re-assigned most of you from other commands. If you wish to be re-assigned, I require your preference for command along with your AI’s preference from the fleet’s current compliment. You have half an hour, or until I finish discussing the conflict with the Herrat, whichever is longer. Admiral out./” Big eagle energy.
Couple of breaths, a soothing berry drink later and I’m ready to be angry at some cats.
“Vengeance, please tell the crew that I require a Herrat representative to speak for the crew.”
/Aggressor, connect me in conference with acting Ship leader Bashir and the figure heads of the remaining ships of the Herrat fleet./
/Right away, Admiral./
“Communicator Bashir, how can I serve, Admiral?”
“/Adjutant Sebi, Admiral, Speaking for the crew of the Vengeance./”
“Bashir, connect us to the Warleader in command of this mission. Adjutant Sebi, report to the bridge. No harm will come to you unless you act against me.”
Minutes upon minutes pass and I think they’re ignoring me as Sebi arrives. A reedy, intelligent-looking saber? Comes to the bridge.
“Sebi I presume?” they nod. “Great. Come in and collect yourself. You are here to validate my control to the Warleader. I doubt they would take your ship’s word.”
“No, they would not. Warleaders are not known for their . . . understanding.” I nod at the feline growl of their voice.
An overwhelming roar erupts from every speaker imaginable. I reply by pushing a sub-vocal pulse and whatever aether I can muster back through those channels. Sebi vomits, and I hear some forced restraint from the other end of the communication.
“Who roars such . . . inconvenience in my presence?” I demand.
“I am Sub-Leader Tijerico. I am able to accept your unconditional surrender.”
“Bold, sub-leader. I am Empress Penelope Astoria of the Matrix and I have commandeered the scout fleet sent to destabilize my home world. I am contacting the Herrat to negotiate a cessation of hostilities.”
The cat on the other side of comms hisses in apparent amusement. “That is mere a token fleet headed toward Humanity’s worlds. What could you possibly negotiate with.”
“I am currently prepared to initiate an extinction event on a Herrati home world if your efforts persist.” Laughter erupts through multiple maws through the comms channel at my statement.
“If you manage to harm one person on a single of our worlds, I would be surprised.”
I fire a pre-positioned missile from one of their moons.
“Oh! You came prepared, how . . . cute. Ballistics are so last millennium.”
I hit another button for warp-swarm protocol. Warping that way in atmosphere causes extra explosions because antimatter is dangerous. I hope thousands on a whim will convince them.
Half an hour later my timeline to my fleet captains is elapsed, but the Herrat Sub-leader is more important right now.
“Half a million Herrat and slaves is hardly an expense to capitulate over. If that is your demand, then we will decline. War continues until your planets are enslaved by us.”
“So, to confirm, the Herrat, as a race will continue to war until all Astorians are enslaved?” I ask, to see how stupid the Sub-leader really is.
“Are you stupid, woman? Yes! The Herrat will enslave your subjects until the end of your race or ours!!” Oh . . . wow. That is way more than he should have committed to.
“You have 72 Astorian Standard hours to evacuate your planets until I pick one. Empress out.” I cut the comms, seething in my hate. That cat’s distain for life appalls me. Then again, I did threaten to obliterate a whole planet. As an eccentric expansionist, I would have thought I was bluffing too.
/Penny, DE Alaris. Priority Message from what remains of the Syndicate./
/Send it Alaris./
“/Penny. Ivanka secured our retreat, but is no more. I have organized the retreat of three shuttles full of troops. At least a thousand Herrat live to terrorize Clotho./”
“/Petra. I don’t believe that iron nail died for a second, but if she did, let me know what you need. As for the Syndicate . . . you have 30 days to re-organize before I scour the previous organization from all of my holdings. As for you, I hold you as a dearest friend. Anything you need, is yours./”
“/Fuck you, turn that moon into rubble. I need your friendship./”
“/Stay in my loft, comrade. Your pain is also mine. Ivanka gave me a 20yr old bottle of vodka with your actual name on it. Save a shot for me./”
Fuck. These fucking cats have to go. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH! I pulse my aura and Sebi bleeds from their everything and crashes to the deck. FUCK!