Admiral N'Skrek watched as the dropships started lifting off from the drifting hulks of the Mar-gite Companion Vessels, Type I, II, & III. There had been a single dropship for the Type-I, the teardrop shaped one. The Type-II were seven round orbs, connected by thick struts, each orb connected to a central hexagon by another strut. From the center of the hexagon's top and bottom was a single strut, connecting to another orb, those orbs connected to the seven orbs of the central ring. The Type-III were two hexagons joined by a thick strut, each hexagon connected to the other by a hexagonal strut, each hexagon connected to seven globes around it by struts connected at the corner of the hexagon. Above and below the hexagon were orbs connected to the hexagon by a single strut and connected to the opposite orb on the same side by another strut.
Dropships had gone to each orb on the Type-II as well as the single hexagon. For the Type-II each hexagon and orb had gotten a heavy dropship. Each crew had orders to get to the central control area as well as gather up other data.
Drones had swept through the ships, pinpointing resistance as well as mapping the interior of the vessels, getting visual, registering power levels, taking atmospheric samples. Even ones destroyed by still functional enemies provided valuable data in the method and speed they were destroyed.
Now the dropships were recalled.
He glanced over.
KIA: 14
RIA: 9
WIA: 72
MIA: 0
While many commanders wouldn't stare at the KIA the way he was, many commanders weren't in his situation. The operation had ordered nearly a fifth of the Telkan Marines as well as nearly 800 Terrans.
Fourteen KIA wasn't bad when the operation had sent two thousand troops into a boarding action against an unknown enemy in deep space.
But he couldn't replace them. Yes, nine of the KIA had been returned to service via the SUDS and the cloning banks, but that was five troops he couldn't replace.
"All dropships away and have reached minimum safe distance," tactical advised.
N'Skrek nodded, glancing over at Admiral Legion.
"I'm no longer on board the enemy vessels," Admiral Legion said. He gave a chuckle. "I appreciate your concern."
N'Skrek just nodded again.
"Destroy the enemy," he said.
Admiral Legion put his hands on the edge of the holotank, leaning forward slightly.
The pose the slender bald Terran was using reminded N'Skrek of a predator about to pounce.
"Let's see if they bring any more," Legion said.
"If they don't?" N'Skrek asked.
"That tells us something," Admiral Legion said.
"If they do?" N'Skrek asked.
"That tells us something else," Admiral Legion said. He looked up, his smile a cruel knifeblade. "No matter what they do, I will learn something from them and eventually," he looked back into the holotank. "I'll know enough to destroy them."
N'Skrek just nodded.
0-0-0-0-0
Fifteen hours later found Admiral N'Skrek standing back on the Show Bridge, staring at the holotank.
Mar-gite Clusters in the Tetra-Cluster range were still entering the system. They coasted up to where the ruined charging frame was still tearing itself apart due to simple physics, coasted through the empty space, then moved two light minutes out before warping out.
Well, the ones that weren't destroyed by the drones firing singularity cannons.
Even the horrific damage inflicted by the singularity cannons weren't enough to completely destroy the Mar-gite Clusters and still quite a bit reached the warp point.
Admiral Legion left the elevator and sauntered up to the holotank.
"Sacajawea gave me the next set of jump coordinates," Admiral Legion said.
"Under protest, I assume," Admiral N'Skrek said.
Legion nodded. "I'm demanding directions to where the most death and destruction will be. She wants to send us to where there is the least," he shook his head. "I'm slowly getting her to look past the initial death and destruction to see beyond."
The Immortal reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"She had a complete hysterical meltdown when I got her to look past the immediate death and destruction of the 'safest' route, to see what lay down that road," he said. He let go of the bridge of his nose and looked up at N'Skrek. "That's when she saw where that road will lead. She completely melted down. I have her in one of the medbays under sedation."
"What was at the end of that road?" N'Skrek asked, even though he had a private bet with himself.
"Trillions, Sextillions of deaths. Of every species she's ever heard of and thousands she never has. Of the complete extermination of every member of the Confederacy," Legion said. He rubbed the top of his bald head.
N'Skrek wasn't happy that he won his private bet.
"The path of least death and destruction, in the immediate terms, results in the extermination of all non-Mar-gite life in the galaxy," Legion said. "Within a very short timeframe. A century at the most."
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
"So, we have to stop them," N'Skrek said.
"We have to do our part," Legion corrected. "Stopping what's already gotten by us? That's the Confederacy's job," he made a sweeping motion at the holotank. "We need to keep pushing forward, taking the war to the Mar-gite's masters now that we know they have masters."
N'Skrek nodded. "I have the science teams examining the bodies, the phasic data cores, and the data brought back from the most recent boarding actions."
Legion stared at the holotank for a moment as he used the keyboard built into the rim to type in coordinates. "About that, Admiral," Legion said.
"Yes?" N'Skrek saw the line connecting the Gray Lady's current position to another spot between the galactic arms.
This one was more toward the core than the others.
"I need one of the unused troop bays and unfettered access to at least one Class-XX Creation Engine," Legion said.
"To examine what we have recovered yourself," N'Skrek guessed.
Legion nodded. "Exactly," he finished typing and stepped back. "Sacajawea said this coordinate is about six light hours from the next set of charging rings," he gave a chuckle. "She's not happy about providing me with this data."
"I'll bet," N'Skrek said. He tapped on the keys, authorizing Legion an unused troop bay near one of the unused fabrication centers. "I'm authorizing you as the sole user of Fabrication Bay 39 and Troop Operations Bay 36."
Legion nodded. "You won't regret this," he said. He looked up and out the windows at the band of stars that made up the Scutum-Centaurus Arm. "I'm already starting work."
N'Skrek nodded, moving to in front of the windows and staring. Legion moved up next to him.
"My fleet is undergoing modernization, refit, and resupply," Legion said softly.
"When will it be available?" N'Skrek asked.
"It already is for us. What happens where my fleet is docked and what time it is here have no relation to one another," Legion said. "It would take a lecture of dimensional temporal mechanics to explain."
N'Skrek nodded, taking out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one.
He was surprised when Legion accepted the offer.
The Gray Lady made the jump to hyperspace.
0-0-0-0-0
Jaskel woke up slowly, his mouth tasting like glue and old shoe leather. He realized he was bound to the bed, only his head was free. He had tubes going into his nose and could feel tubes taped to the back of his head.
The nurse was a man with light brown skin, bald, with penetrating black eyes and a hawklike nose.
The doctor at the end of his bed was the same man, just in doctor's scrubs with a Captain's rank on his scrubs.
"Welcome back," the nurse said.
"Don't try to talk. Your language and speech centers are temporarily suppressed," the doctor said. He looked Jaskel in the eyes. "You suffered multiple phasic attack induced strokes."
The nurse gave a smile. "Luckily, I got to you before the blood pressure turned your brain to jello."
"No blood clots, just ruptured veins," the doctor said. "I even managed to save your eyes. While there was brain damage, a few weeks of physical therapy and a month or so of speech therapy and you should be good as new."
Jaskel just nodded.
"Unconscious congnitive tests showed excellent results," the doctor said.
The nurse held out a cup with a straw. Jaskel drank greedily until the nurse pulled the cup away.
"Risky maneuver, Cotton, shutting off your psychic shielding like that," the nurse said. He gave a grin. "But it paid off."
The doctor nodded. "And, for what it's worth, the damage to your brain as well as recordings of the phasic attack on your nervous system without a phasic shielding system in place provided a lot of data how that particular creature attacks with phasic energy and psychic powers."
"8814?" Jaskel managed to stutter out.
"He's fine. He's out of surgery. Nothing as bad as you had, but a few ichor vein ruptures. It didn't affect his telemechanics ability or his intellect," the nurse said.
The doctor nodded. "I operated on him while I was operating on everyone else," he gave a grin full of white teeth. "That's the advantage of having me around, I can do a lot of work at once."
Jaskel just frowned, confused.
"Rest up," the nurse said as the doctor left the room. The nurse gave him another drink off the straw. "Right now, sleep is what's best for you."
Jaskel just nodded. The nurse shifted the anesthetic beam projector.
"Nighty-night, champ."
0-0-0-0-0
Gunny Zolpad struggled against the bindings for a second before opening his eyes.
The doctor was a male Terran, brown skinned, bald, with brown eyes so dark they looked black.
The nurse was the same Terran.
"Welcome back, Gunny," the nurse said.
The doctor was looking over a datapad.
"Your surgery went well," the nurse said. "Minor brain bleeds that would have been fatal after a few hours, but I was able to provide treatment almost immediately."
"There is one issue," the doctor said, looking up from the datapad.
"What?" Gunny Zolpad rasped.
The nurse held out a cup with a straw and Zolpad took slow sips, swishing the fluid around in his mouth to wash away the drymouth and gross tastes.
"You have memory blocks. Sophisticated stuff, but obvious to someone like me who is treating a patient for psychic warfare injury," the doctor said. "They've been there for decades, locking up what looks like at least a decade of memories."
Zolpad nodded.
"I relocked them and while I was doing so, I researched and discovered that the tags on them were from the Telkan government," the doctor said. "Normally used for nearly untreatable criminality."
Zolpad just nodded.
"I scanned a few memories," the doctor said.
"Against medical privacy laws," Zolpad said, his voice hoarse and rough.
The doctor shrugged. "I'm an Immortal. I do as I please," the doctor said.
"Immortal?" Zolpad asked.
The nurse held out the cup with the straw.
"Biological Apostle of the Digital Omnimessiah, one of the Terran Immortals? None of that ring a bell?" the doctor asked.
Zolpad shook his head.
"Damn," the Terran shook his head. "Being dead I can handle, but being forgotten? That's a bitch."
Zolpad just shrugged, looking at the nurse. "Not clones?"
The nurse shook his head. "Not... exactly."
Two more nurses stepped out of the nurse smoothly, like they had been standing behind him. Two men in old style adaptive camouflage stepped out from them. Then they all fell into black powder that swirled around the nurse's legs, twinkled, and vanished.
"I..." the Terran paused. "Am Legion."
Zolpad just stared.
The doctor gave a deep, heaving sigh. "Now I know how Dee feels."
The curtain parted and a version of the nurse and doctor came in, dressed in old style Confederate adaptive camouflage, carrying a dataslate. Zolpad could see the military intelligence insignia on the collar with a set of major's clusters on the other.
The major tapped at the dataslate.
"While I replaced the mental blocks and memory blocks, I just wanted to know a few things," the doctor said. He shook his head. "We'll give you some privacy."
Zolpad nodded as the nurse and doctor left.
The major looked at him. "A quick cursory check to see if the memories were still intact or had degraded to the point where your brain would overwrite them naturally showed that the memories were all regarding an armed conflict in the Telkan Systems."
Zolpad nodded.
"War crimes?" the major asked.
Zolpad nodded.
"Committed or endured?"
"Both."
"One memory was of lining up civilians and troops against a wall and machinegunning them," the Major said.
"Probably toward the end. It got ugly," Zolpad said, refusing to look away from the Terran's gaze.
"It happens," the Terran said. "Your service record shows nothing but outstanding service. Your brain isn't that of a Telkan who commits war crimes for fun and sport."
Zolpad just looked away.
"I'd recommend more therapy," the Terran said. "We're facing a psychicly active enemy. It'll rip through those blocks and beat you to death with those memories."
Zolpad nodded. "It tried."
"The Gray Lady isn't going anywhere fast and this may be a one way trip," the Terran said. He shut off the dataslate and lowered it. "Look me up if you want those blocks removed and want therapy."
Zolpad nodded, just staring at the medical equipment next to his bed.
"A nurse will be along shortly to move you from recovery to a room," the major said.
Zolpad just stared.
The Terran left.
come home to broodmommy