Never trust a smiling human - Mantid Proverb

Sma'akamo'o sat down on the bench seat that had modified to let him relax comfortably, at the side of Admiral Smith's Ready Room. The Terran Admiral sat on the far side of a table, officers of the Terran Confederate Space Force Navy on the sides of the table. There were three seats empty at the far end of the table, and a holo-emitter put up a spray of see-through glitter in the middle of the table. Representatives from the other Terran Fleets, including the Void Captain and her bodyguard, were sitting, like Sma'akamo'o, at the edge of the room.

At the door stood two shipboard Marines in adaptive camouflage, with protective plating layered on the outside and short, brutal looking submachine guns.

Sma'akamo'o knew it would take Lanaktallan anti-vehicle weaponry to penetrate those thin flimsy looking plates on the cloth uniform, and that the submachine gun carried ammunition that could rip through a Lanaktallan main battle tank's armor.

"Send him in," Admiral Smith said, her voice tight with stress.

Sma'akamo'o, Su'uprmo'o, and Spy'inmo'o had all been invited to observe the upcoming meeting.

The door opened and a smiling Admiral Huong and two attaches walked in.

"Have a seat, Admiral," Smith said, highlighting the chairs at the end of the table.

The three Terrans of the Ninth Republic of Earth took their seats.

Huong never stopped smiling.

"Despite my lofty and political rank, I'm a blunt woman, Admiral," Smith said.

"You know who we are," Huong smiled. He shrugged, lifting his hands. "We identified all of you after we made translation."

"Do you know how you got here?" Smith asked.

Huong tapped the table for a moment. "Our beacon must have got pulled to this side," his smile got wider. "Technically, you attacked us first."

Admiral Smith nodded. "Your beacon swapped places with an advanced missile collier pod."

"Which fired on our ships," Smith said. He laughed. "Thankfully, you hit the Coalsack Federation fleet rather than mine."

"And you translated onto your beacon," Smith said.

Smith nodded. "Yes. The battle was going bad for us," he looked at his aide. "Wouldn't you say?"

"Bad for everyone," the other human said. "We were already trying to make a run for it."

There was silence for a long moment.

"You were here before," Smith said.

Huong nodded. "We looked up the records. We didn't exactly cover ourselves with glory four thousand years ago when we invaded you," he shook his head. "That stopped inter-dimensional excursions."

"You stripped entire systems, nova-sparked suns, caught atmospheres on fire to kill the populations, planet cracked civilian occupied planets to strip mine the wreckage, before we stopped you," Smith said.

Huong nodded. "Our universe is slightly less resource rich," he said. He shook his head. "The Progenitors left behind almost nothing before destroying each other. We spread out, only to find that races gone for a hundred million years had already strip mined the planets and asteroid belts."

"You're stuck here," Smith said.

Huong nodded. "Our mat-trans system locked up, we're completely locked out, two hours ago."

Smith leaned forward. "And I know what your fleet really is."

Sma'akamo'o noticed how tense all three humans became.

"Your enemies wanted you bad. I know why," Smith's eyes glowed amber in the light. "Would you care to be honest or shall I lay it out for our guests?"

Huong's attache on the right shook his head slightly to signal negative to his Admiral. The other attache swallowed and looked away.

"You lied to me," Smith growled. Her hands clenched on the table. "I have you outgunned. I'm faster than you, bigger than you, better armored than you, bigger guns than you, and I'm probably personally meaner than you."

Huong smiled again.

"Tell me the real designation of your fleet," Smith growled.

In the middle of the table the holo-emitter blinked and showed the ships of the Terran Admiral's fleet.

Huong sat still for a long moment, his smile more like a rictus. Finally he put his hands on the table, palms flat, fingers spread out.

"Dandelion. It's designation is Dandelion Fleet," he admitted. He sighed and waved at the outside of the ship. "The planet out there?"

"Yes?" Smith said, her voice tight.

"It's the first planet with a breathable atmosphere that isn't full of howling isotopes or bioweapons," Huong admitted. He shook his head. "I'm fifty-two years old. The war started before I was born, and while it's technically over, it's only because there usually isn't anyone to fight."

"Until the Earth Hegemony and the Coalsack Federation caught up to our fleet," one of the aides grumbled.

"Those aren't combat troops, are they?" Smith asked.

Huong shrugged. "They can be. Like anyone else, you can just hand them a rifle and some body armor and send them into battle, same way the three of us were."

Smith tapped the table. "I'm not even going to ask your actual rank."

Huong smiled. "Lieutenant JG. But it's my fleet, that makes me an Admiral."

Smith sighed. "How long have you had that fleet?"

Huong looked at the left hand aide. "When did we pick up the troop transports?"

"We found them orbiting that dead prison Hellworld eight years ago, around Ilistrait-19," the aide said.

Smith nodded. "Your universe is in the middle of watching you kill yourselves."

Huong nodded.

"What started it?" Smith added.

Huong shrugged. "Too many big kids on the block? Argument over mining rights? Who knows. It was as century before any of us were born. Nobody alive now was alive back when it started."

"Nobody was around when the Milky Way Super-Singularity got nova-sparked," one of the aides said, still looking away.

"Or when the Andromeda Core got nova-sparked," Huong said. He shook his head. "We were born into a war that none of us even understood."

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Sma'akamo'o noted how uncomfortable Smith looked.

"So, will you be going guns free on us?" Huong asked. "Given our history, what happened four thousand years ago, you have the precedent and the reasons."

Smith stood up slowly, turning and facing the wall.

"One hundred and thirty billion people, sixty two systems, all wiped away and 'harvested' by your invading fleet, from a timeline that the only difference is an almost imperceptible percentage of strength in the gluon attraction," she said, facing the wall. "It took us twenty-five years to force you back to your own dimension, your own timeline."

Huong nodded, still smiling.

"But that was four thousand years ago, and times change," Smith said slowly. "You have billions of innocent people in cryo-stasis. Your cargo holds are less than 15% loaded with combat gear."

She put one hand on the wall. "The rest is farming and construction machinery and supplies, ovum and sperm, cryo-pods. You stacked a podnaught to the gills with cryo-pods and welded shut the deployment doors."

Huong just nodded.

"Most of your ship computers are brain dead or senile. Your radiation shielding is almost shot. Half of your ships, the engines are almost scrap and your mat-trans system is starting to fray," she said.

"And currently is locked up," Huong said, his voice bleak.

"You can't run. You can't hide. You can't fight," Smith said. She slowly turned around. "Four thousand years ago, you attacked without warning, swept down on everything you came across to harvest it, butchered billions of people."

Huong nodded, still smiling.

Sma'akamo'o tensed. He could feel the tension in the air. It was so thick it made his head ache.

"You have billions of people on board your ships in cryo-stasis," Smith said. "We already did a mitosis check, we're genetically compatible with each other."

Huong looked at his hands. "No gloves," he sighed. His smile vanished for a moment. "Everything I touched I left DNA and cells behind."

Smith nodded.

"You have animals, farming equipment, but you can't make another jump," Smith said. "Half of your ships won't make it."

Huong nodded.

"You can't fight."

"No."

"You can't run."

"No."

"But you fought your way this far."

"Yes."

"And you won't give up now."

"No."

Smith took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes the amber glow was gone.

"The Confederacy is at war with the Unified Civilized Council, the Atrekna, and the Precursor Autonomous War Machines," Smith said.

"Yes."

"Humanity has taken 99.98% casualties from an Atrekna surprise attack."

"Yes."

"We can always take you with us."

"Yes."

Sma'akamo'o lifted up his hand and chewed on his nails.

Smith shook her head. "But that's not the way we do things in this timeline."

Huong's smile vanished. "I would eliminate you without hesitation."

Smith nodded. "You come from a brutal and savage timeline, a timeline of oppression, barbarity, resource shortages, and the Digital Omnimessiah knows what. Of course you would," she put her hand on the table, fingers spread open, and stared at her own hand. "But that's not how we do things here. It may have been at one point, but it isn't now."

She looked up.

"I'm going to show you, Admiral Huong, how the Confederacy does things in this timeline," she said, her voice low and full of menace. "I'm going to show you how different things are now, four thousand years later."

Huong nodded, his smile looking sickly.

"I'm going to show you what is in store for your billions of refugees from a failing timeline," Admiral Smith said slowly as she walked up and stared down at Admiral Huong. Sma'akamo'o could see the sweat beading up on the Admiral's forehead as he looked up at the female Terran. "Show you how the Confederacy treats those weaker than themselves."

The Admiral's aides, on either side of him, had paled, and to Sma'akamo'o's eyes, looked sick to their stomachs.

"Do you need assistance?" Admiral Smith asked.

Sma'akamo'o's blood ran cold.

-------------

"Send them in," Admiral Smith said.

Sma'akamo'o watched as the door opened. Beyond were two Ultion Knights escorting the Void Captain. One came in, looking around. Sma'akamo'o could see the faint flicker of a scanner coming from the armored Ultion Knight that scanned the entire room and the personnel in it.

They moved in, the Ultion Knights taking up position on either side of the single chair at the far end of the table. The chairs that Admiral Huong's aides had sat in had been removed.

The Void Captain moved with an eerie grace, the hem of her dress unmoving as she apparently drifted across the floor. She sat down carefully, smoother her dress, before adjusting her veil slightly.

"Void Captain She'ishlos," Admiral Smith said. "Ultion Knight Senior Dire Major Pevri'ilinta, Ultion Knight Senior Dread Captain Shirli'itrinu."

"Terran Admiral," the Void Captain replied.

The Ultion Knights remained silent.

Smith reached out and tapped an icon on the table visible only to her. The holo-emitter came up, projecting the scene of a beautiful field with a city in the distance.

"Telkan-2," Smith said.

The two Ultion Knights went down on one knee, bowing their heads.

"This is not a historical video. I used the needlecast and GalNet to get these pictures. They were posted to the Telkan boards today," Admiral Smith said.

On the video a group of podlings ran into frame, giggling and tumbling, wrestling with one another.

Sma'akamo'o heard the Void Captain make an almost inaudible noise of pain.

"Podlings," the two Ultion Knights said in unison. "Podlings."

To Sma'akamo'o it sounded like they were in pain.

"In your timeline, Terra, Telkan, eighty percent of the Unified Council Systems, were lost to the Precursor Autonomous War Machines and the fighting between the Confederacy and the Unified Civilized Species Council," Admiral Smith said.

"Yes," The Void Captain said.

"The doctors did a genetic check," Admiral Smith said. She paused for a long moment. "You are genetically compatible with modern Telkan."

The Void Captain looked at her hands. "I dropped fur, left oil and sweat and skin cells on the places I touched," she looked up. "You did these checks without my consent, in violation of Confederate Genetic Privacy Statues?"

Smith nodded. "I am allowed to under unusual and strenuous circumstances that have fleet security issues involved. I doubt a board of inquiry would convict me, but you are free to make a complaint if you wish," she said.

The Void Captain remained silent.

"You have agreed to submit to my authority," Admiral Smith said.

"I have," the Void Captain replied.

"On my authority, I am dispatching your task force to the Telkan System for refit, personnel training, and other administrative functions. I have already informed Director Brentili'ik that you will be enroute within the next five days," Admiral Smith said. "While your firepower and metal weight would be welcome in the fight I have coming my way, you face a greater fight."

The Void Captain remained silent.

"You must face a world you saw devoured by Dwellerspawn, walk among people you thought were dead, possibly even meet with the version of yourself that grew up in this timeline," Smith said. She shook her head. "For me to force you into my order of battle, rather than dispatch you to Telkan, would be a most grievous violation of what the Confederacy stands for."

"Are there..." one Ultion Knight whispered. "Are there... podlings? Broodcarriers?"

"There are," Smith said. She tapped the icon and showed a bunch of broodcarriers chivvying podlings along a paved path in a park, with Rigellian ducks paddling in the sparkling pond. "A park on Telkan-1. Video taken this morning."

"Broodmommies," the other whispered.

The Void Captain reached out and put her hands on a shoulder of each of them.

Admiral Smith stared at the veiled Telkan female. "Go home, Void Captain. Take your fleet and your people with you."

She leaned back in her chair.

"That's an order."

---------------

Sma'akamo'o waited until everyone had left, remaining seated, as Smith rubbed her eyes.

"I would like to ask a question of you," Sma'akamo'o said.

"Go ahead," Smith said. She pulled a piece of gum out of her pocket and popped it in her mouth.

"Why not destroy Admiral Huong and his fleet? They did attack your people, scorch your star systems, four thousand years ago," Sma'akamo'o asked.

Smith nodded. "For your people that isn't a long time, for my people, that's over two hundred generations. There's nobody left alive except the Immortals from that long ago. I'd be murdering them for something they had no part in."

Sma'akamo'o shrugged. "My people would have determined they were accountable for the actions of their ancestors."

Smith shook her head. "We call that blood guilt. You are guilty because someone in the past you share bloodlines with did something. That way leads to nothing but suffering, oppression, and ultimately, war, savagery, and atrocity."

Sma'akamo'o nodded. "That is why you wipe them out. That way you do not have to worry about their descendants."

Smith nodded. "People have put that solution forward. We call that the Final Solution, and let me tell you, it's led to some ugly stuff," she tapped the table and the holo-emitter popped on, showing quick clips of sullenly smouldering planets, nova-sparked suns, burning cities, bodies stacked by the hundreds. "That's the Clown Face Nebula War."

Sma'akamo'o felt sick looking at the images.

"They got to the point that they were using planet-crackers on each other, bioweapons, scorching the atmosphere," Smith said. "The Confederacy got involved right when the escalated to nova-sparks."

"I see," Sma'akamo'o said.

"Do you want to know what caused it?" Smith asked. Sma'akamo'o noticed her voice was tired.

"I would," Sma'akamo'o said.

"A thousand years ago, when the planets were being settled, some of the settlers wanted to call the planetary cluster one thing," Smith said. She shook her head and gave a bitter, self-mocking laugh. "The others named the cluster another. They fought, and killed each other, and wiped out entire planets, over a disagreement on the planetary cluster's official name."

Sma'akamo'o blinked in shock.

"That's all. That's all it was. Over time each side criticized every decision the other made, each side labeled by the name they wanted, until finally each side declared open season on the other side," Smith said. She wiped way the image. "Human stupidity."

Sma'akamo'o nodded.

"If I kill him, because it's easier, what does that say about me, say about Space Force, say about the Confederacy, say about humanity?" Smith asked. "That easy trumps the Right to Exist?"

She stood up. "No. So I made a decision. I let him, and his people, live."

"We would not have," Sma'akamo'o admitted. "We would have simply exterminated them to prevent any problems later in time."

Smith nodded, holding Sma'akamo'o's gaze with her own.

"That's why you're government has to go."