"Now hear this, now hear this.

"In less than an hour we will drop out of jump space. Chances of an enemy encounter are high. We are far from home, far from support and surrounded by untold trillions of Mar-gite in deep space. This is good, it means we don't have to worry about what we shoot at.

"When the time comes, I have only one standing order: fight. Fight with every gun, every missile, every ounce of will and scrap of code at your disposal. If central control is lost, fight under local control. If isolated from the computers, fight under manual control. If boarded, fight for every corridor, every stateroom, every access way you can reach. Fight for your lives and if you find your situation hopeless, fight to drag the enemy into the grave with you.

"The Confederacy expects that every sentient will do their duty. Our duty is to engage the enemy.

"And the enemy only exists to be destroyed.

"That is all." -- Nova Wars Era, Confederate Space Force, speaker and ship of origin uncertain.

"Tell me, Sister? How far does your sight reach? How many years? And then, in the future, when we have given up strength, and allies, and numbers, and the potential to fight back meaningfully, time and again, in pursuit of your safe path... and you find out it is a cul-de-sac, surrounded on all sides by death, with no possible escape, because you traded away every chance of victory because you were scared... who will you blame then?" - Dhruv Deshmuhk, Legion, apocryphal, referenced in "Telling a Hard Truth straight: a love language", Psychology Forever Journal

"We fight, not for today, not for this blood soaked agony wracked terrible day or the horrible horrible victory we may wrench from the gnashing jaws of defeat with blood soaked hands.

"We fight for tomorrow. For those yet unborn. For the future.

"You are the hope of the Telkan people. You are the living standard, the banner, that says to the universe: We will not submit! We will not kneel! We will stand! We will fight!

"With that, know that the Telkan people are with you, Marine. Always." - Director Brentili'ik, in a speech to Telkan Marine Officer's Training Course Class #10, Confederacy-Council Conflict Era.

The flashes were starting. Not big ones, not the Flashbang, but rather the tiny pinpricks of harsh light that sparkled for a second that vanished.

Deaths that had happened seconds or minutes prior.

Captain N'Skrek stared out the windows of the Show Bridge, staring at the inky black of space. The ship, the Gray Lady, was in between the Galactic Arms, in the vast nothingness that held no stellar systems.

Oh, it had at one time.

Forty thousand years prior the stars between the two galactic arm spurs had gone out, with the exception of a single string of pearls liking the two galactic arms.

Now, the Gray Lady, a ship in the Colossus Class of ancient Confederacy Space Force classification, was deep into the gulf between the galactic arms. Just over halfway.

He could see the rings that made up a long tube, the rings held into position by what looked like, at a distance of light seconds, to be thin straps. Coasting silently through the rings, bathed by light emitted by the interior of the rings, were massive Mar-gite Attack Clusters.

Sparkles were starting to show on the clusters as the Fruit Flies made their attack runs.

Larger flashes, still rendered tiny by stellar distances, started shining to brief life as the C+ cannon barrages and the missile swarms started slamming into the shining chrome ships.

Return fire was causing the battlescreens to cover the ship in a gauzy veil.

"No, no, it's all death and destruction," a Terran woman moaned from where she was being held in place by three identical human males.

Captain N'Skrek knew that it was, without any doubt, a physical assault upon the female.

But Captain N'Skrek was also smart enough to know not to get involved when two Immortals of myth and legend were having a family squabble.

After all, were not the Treana'ad a crafty and wise people who managed to obtain victgory over 25% of all military engagements with the Terrans?

"We're humans, there's always death and destruction," the male said, his voice slightly mocking. "Look past the probabilities. Look past the initial death and destruction. Look at the pathways it all leads to. Look at the path that we're taking."

The woman struggled but the man held her still.

"It's all death and destruction! Millions! Billions! Trillions of deaths!" she wailed.

"The enemy's death toll does not matter, little sister," the man, known to historians as the Biological Apostle Vat-Grown Luke, told the woman. "It's war. There will be death and destruction no matter what. What matters, all that matters, is that humanity and its allies survive."

"Please, Luke," the woman started sobbing.

"Tears don't work on me," Legion said, his voice full of dark and cruel mirth.

He leaned his head down.

"I am... Legion," he said softly.

Captain N'Skrek put the two Immortals out of his mind as he coordinated the battle, taking tactical and strategic advice from his staff.

The Fruit Flies wreaked havoc on the rings, shattering them, letting superstructure damage work with inertia and momentum to tear the systems apart. C+ cannon shots hitting deep inside the megastructures. The shots were no longer straight iron ferrite slugs with a hyperdrive engine for thrust and reactionless inertia engines for guidance and terminal maneuvers, they now had a burning core of spooky and strange-particle FOOF that weighed in the metric kilotons.

"Fruit Fly system back online, Captain."

"Fabricate and launch," N'Skrek ordered. "Compliments on their initial strikes."

The silver ships were destroyed already, the temporal range finders reporting data from when the shells would hit, telling N'Skrek's staff where the ships would be when the shots were fired.

"I can't... I can't..." the woman sobbed when N'Skrek ordered another flight of Fruit Flies into the fight.

"Parse the deaths, parse the destruction," Legion said. Another of him pointed at the icons for the just-launched Fruit Fly flights. "They are born, they live, and they die to kill the enemy. Over and over, it's what they do. Look past their deaths at their accomplishments."

The Terran woman was sobbing, but N'Skrek didn't care.

He had a job to do.

Task Force Lonely Peach had a job to do.

It had came as no surprise to him that Legion would know, without being told or having it confirmed, what the ultimate goal of Task Force Lonely Peach.

After all, Legion himself had carried out such orders under the command of the Imperium.

It no longer mattered what happened behind the Gray Lady, whether or not the Confederacy or anyone else survived. It no longer mattered if the Mar-gite were victorious or not.

The target were not the Mar-gite, present in the massive rolled up long cones.

The target were the ones pushing them forward, the ones enabling them to cross the great emptiness between the two galactic arms.

No, the target was now those enabling the Mar-gite.

Captain N'Skrek's orders were simple.

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Find the enemy.

Determine their leadership.

Attack their military.

Attack their planets.

Sterilize their stellar systems.

Break the will of their civilians to support their government.

Leave them no ground to go to.

His briefing had been grim. The Confederacy was confident it could eventually stop the Mar-gite.

Eventually.

That meant dozens, hundreds, possibly thousands of planets denuded of life. Just as many stars nova-sparked to wipe out any trace of the Mar-gite.

Task Force Lonely Peach had been dispatched with a very Terran mission.

To return to the Mar-gite's masters what they had given the Confederacy.

Tenfold.

Captain N'Skrek watched as the Fruit Flies split up into squadrons, heading for any remaining hulks of the silver ships, the larger pieces of the megaconstruct, and to fire upon any of the Mega-Clusters or larger.

"Look past the death and destruction," Legion was saying. "They'll be sending in reinforcements, Sacajawea," his voice grew low and deadly. "Where will they come out."

"No, I won't," she whispered, her eyes wide and staring at the holotank. "I won't use my gift," she sobbed.

"You will. You ran away last time. You left us to rely on The Detainee to access the SUDS. You ran off and left us and humanity has been extinct for forty-thousand years," Legion was saying. "No more running, little sister. You will use your gifts, your powers, as you were meant to."

There was a perfectly timed coincidental moment of silence on the Show Bridge.

"Show us the way," Legion said.

Sacajawea suddenly jerked upright, the tendons on her neck standing out as her face raised to the ceiling. Her arm lifted, pointing out the window of the Show Bridge. Her other hand thrust itself into the hologram. Her eyes glowed purple, lightning crackled up and down her raven braids, and sparks danced between her teeth as they chattered.

A section of space was outlined as she gibbered for a moment, fragments of words, chops of sentences, followed by a string of numbers that the tactical computers recognized as coordinates.

"They come, more than before. They know not what they face, just that the enemy, that we, are attacking them, attacking their forces, and so now they will arrive here and now," she cried out. "They do not know, they come in a multitude that not even this powerful vessel can resist. They come by the hundreds, and will overwhelm even this vessel according to my Sight."

She collapsed and Legion caught her even as two versions of him turned to face the windows.

"Let me know when you want me to call for those reinforcements I promised you," one said.

"Or not," the other said.

N'Skrek just nodded, turning and giving orders to the crew to prepare for a microjump to put them 'above' and 'away' from the point that Sacajawea had pointed out.

"Can she have lied?" N'Skrek asked, the Legion standing beside him as four others carefully carried Sacajawea off.

Legion shook his head. "No. I'd know if she was lying," he said. "She was filled with a trance, a fugue state, so the more mortal part of her wasn't there to lie."

"Hold off on those reinforcements until we can see what we are facing," N'Skrek said. He snorted. "I doubt the young lady fully appreciates the firepower the Gray Lady can put out."

"She was never military. She had some training, but not much," Legion said. "Still, she had a vision, take that as you will."

N'Skrek nodded. He turned and ordered up more Fruit Flies to be generated.

He'd have them launch as soon as the microjump was finished.

"Digital Sentiences, Virtual Intelligences report jump transit safety interlocks are engaged," came the word.

N'Skrek motioned. "Engage."

The painting appeared, but before N'Skrek could pause to look at it he was thrown through it, the image shattering into hundreds of shards of reality. They dissolved almost instantly.

N'Skrek only took a half-step forward as the ship entered realspace.

"Load the planet-crackers. Target the larger Mar-gite constructs. Let's see how they like that, since we don't have to worry about gravitational wobble," N'Skrek ordered. "When our new guests arrive, I want them to be focusing on the constructs."

"Fruit Flies are launching. Steam driven launcher only," came the report.

N'Skrek nodded, staring at the screen.

"I remember waiting to ambush the Mantid's Third Fleet that was heading for Sol," Legion said conversationally, as if he wasn't speaking about one of the most famous wars of ancient history. "Hiding in the gravity shadow of a supermassive gas giant, inside the rings themselves."

He turned and gave N'Skrek a grin.

"An Armada of One," he said. "No chance for the Mantid to overwhelm my brain, to shut me down. Beyond a Hive Mind, a singular mind with a singular purpose."

"Sounds exciting," N'Skrek said, watching the windows and the holotank at the same time.

"Very boring. I played a lot of video games and card games," Legion said.

"Against yourself, even an MMO would be solitary and single player," N'Skrek said.

"Ruins PvP," Legion grinned.

"I'll bet," N'Skrek said.

"The Sacajawea of that time stood on the bridge with me. She had shown me where the Mantid would take the most casualties and where I would be killed quite often," Legion said. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and N'Skrek hid a frown at the fact he didn't recognize Lucky Strike as a brand he was familiar with.

"Does it hurt when you get killed?" N'Skrek asked as Legion lit two cigarettes, handing one to N'Skrek.

"Very much so," Legion said. "Took me a few hundred thousand deaths to get used to it. Now, it hurts, it's terrifying, but not much more than clipping my fingernails," he sighed. "It's all right. I've always been, in many ways, less than human."

"You seem, to my albeit limited experience, to be very human to me," N'Skrek said. He took a drag off the cigarette and almost started coughing. It was harsh, raw tobacco with no additives and the filter tasting heavily of asbestos.

The Fruit Flies were scattering, going to full stealth, blinking their ready icons.

"Thank you," Legion said. He exhaled smoke. "Like the smoke?"

N'Skrek nodded.

"Gift from the Dee. Not the Detainee Lady Lord of Hell," he said, staring at the holotank. "But The Dee. The flesh and blood one," he gave a rueful chuckle. "Evil never dies."

"Harsh," N'Skrek said.

The missile pods flashed ready and went to stealth.

"Like her," Legion smiled. He suddenly looked a bit sad. "I miss her. Miss my siblings, the other Biological Apostles," he said. He sighed. "Sacajawea makes me miss them all that much more."

N'Skrek just nodded.

"Sometimes I miss the Digital Omnimessiah too."

"Ship is at silent running," came the soft voice.

N'Skrek stood there, smoking, with Legion standing next to him.

Behind them Mar-gite clusters were breaking up from a combination of the FOOF and the split second artificial singularities that exploded into existence inside their mass.

Perhaps I can't completely eliminate them, but I can knock out a measurable percentage since I don't have to worry about how it might affect a stellar system's gravity balance, he thought at one point.

Time slowly ticked by.

"How is she?" N'Skrek asked at one point.

"Recovering. I'm sitting with her. I had a medic look at her. Physically, she's fine," Legion said.

"She should be on anti-depressants and undergoing therapy. For us it's ancient history, for her the Glassing and the loss of her people, even her death, are recent events. She only died a short time ago," N'Skrek said.

"And you should be dancing for a comely matron and I should be somewhere helping someone correct genetic sequencing damage," Legion said. "Shoulda, coulda, woulda, didn't."

N'Skrek just nodded.

"Wait, can you see that?" Legion suddenly asked, pointing at the window.

"What?" N'Skrek said.

"The stars. A faint red-shift," Legion said.

N'Skrek looked toward the scanning officer, who frowned and looked at his instruments.

"It's faint. And large," Legion said. He motioned with his hands, using the smart-glass interface to highlight the area. "Right there."

"Nothing, sir," the scan-tech said.

N'Skrek tapped his lapel. "All personnel, prepare for enemy engagement," he said.

His voice carried over the intercom.

"Akka-Berry," Legion said softly. "They use a form of Akka-Berry."

The chrome ships suddenly appeared, wavering slightly like a heat mirage before solidifying up. They appeared pebbled and dull, like unbuffed and unpolished chrome.

"OPEN FIRE!" N'Skrek roared. He knew it was unnecessary, that the computers would give the fire order.

But it seemed to carry more weight as the PA repeated it.

0-0-0-0-0

Legion got into the elevator, waiting a moment after the doors closed to touch the panel. He overrode the alarms, then stopped the elevator.

The shadows warped and a light fog filled the elevator car.

It cleared to reveal a short Terran woman, with black hair pulled behind her head in a long braid, a severe face, plump, overripe figure, and gunmetal gray eyes.

"Well?" Legion asked.

"She's a child," the woman spat.

"I know that," Legion said. "Can you help her?"

"No, I mean, she's literally a child. Physically. She's never grown up," the woman snarled.

"Our aging was halted due to what we were going to do. The last thing we needed was a temporal sheer to kill half of us via old age," Legion said.

"I know that, you multiplying idiot," the woman snapped. "But she should have been allowed to grow into an adult first."

"She chose to stay young," Legion shrugged.

"And her brain has the neural pathways of a child," the woman snapped. She dug out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter of enameled steel. "The human brain doesn't fully mature until it's in its mid-20's. That's why we sent 18 year olds off to die in a rice patty or on some god forsaken beach. You need people who think charging the machinegun is a good idea, and teenage boys are well known for their excellent risk-reward judgement."

Legion just shrugged.

"But her, she's a child. Sixteen at the most, probably later fifteen," the woman said. She pulled out a cigarette, held it between her even white teeth, and lit it. "She has the mind of a teenage girl, a people known for their excellent decision making ability and capability to process trauma."

Legion just nodded.

The woman put away the cigarettes without offering one to Legion. He saw the emblem on the lighter.

"US ARMY ATOMIC COMMAND" in red block letters.

"You know how I feel about child soldiers," the woman said.

"It was The Glassing," Legion just shrugged.

"It's always something," the woman snarled. "Doesn't change how I feel."

"Can you help her?" Legion asked. "You're closer to her than I am."

"You mean, I'm as much a primitive barbarian as she is," the woman said, suddenly smiling without any humor. "I am what I am and she is what she is. Primitive savages from a time of hardship, resource shortages, and social upheaval."

"I wouldn't be so rude as to put it that way," Legion said. He smiled back. "But, yes."

The woman stared at the brushed steel wall of the elevator for a long moment. "I won't alter her SUDS record."

"Of course not," Legion said.

After a moment she nodded. "I can't help her, but I know some people who may."

Legion looked down at her. "Who?"

The woman smiled and exhaled smoke that filled the elevator car.

Her teeth and eyes were still visible.

"You'll know them when I bring them," she said. The eyes blinked. "Keep me in the loop for what's going on here. I have a feeling that events back home are going to have my attention pretty soon."

"I will," Legion told the eyes as the smile vanished.

The eyes closed.

Legion could feel it when she was gone. The smoke slowly cleared, leaving him alone in the elevator.

0-0-0-0-0

"What is taking this elevator so long to get here?" Jaskel asked 8814.

--not know computer says is moving-- the greenie replied.

"Aw man, Gunny's going to have my ass."