POW CAMP BLUE LAGOON
TWO MONTHS PRIOR TO CASE OMAHA
Del'Var heard his implant ping as he carefully ran the router around the edge of the long wooden board he was working on. He was running a gently curved bevel for one of the railings of the dock, planning on replacing the ant-built material with honest wood from the trees on the island.
ONE PIECE OF PHYSICAL MAIL ONE EMAIL appeared in his vision.
He finished working and then carefully put his tools away. His workshop had more tools than he had been able to afford before he was conscripted by the Overseers to fight against the Terrans and he was able to work with real wood, something that he would have never been able to afford prior to his conscription.
It is the laughter of a malevolent universe that I am freer and more wealthy as a prisoner of war in the custody of the Terrans than I ever was when I was supposedly 'free' and living on my home world, he thought to himself.
Del'Var wiped off his hands and went into the main relaxation room of his cottage, sitting down in a woven chair and relaxing. He tapped his implant and was startled to see that it was a combination of video and text, all the way from Terra. It had the listing of the Terran Prisoner of War Relief Society on the header. Del'Var knew that the TPWRS were the ones who sent packages with treats, sent movies, sent little things that made life a tiny bit easier and a lot more bearable.
PRISONER PEN-PAL SERVICES was also on the message.
Curious, he opened the mail.
The pictures were of a small Terran child, probably 2/3rds of Del'Var's five foot six height. She had black hair woven in tight rows across her scalp with braids hanging from the back. She had brown skin, brown eyes, a datalink on her right temple, and was wearing brightly colored clothing. The first picture she was waving, smiling and obviously happy. The legend said "Hello N'Karoo Person!" The next picture the same girl, dressed in different clothing, was in front of a plain of shining glass. She held a sign that said "Hello from the Shores of the Great Glass Sea!". The next one had the girl sitting on the deck of a small sailing ship with the reflective glass all around her. She wore protective goggles and it was obviously extremely bright. The legend said "I like to sail the Glass Sea with my father!"
For some reason the pictures made Del'Var smile. He had looked up "The Great Glass Sea" and was startled to find out it was where the Mantid had glassed a huge section of one of the continents of Terra, a place called 'Botswana'.
Curious, he opened the video.
The young girl sat at a desk, a computer next to her, smiling. She waved at the camera.
"Hi! I'm Naledi Phiri!" the Terran girl said. She waved at the camera again. "I'm ten years old and in school. I live at the edge of the Great Glass Sea in Botswana, on Terra itself," she smiled and Del'Var found himself smiling back as the girl told him all about herself. How she was in school, how the teacher had said that Del'Var and his people had been captured and couldn't go home and were lonely. She asked him questions, like what his favorite color was (her's was yellow), what his favorite food was, did he have any pets, and more. She was obviously happy to be making the video-mail and seemed eager to get to know Del'Var. She closed it off with a hope that he would write to her soon.
The text was mostly a typed letter telling him about just little details about how she liked sailing on the Glass Sea, how much she liked school, and how she sent him a present.
Curious, he opened the small package that had stamps on it that it had been inspected by POW Camp Services.
Inside was a small broken piece of glass. One side highly reflective, the other facets of the broken chunk were dark purplish-green. There was a little note with carefully written Unified Standard Language.
I found this at the edge of the Sea, it read. I thought you might like it.
Del'Var stared at the piece of glass, reaching out and touching it.
It was a little thing. Small, just a chunk of plasma glass.
But it meant something to him. That she had shared a small part of her world with him.
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DEAR: Uln-Var, Revered Mother
Things are going well here. A lot of the humans left, with the Treana'ad, Mantid, and Rigellians taking over. Something about how the Terrans are needed for the war effort, but it seems a little strange that even my doctor would have left.
I am writing to a Terran female child. She likes to exchange videos and text with me. It is strange, how full of life and joy she is even though her people are at war and two of her family members are with the Terran military.
Things here have settled down. There has only been a few prisoners, although a month ago another group of females, who had all been taken as menial labor on Overseers estates, arrived.
I hope that things are going well for you. The news that the entire planet and the our colonies have surrendered to the Terrans seems strange.
I looked up the "Elven Queens" and found out that they had been developed, originally, to fix the biosphere of either Rigel or Terra, it's hard to tell which one. I am relieve to discover that the Terrans have enough faith in the Elven Queens to restore the biosphere of their own planet as well as the planets of one of their longest allies.
The pictures you sent of the reefs coming back to life, of the fish returning, made many of us weep with joy.
I miss you and the rest of the family dearly. I hope that the war will soon be over and we will be reunited, although part of me hopes that you come here, where it is beautiful, the waves are gentle, and the breezes are warm.
Please embrace my siblings and my father for me.
Your Faithful Son, Del'Var.
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TANGRULAMO'O SYSTEM
TWO MONTHS PRIOR TO CASE OMAHA
The system had been heavily guarded. The system had three gas giants, three outer planets (two in the red zone, one in the amber zone), an asteroid belt, a planet in the green zone, another asteroid belt, and two planets in the red zone close to the energetic yellow star. The green zone planet was a carefully manicured Pangaeanic continent with only a few large islands scattered around the opposite side.
The Grand Most High of System Defense had checked the records as system after system around him fell to the forces of The Harmonous Empire. He had over a half million ships, nearly fifty million ground troops. A half million armored vehicles, a million aerospace fighters, nearly ten million power armor troops, and a half million robot combat power armor troops.
The Grand Most High of System Defense, one Mo'otTwo'ot, had read each of the panicked and despondent final messages from each of the systems that surrounded Tangrulamo'o.
The huge wedge shaped ships were not only capable of putting out an immense amount of firepower, they had thick armor that could bounce or absorb a shot from a heavy near C velocity cannon, point defense systems that were capable of not only taking out missiles and torpedoes but could destroy light and medium attack craft. The huge ships carried a compliment of thousands of the highly manueverable and highly effective attack craft and tens of thousands of ground troops, complete with armored and utility vehicle support.
Several of the wedge shaped ships were able to artificially project a gravity shadow into jumpspace, causing artificial gravity sheers, preventing ships from moving to jumpspace and escaping as well as preventing reinforcements from arriving.
Not only were the big wedge-shaped ships dangerous, the Empire fleet had many different classes, all of them armored, shielded, screened, and armed far beyond what any reasonable species would have bothered with. From light frigates to large heavy battlecruisers (that were still smaller than the massive wedge shaped ships), the Empire had noticable standardization.
Despite the fact that as far as Executor Intelligence could tell The Empire was not part of Space Force the one thing that Mo'otTwo'ot had noticed is that the Empire had specific ship types, standard weapons, and uniforms to ensure that they possessed a uniform appearance.
Despite what the Executor Intelligence analysts had determined, that the Empire was made up of some kind of military surplus, Mo'otTwo'ot had decided that it had little bearing on the fact that whether or not the Empire was using military surplus, they were still a military force.
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When the Empire attacked the last six systems that were easily reachable from Tangrulamo'o, Mo'otTwo'ot had ordered the military forces brought from depot and storage up to fighting status even before those system had fallen.
By taking those systems the Empire would have ninety-nine systems.
Mo'otTwo'ot knew that Terrans had ten digits on their hands. They had a tendency for binary computer systems, which he felt was a byproduct of having two hands, and they preferred a ten base math system, which had to do with how many fingers they had.
By simple deduction Mo'otTwo'ot knew that his system would be the last system in the 'bubble' of systems taken over.
It would be number one hundred.
Ten tens.
It had a symmetry even he could appreciate.
Unlike the other System Most Highs, Grand Most High of System Defense Mo'otTwo'ot knew the why of what the black armored Terran was doing.
The other System Most Highs did not understand the why of the Terran's attack upon all of those systems. Could not understand why the black armored Terran was able to lead millions, hundreds of millions of military troops, thousands of ships. Did not understand why so many Terrans would willingly follow the black armored Terran.
Mo'otTwo'ot had managed to discover that the leader of the Empire, this Darth Harmonus, was motivated by the death of his sibling.
He knew that none of his peers, his subordinates, would ever understand Darth Harmonus the way Mo'otTwo'ot understood him.
Mo'otTwo'ot had seen his sister be married to a high ranking Lanaktallan.
Had watched her curiosity and intellect slowly dim until she was only interested in parties, social ranks, and society events.
The Genomic System had seemed to marry his sister off almost as soon as the certified breeding pairing time ran out.
Mo'otTwo'ot understood Darth Harmonus in a way that he believed none of his peers ever could.
While the Unified Military forces, the Unified Executor forces, and the Unified Corporate forces were confident in their ability to stop the Terrns, Mo'otTwo'ot had other beliefs.
To that end, Mo'otTwo'ot had made a simple arrangement. One that, superficially, had nothing to do with anything but moving a particular bureaucrat to powerful and massively wealth generating position. The bureaucrat had leaped at the change of position, the transfer.
After that, he had ordered the forces, all of the forces, to be brought up to fighting status.
The disaster started.
He had over a half million ships, nearly fifty million ground troops. A half million armored vehicles, a million aerospace fighters, nearly ten million power armor troops, and a half million robot combat power armor troops.
Except, that wasn't what he actually had between all three fighting forces.
A large percentage of them existed only on paper.
Others had dead reactors, no fissionable material left on board, and had been relegated to nothing more than a complex chunk of alloys by the steady progression of time.
Over half of the remaining ones were top of the line ships fifty million years ago.
Of the final number, a full fifteen percent of them were from the Precursor War.
At least those ones started up.
At then end of it, the numbers were disenheartening.
He had eight thousand ships, three point four million ground troops, six thousand armored vehicles, fifty aerospace fighters, six hundred thousand power armor troops, and a whole seventy-five robot power armor troops.
Mo'otTwo'ot knew that his troops had no chance against the forces of The Empire.
Still, he had a plan to save, not just himself, but the entire system's civilian population.
Maybe even the Lanaktallan in the military.
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FIVE WEEKS PRIOR TO CASE OMAHA
ONE TO FOUR MONTHS POST HESSTLA INCIDENT (SEE DATA FILE FOR ANOMALY)
Two weeks passed, faint traces of ships out in the Oort Cloud, warnings that the rest of the Most Highs ignored but Mo'otTwo'ot knew meant the Empire was coming.
He wasn't surprised when the Empire fleet appeared in the system, streaking into place near the planets. One message was broadcast from ships.
Surrender or die.
The Corporate Security Most High sent his forces out to face the Empire's ships.
Mo'otTwo'ot watched as they were destroyed less than a thousand miles from where they had launched from.
The military Great Most High stared at Mo'otTwo'ot, his tendrils trembling.
"There is no possible way those ships are in range yet," the military leader said.
Mo'otTwo'ot gave a noise of exasperation. "They came into the system within range of those ships. Nearly a hundred battles against our people, and who knows how many battles against their own kind has given them a deep understanding and skill set involving how to attack a stellar system. Each attack on a stellar system has happened more quickly, with less casualties to either side, as they become more and more adept at countering our strategies."
The military Great Most High stared in shock, outraged at the very heresy that Mo'otTwo'ot had stated.
Mo'otTwo'ot had prepared for the invasion carefully. He reached up, touched his datalink, and sent a single message to trusted men he had put in place weeks before.
"If you send your men out, the Terran will kill them. If you send the Unified Military forces out, they will only slow the Terrans down, put the citizenry in danger, and ultimately cost the Empire nothing but ammunition costs."
Mo'otTwo'ot could tell that it rankled the Military Most High, but he cared little for the feelings of a petty time punching slackwit.
"Order your men to stand down or I will," Mo'otTwo'ot said. He smiled. "If you stand them down, perhaps the Empire will put you in charge of something and you won't have to give up too much power."
"What will you do?" the military Most High asked as Mo'otTwo'ot trotted out of the room.
"Probably something stupid," Mo'otTwo'ot admitted.
He moved to a communication's room, opening a channel and broadcasting his identity, requesting to speak to Darth Harmonus himself.
He was both surprised and gratified when the image of gray uniformed Terrans vanished to be replaced by the black armored helmet of Darth Harmonus.
The Terran stared for a long moment, his breath wheezing.
"What," the Terran paused a moment. "Do you want?"
"I have something you want," Mo'otTwo'ot stated. "Something that if you attack might be lost in the fighting. Something I alone can give you."
"What?" the Terran asked.
"Come to these coordinates. You may bring your guard. I will be there, as will my guards, and what you do not realize you desire," Mo'otTwo'ot said. "My forces are standing down. We surrender. Those who keep fighting, fight without my permission, and should be regarded as renegade forces that you are free to destroy."
The Terran merely stared, his helmet preventing any signal via facial expressions. The breathing was steady, metronome, a wheezing mechanical thing.
Mo'otTwo'ot wondered how severe the Terran's lung damage was and how he had suffered it.
"If this is a trick, Great Most High Mo'otTwo'ot, you will regret it," Darth Harmonus said.
It was a statement of fact, not a threat, and Mo'otTwo'ot nodded. "In a few hours then. Landing at noon, with the sun high in the air, will be the most impressive."
The channel clicked off.
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The shuttle was imposing looking, Mo'otTwo'ot had to admit. Triangular, three wings, one straight up, the side wings folding up as it landed. The hatch opened and smoke billowed out.
Most theatrical, Mo'otTwo'ot thought to himself. Just as it appeared in the historical videos.
Out of the smoke strode a figure all in black, a cape billowing behind him. The guard ran out, taking positions, carrying small arms and crew served weapons.
The lawn was perfectly manicured, hedges on the side, a fountain in the middle with two obelisks rising up out of the water. Behind the fountain was a mansion, all green marble shot through with flecks of gold and streaks of white.
Mo'otTwo'ot stood in front of and slightly to the side of the fountain, his own personal guard wearing uniforms rather than combat armor, their weapons shined and polished until they gleamed. It didn't matter that none of them were loaded, Mo'otTwo'ot knew they'd be nearly useless against the Terrans.
The figure in black stopped, his breath wheezing, and stared at Mo'otTwo'ot for a long moment before looking at the fountain.
And the Lanaktallan who was tied to the two obelisks, lifted slightly off the ground, his four arms pulled away from his body.
"Welcome, Darth Harmonus," Mo'otTwo'ot said.
"Great Most High Mo'otTwo'ot," Harmonus wheezed. Mo'otTwo'ot noticed he had a deep voice, resonant, commanding respect. "Who, or what, is that?"
Mo'otTwo'ot watched the Tri-Vee cameras swooping around, all trying to get the best shot and best angles.
"The attack upon the Harmonus Cluster was the idea of one Lanaktallan originally. He envisioned it, he did the politicking to push it through the Unified Council, he advocated for it and planned it," Mo'otTwo'ot said.
Mo'otTwo'ot noticed that some of the busts on the pillars were starting to tremble as he spoke.
"This male right here. Current the Great Grand System High Most of this system, is that being," Mo'otTwo'ot took a chance and trotted so he was standing next to the Terran. "That being that I have brought before you as tribute in hopes you will accept my people's surrender."
"Is this true?" Darth Hamonus asked, stepping forward. He reached out with his hand as if he was grasping something.
Mo'otTwo'ot blinked all six eyes, feeling a harsh rasp across his mind, as the bound Lanaktallan's head was lifted.
"Is it true? Is what he says true?" the Terran asked.
"Yes," Mo'otTwo'ot said softly. "Strike him down with all your hatred and your Empire will be complete."
The wheezing stopped for a second and Mo'otTwo'ot saw electricity crackle around Darth Harmonus's boots.
"He must pay for what he did to the Harmonus Cluster," Mo'otTwo'ot said softly.
Lightning wreathed Darth Harmonus's fists, crawling up and down his forearms.
"His plan led to the deaths of tens of billions of innocents who had no part in our war," Mo'otTwo'ot was careful, keeping his voice soft, with just a hint of triumph in it.
He couldn't afford any doubt in his own mind as the lightning, blue with a purple core, thickened.
"Led to the death..." Mo'otTwo'ot paused for a heartbeat.
"...of your sister," Mo'otTwo'ot whispered, stressing the last word just a tiny bit.
Harmonus's right hand went to full extension, the small chrome tube flying from his waist to his hand, that red bar of plasma erupting with a sharp hissing snap.
His left hand went forward.
"Of Melody," Mo'otTwo'ot said.
Lightning erupted from Darth Harmonus's hand, covering the faceless, almost nameless politician who had planned, pushed through, and authorized the attack that had swept down on the Harmonus Cluster.
The bound Lanaktallan's abdominal cavity ruptured as his blood and fluids turned to steam, dumping his intestines into the fountain from beneath him. The bound Lanaktallan still jerked and screamed for a long moment before suddenly going limp.
Darth Harmonus still drove lightning into the corpse until the plasteel straps melted, until the body fell into the fountain, until the lightning tearing at the water hid the body in steam.
There was silence for a long moment, broken only by the far away sound of traffic.
Darth Harmonus turned, facing the shuttle.
"Your terms are acceptable," he wheezed.
Mo'otTwo'ot just stared in shock, his head aching, the taste of blood thick in his mouth. Three of his men had fainted or worse, eight had fled squealing, the rest were all shaken up.
"You will escort me to my ship, and there we shall discuss the status of this, the final system I will take in the name of the Empire," Darth Hamonus said.
Mo'otTwo'ot swallowed thickly, trying to get the copper taste out of his mouth. He knew he'd urinated on the lawn in fear but was not ashamed. He simply nodded and followed Darth Harmonus onto the shuttle.
Mo'otTwo'ot thought the lightning had been a trick, part of the many uses of the small orbs that swooped around Darth Harmonus.
He was partially right.
Before, it had been.
This time, the orbs were still set for tractor/pressor.
Darth Harmonus gave no hint either way, remaining silent as the two boarded the shuttle.
As it lifted off, four cringing Senior Most Highs began fishing the burnt corpse out of the fountain at gunpoint.
The Empire was complete.
Long live the Empire.