“All missiles threatening the Craton destroyed!” an officer called out.
“Hev ships one minute until witnessing our light,” another told her.
Siilon considered briefly, pressing her hands together a moment and contemplating, before rising to her full height.
“Contact the Fesha ship,” she ordered. “FTL, open channel.”
No one questioned her, despite the oddity of the order. They had a decisive advantage at the moment – they could launch attacks on the Maig before they even knew that her force was here, cutting the time they had to react.
But she had a different idea in mind.
The channel was opened, and she caught the surprise of the Fesha Captain, who would not see the light of their ship for at least two hours.
“Sepht Captain, what an unexpected surprise. May I inquire-“
“I am calling to inform you that the Mopu System is now an active theater of war,” she said, cutting the being off. “I am ordering you, for your safety, to leave immediately.”
The Captain took several long moments to answer, clearly looking off to the side for information – probably his systems trying to figure out who she was.
Let them look and know her, she thought. They’d shiver all the more when they learned.
“Ah, Commodore Siilon, we take your sincere concern to heart, yet we feel our safety is already assured with your gracious-“
“Not acceptable,” she said, and leaned over to speak to one of her officers. “Have the Ring Ship send two of our tugs over to the Fesha. I want them out of my warzone, even if they have to drag them out. Send two cruisers with them.”
Alarm went over the Fesha’s face. “You would not dare to drag our ship-“
“It is my discretion what I shall do,” she told him coldly. “You will leave this warzone – one way or another. You will do it alive and unharmed, whether you like it or not.”
And, most importantly, they would not get to stay and observe the fight from close range.
“We find this most ungracious and injurious and will be filing a grievance, Commodore! We shall leave, only because of your barbarous threats to our dignity-“
“Siilon out,” she said, and cut the transmission.
A sensor officer looked up. “Their transmission wavering at the end suggests they’re lighting up for a burn – likely away from us and out of system.”
“Make sure they actually do it. Have the Hev seen us yet?”
“Not yet, Commodore – but they surely heard that.”
“Good,” she replied.
It meant they knew they’d just started a war.
“Contact the flagship of the Dessei.”
It was opened, and she looked at the Moth-Owl, who seemed solemn – though she thought they always appeared that way, showing only emotion with their crest of feathers. For her kind, who rippled with color and writhing tentacles to portray endless moods and emotions, it always made them hard to read.
But she knew from the look of the one before her – Councilor Tallei – that he was unsure. Despite being in command of his people’s fleet, he was a politician, not an admiral.
“With your permission, Councilor,” she said.
He gave her a sharp nod. “You may, Commodore. Glory to the Republic!”
“And may the currents be with us,” she replied.
Keeping the line open, she turned to her crew.
“Target lock every capital ship in their fleet,” she said. “Fire all missiles – I demand a first strike that will leave them bereft of hope. Artillery ships, prepare long-range smartshells, aim for maximum effect.”
“Aye!” her crew replied, calling as one.
The effect draw a smile to her face.
The massive artillery ships moved ahead from the fleet, their enormous coilguns charging. When they fired, streaks of light emerged, disappearing out of sight even faster than the waves of missiles already headed out.
“The Maig have visual on us,” a sensor officer called. “They are attempting to regroup stragglers of the Overlord’s fleet . . . Forming a new battle line facing us.”
“How long until impacts of the first volleys?”
“Missiles – one more minute. First volleys of coilgun shots should impact in moments.”
The Hev, far from taking evasive maneuvers, were moving into a tight defensive formation. It was a rookie mistake, an artifact, she knew, of the damage the Craton had inflicted upon the Maig. Without an experienced leader, under the stress they were experiencing, they were reverting to the kind of defensive attitude of their ancient ancestors.
It could happen to anyone, really, caught out of their depth.
And it meant they were lining up perfectly to be hit.
“Have the Ringship send a probe through. I want to see it in real time,” she said.
Siilon had been called bloodthirsty in uncharitable circumstances, and though it was not true, there were times the reputation was useful. Even now, she did not feel joy at the thought of slaughtering the P’G’Maig.
But she did need to know what havoc they inflicted.
The Ringship activated its massive zerodrive, sending through only a handful of drones that could report back in nearly real-time. It was a massive waste of power in some senses, and even a ringship with its massive cooling fins and dozens of reactors and geometry optimized in every way to allow for such passages at will could only open so many portals before it had to take a break.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
As the feed came back, though, she saw that it was worth it.
“Impacts!” the sensor operator called, before the image resolved. She was working off the timing, and the math was correct.
The smart shells were bursting, showering the Hev formation with thousands of small pieces of hypervelocity shot. Each small piece would do less damage, but also dump more of its energy into the enemy ships, and increase the chance of hitting something important.
One ship had a gout of plasma out of its side, and she surmised that a reactor had been hit. Another had rippling explosions go across its flank as something was set off internally. Others had very little visible reaction, save for lights flickering, going off, and a clear lack of command and control.
The thought of how many she’d just killed or maimed came to mind, though the impact was superficial as of yet. She’d contemplate on it later, perhaps feel something, and then move on.
“Missiles incoming in one minute,” she was told.
The Hev formation had far less of a defense against them than even she expected. The missiles were nearly unchecked as they smashed and blew apart vital infrastructure on the largest ships, even weaving around the smaller vessels that tried bravely to put themselves in the path to take the hits for their brethren.
“All missiles accounted for – 82.5% successful hit rate!”
There was more cheering across the bridge.
“P’G’Maig forces are routing! Withdrawing in disorganization, Commodore!” the gunnery officer called.
“Shall we fire another salvo, complete their defeat?” her first mate asked. “Perhaps a nuclear lance strike?”
She saw that the Hev had noticed the observation drones she’d sent in, and warnings of lock-ons by defensive lasers were detected-
The feeds cut out.
“No,” Siilon said finally to her first mate. “Let them run.”
----------------------------------------
Three hours later, the P’G’Maig Hev contacted Commodore Siilon and requested a cease-fire.
The request was granted, and what followed was, in my view, an extremely contrite apology from Overlord Ks’Kull. The attempts on my life, as well as that of Ambassadors Kell and Decinus, Dr. Logus, as well as the entire crew of the Craton were, according to him, “the carefully-planned result of a traitor who had sought to destroy his reputation and ruin the chances for peace”. He even showed the corpse of the supposed traitor, another body-double, and offered to hand it over along with two thousand sacrificial officers for us to mete out our revenge upon.
His offer was not accepted, but the peace has held, and his forces have begun a withdrawal from this front.
At the end of the day, there are thirty-three dead on the Craton and over two hundred seriously injured – ten of whom still cling to life by a thread. This includes Dr. Arn Logus, who is in critical condition and under Dr. Y’s personal care.
Ambassador Decinus has already been discharged, and though he still has healing to do, the man gave me his sincere thanks.
Among the Hev, the death count is not known for certain. Our best guess has over 380,000 of the P’G’Maig dead. It is a drop in the bucket, but that so many were lost largely to the Craton is thought to have made the Overlord second-guess his rash decisions.
The T’H’Tul Hev we came to save have contacted us now as well. As part of the cease-fire, the P’G’Maig have dropped their interference and we have been able to freely communicate with them. Ambassador N’Keeea has begun talks to bring his people out of the system with the help of the Sapient Union.
None of us believe that the P’G’Maig will drop their claim to the system, and the peace is still tenuous, long-term.
But hopes are high that this all will make some difference in the end.
----------------------------------------
“Ambassador N’Keeea, are these terms acceptable to your people?”
N’Keeea sat next to Brooks in his office, while a number of other beings were present in projected form. Siilon stood watching, largely quiet, along with Councilor Tallei of the Dessei.
N’Keeea rose to his feet, and gave a nod. “I have spoken to the survivors of my people – and they are prepared to accept this offer.”
“Even Supreme General G’Kaackt?” Brooks asked.
N’Keeea turned to him. “G’Kaackt is no longer Supreme General. In the . . . excitement, it seems that a tragic accident befell him. In his stead is Acting Supreme General K’Tekek. He has given me full powers of negotiation.” A small smile went briefly over N’Keeea’s face. “It seems I am viewed quite positively by those who still live.”
“I am pleased that your people have agreed to evacuate,” Tallei said. “The Dessei Republic are willing to send transport ships to aid your people, and assist you in relocating into uninhabited sectors under our control.”
“I must thank you, Councilor,” N’Keeea said, though Brooks could tell there was some displeasure in him. He hid it well, but the Dessei had originally rejected N’Keeea’s plea for assistance. Now, it seemed somewhat opportunistic.
“Do we know how the Maig feel about this?” Siilon asked, speaking up. “They may try to launch some sort of attack or provocation to justify attacking the Tul once they are in the open.”
“Unlikely,” N’Keeea replied. “Ks’Kull, endless curses upon his name, is facing significant internal strife at his failure to achieve his stated goals. It is in part due to this, and the shameful fact that he was forced to ask for a cease-fire that have placated the honor of my people. He is in no condition to attack.”
“Do you think there will be any other hold-outs who refuse to go?” Brooks asked.
“We predict that the vast majority of survivors will choose to leave.”
“And those that don’t?” Brooks persisted.
“They will fight to the very last Hev when the P’G’Maig resume their assault,” N’Keeea said. His tone portrayed no emotion.
“It is as good an ending as any of us could hope for,” Siilon said.
“I suppose,” Brooks replied, his stomach still clenching slightly. Out of the ten billion or so left, how many would stay and die out of an ancient sense of honor?
“The civilian government will transmit lists of survivors beginning tomorrow morning,” N’Keeea continued. “Commodore Siilon, will your fleet be willing to stay for a time to be absolutely sure that the D’Y’Maig behave appropriately?”
It took Brooks a moment to realize what the new honorifics that N’Keeea has put onto the Maig meant.
D’ implied cowardice and Y’ failures.
He wondered how long the peace could really last.
The meeting ended, and N’Keeea wrung his hand.
“I put all my hopes in your hands, Captain Brooks,” the Hev told him. “It seems that I trusted wisely.”
Brooks smiled, sincerely. “I am glad for you, and for your people, Ambassador. I hope nothing but success and prosperity for you all.”
“We shall yet see. Perhaps one day we will be the ones to exterminate the D’Y’Maig, eh?”
N’Keeea laughed, and walked from the room, while Brooks felt his stomach flip-flopping.
After the Ambassador had left, he turned to look where Siilon had been. “Are you still there?”
“Of course,” the Sepht said, her image reappearing. “It seems the little Ambassador has regained his teeth, eh? Do not worry, I shall keep an eye on him. We will not be pushed into a true war, even if there are attempts.”
“I’m glad,” Brooks said. “I’m afraid the Craton can’t take another beating like that so soon.”
“Will she take long to repair? I’d rather like to see you humiliate Ks’Kull again, in all honesty,” Siilon replied with a laugh. “You truly shamed him.”
“That was the idea,” Brooks said. “His life was mine, and I let him live. It was as strong a move as I could make.”
“Short of killing him,” Siilon said.
“Even if I could have without destroying the Craton – no. Someone else would have vowed revenge and come after us. Only after that would the power struggle begin in earnest. By making him flee, I set him against all the potential usurpers.”
Siilon considered that thoughtfully. “If N’Keeea’s rumors are true, then Ks’Kull may not have much time left to him.”
“We’ll see just how vicious he is. If he falls, let’s hope whoever takes his place isn’t worse,” Brooks said.
He cleared his throat. “Speaking of trouble, though – I have been worrying about just how much you’ve gotten into. Don’t get me wrong – I am grateful for the rescue. But you broke your government’s orders.”
Siilon grinned. “Oh, no, I followed them to the letter. It’s simply that I got new ones ordering me to go in.”
“And how did you manage that?” Brooks asked, agog. He knew, for certain, that she had somehow pulled off the feat.
“It was not the hardest maneuver,” Siilon replied. “I simply dropped some hints to Dessei contacts that the Craton was in dire straits – with the daughter of Solon Maara aboard. When the Solon learned, she was very persuasive to her government . . . and when the Dessei sent help, I informed my government of that fact.”
“. . . And they rushed to match the Dessei’s solidarity,” Brooks surmised.
“Oh, yes. You are very lucky that our governments are so adversarial, Ian. Neither wishes to be made to look bad compared to the other.”
Brooks chuckled. “Well played, Commodore.”
“There’s a reason I earned this badge,” she replied.
“And why you’ll go no higher,” he joked back.
She laughed. “Oh, clear seas – no, I would never want that. I might end up with more paperwork than I could delegate!”