Gruda pulled off his work aboard a crop harvester and sat on the side of it, peering out into the horizon as he brought out his lunch and personal tablet. He ate a breaded meal with vegetation, artificially concocted meats in the center, and a drink brewed from mildly stimulating beans.
He worked the fields for a moderately small farming company and was currently harvesting wheat crops for the local processing plant. It was one of the few within a few square miles as his area recently lost some workers due to personal issues arising from the core worlds so, they were finding it difficult to fill the positions.
“Just about halfway done, and I’ll be done for the day!” he said, taking another bite and loading the latest in Sellian News.
There were reports in the Lassus system of automated worker drones going haywire, killing several pedestrians at Lasu Station.
The article made his stomach fly, and he felt uneasy as he read. He was glad he worked with a relatively low-tech vehicle. It was simple to work on and use and didn't utilize many wireless systems the more advanced companies used.
He was an avid browser of forums online about space and would read numerous articles about the Terrans. He was always skeptical of propaganda from the council whenever they issued live broadcast statements. The latest one, however, didn't stick right with him.
They've issued numerous statements about a growing threat from their outermost colonies, his colony included. Since he was young, he was always reserved about fighting for extermination, as said in a previous statement some time last year.
When an alarm rang, he continued his work in the harvester until night fell, and he returned his work belongings.
Gruda lived far from the town in a modest home in the hills. When night fell, only the moon illuminated the sky.
His night routine was minor; he bathed, ate, and read on the forums. He led a simple life and when to bed. When he awoke, his tablet was blowing up with notifications. The night was late, and he had roughly two hours before work, but he pressed one such item, and the screen changed to a static-filled video from a bird's-eye view. The image was clear enough, but it showed hundreds of Sellian troops rounding up people he was unfamiliar with into large cargo ships before taking off. Others that looked too old or sick were shot and left to rot where they stood.
He knew many of those ships with the brand of chains apparent on the side of the hull. They were slaver ships.
“Slaving? By Sellians?” he said to himself, “But that's impossible…”
Sellians weren't known for slaving as they were one of the few to outlaw it among their own people. The only race he knew to be virulent slavers were the Toska. A race of bipeds like the Sellians but were stockier with bellies of fat. They were covered in hair and had tusks extending from the outer part of their mouth. And they always stunk.
Gruda had some encounters with them back when he worked in the larger space stations of Trill and Lasu. They also lived near their border with the Galactic Union but mainly operated as individuals instead of a group. They had a history of working for the military, taking what slaves they procured and placing them on the market of their Guild.
“To think this was being done…by our own council…”
He tried to call his work on the developments but found his call being dropped at the first ring. He tried to notify his family and friends and found no transmission could send.
He got into his personal vehicle and drove towards the town. It had a small cab for tor three and a slat bed in the back for items. The crowds filled the streets with confused bystanders, each asking themselves the same questions. Gruda made his way to his work, where members began to convene. Many just woke up and came to the work office with nothing but their sleepwear.
“My device was blowing up! Then, when I opened them, I came straight here,” one said, followed by another.
“I tried calling a friend from Lasu, but nothing went through! Are the relays under repair?”
“What is the military doing?” Gruda asked.
He knew Verbus was a staging system for their ships, and the planet they resided on, Tola, was a well-known military planet. Much of their communications were also routed through them, so they were primarily responsible for its maintenance.
A display on the wall had come to life in the main office, and a disembodied voice spoke in broken Sellian until it eventually gained clarity.
The image on the screen was just a cluster of dots and squares in a circle that reacted to the voice.
“I…am… Athene. Your communications are under my control, and your navy has been destroyed. Surrender or become collateral.”
There was austere silence among the crew. Some left immediately to their homes, and the rest stayed behind with the now blank monitor.
“There's no way the navy was defeated, right?” one remaining member asked.
“I don't know, but I have a sneaking suspicion the council had something to do with this,” Gruda responded.
The messages on his device ceased a while ago, but one more message appeared on the tablet. The same happened to those nearby, and they played the message. Instead of a disembodied voice or recirculating footage from earlier, it was a live feed.
The person on the screen looked similar to them, but their eyes were small, the areas around their eyes were white, and their iris was colored amber. Their skin was lightly tanned, and wrinkles were apparent. He wore a small cap with the symbol of a wreath, a spread bird with a star at the top that shone with a silver luster.
“Attention, citizens of Tola. I am Vice Admiral Wolf. Commander of the fleet that has subdued your navy and ordered your communications to be shut down. All non-military residents are advised to return to their homes and remain indoors,” the voice spoke in a language they didn't understand but was quickly dubbed in a Sellian accent.
They did as advised and returned to their homes. Gruda took his vehicle, and as he drove through the town, chaos erupted, and all who walked the streets rushed to their homes while others took it as a chance to loot from the local stores. Local authorities tried to curb the chaos but failed to contain it on a large scale.
When Gruda made it to his house, he took what magnifying optics he had and waited outside his home. The sun had begun to rise into the sky, giving color to the once monotone pallet of the night. It was met with a grand display of large hills filled with tall flowing grass that wafted to the breeze of the wind.
He looked to his right within a clearing, and a large device pointed to the sky blinked a red light at 6-second intervals. It was their local ground-to-space relay, and the local military outpost surrounded it.
He looked to the skies and found no evidence of battles flashing above him. He waited, as did all the denizens of the nearby town. Plumes of smoke arose from the city, but all Gruda could do was watch.
The man who spoke in the video looked like the people from earlier in the morning when Gruda watched as many war torn innocents boarded the Toska slave ships. If the Council employed them, their people were paying for it in wrath.
As he peered into the sky, he heard a high-pitched hum and tried to search for the source. He looked at what he thought was the source but only saw the sky. Then, with a sudden boom and a plume of smoke, the area surrounding the relay was attacked, and he finally saw the ships that did it.
They were large with wings like that of a bird. But they were fast in the sky and left just as quickly as they showed up, and a new series of ships showed up.
Instead of the aerodynamic frame of the bombers, they were slightly smaller with a blocky look to them. Instead of wings, they sported variable square-mounted thrusters. He took photos as they passed but came out blurry with only the basic silhouette.
They descended on the compound before disappearing behind the buildings. Faint sounds of sharp cracks filled the air. During this time, he took video of just before the ships landed and when the sounds of gunshots erupted.
As he was filming, large ships descended from the sky and moved to areas beyond his vision, and one parked itself above the town. The buildings were modest, and none reached the sky like many core worlds with metropolitan cities. Its imposing frame hung above with a black finish and white stripes that ran down the side. Characters were written on the side, but he knew not what they meant.
It looked like a predator with its maw agape, and fear took him.
“N-no wonder t-the navy lost!” He began to laugh hysterically. “What did we do to anger such a foe?”
He knew the answer to that question, hoping for someone to answer. He then saw ships descend from the beast into what he remembered to be the main square.
He got in his vehicle and drove to town. He was met with crowded streets and many on-top buildings and vehicles in the direction of where the ships landed. The local Authorities barricaded the square in a firing line, trying to keep the citizens away and setting their sights on the square with their hand-held firearms.
The ships had already landed when Gruda began going on foot. It took him several minutes to push his way through to where the authorities were pushing back citizens. They separated the crowd and the firing line with barricades and their vehicles.
The ships that had landed had their noses tapered to a point, as if intentional, like a display. A small gun was mounted beneath the nose of the ship that swiveled left and right in a 180-degree arc. The sides of the ships were open, and two people in green and full-faced helmets mounted a gun on either side of the craft.
Dozens of soldiers with rifles, sleek in design with a silver top frame and black underbelly, made their way in a circular fashion of the craft, covering all angles. They donned green armor similar to the door gunners. Unlike their infantry forces, they covered the entirety of the body. Their helmets were open-faced, however, and some wore colored glasses around their eyes; pauldrons and gauntlets were contoured to their respective anatomy. The same went for their legs; their greaves were slim and offered protection in their entirety. As did the chest. It exemplified their figure and made them out as hulking warriors compared to the authorities before them.
Gruda felt that the small arms of the police would do nil against their armor and saw it as futile. When all was settled, a man donning a suit with gray and dark blue accents walked to the group's center, flanked by two of the same soldiers, their rifles resting across their chests.
“Attention, Citizens of Tola,” He spoke, a device in hand that projected his voice from the ships behind him, “I am Commander Randal, and we come in peace with no intention to harm the innocent denizens of your world. We have struck only the military infrastructure of this planet and wish no further harm to the citizens!”
When he paused, screams and yells from the crowd surfaced. They called for the retribution of the soldiers thought to have been slaughtered, but the man, Randal, pulled up a video on a portable display.
It was a video of the soldiers from the bases that had been attacked placed in a formation on their knees and their hands over their heads. Another view from a ship's hangar showed the survivors from life pods detained similarly. They had taken prisoners on both fronts. Gruda felt they would execute them live, but they didn't.
“My People are willing to extend a hand of diplomacy to your race, unlike what your leaders extended to us. We ask that they answer for their crimes against Humanity. Now, may I speak to your leader?”
'What do they think an outer colony like us can influence? We grow food and mine resources…' Gruda thought to himself. It was a thought most likely shared between the others present.
Randal grew visibly irritated when no one presented themselves, and tensions rose among the police with their weapons. He knew the planet's governor was a coward, and his office was part of the local town, but not revealing himself frustrated the enemy. Such an action could result in them turning on their word and firing into the masses.
Gruda was non-confrontational, and he liked to keep it that way. Military? He did well to avoid re-enlistment, even with the propaganda from Councilman Polas and his grand speeches. The only way for him to be relatively safe was to find a home and work in an outer colony away from the Union and the Core Worlds.
He found a break in the distracted line of police and made his way to the man and soldiers. The two trained their rifles on him, and he stopped short of the stone steps with his hands in the air. The crowd objected to him being before the invader.
“Gruda! What are you thinking?!” He heard a call from behind the line.
It was a coworker that he had exchanged brief interactions with, but he pulled a hand up to quell their cries and returned to the man before him. He took a large breath, unknown of what fate would bring him, but resolved himself in the face of a terrifying enemy and place of a cowering governor.
He had wanted to be alone but found that it might not be possible. Whatever the council commanded, he sought to correct it. He only needed a push.
“I…am Gruda. Former War Chief-Commander of the War Council of Sellia.”
He was then taken aboard one of the ships of the mysterious men on one of the ships that landed in the square. A bag was placed over his head as he was transported to what he deemed to be their ship. He found himself at a long table fit for eighteen people with a single chair at the ends and eight that ran the length of the table.
He wasn't bound with chains but instead sat at a chair near the head of the table. The table was within a room about quadruple its size, with guards placed at the corners. A single entrance was placed at the far end of the room opposite where he sat.
He was nervous as the guards present were utterly different from the ones he rode with from the city. They wore black colored armor with a blotted gray/black pattern on the cloth beneath with a helmet that shone his reflection in a dark-purple hue. He also noted that their shoulders bore a contrast of white, unknown to their purpose.
Their weapons were compact, with a large barrel on the end that seemed too large for a standard weapon. Moreover, it differed from the rifles of the green soldiers on the way up with the skinny barrel he was familiar with. That, combined with their still composure and silence, unnerved him.
His unease was relieved when the door opened. Commander Randal entered, followed by another soldier similar to those in the room. He bore gold on his shoulder and markings on his armor that said he was no stranger to combat and perhaps thought the person in question reveled in it. Then, several more characters entered, each in matching gray and dark blue attire, some with stacks of ribbons on their left and some with only a few. They all took their seats, leaving the end chair beside him empty.
“Attention on deck!”
Randal commanded those words as a person entered the door, and everyone jumped up from their seats with their legs together and their hands to their sides. The exception was the guards on duty with their hands around the grip and the grip near the front of the weapon.
“At ease,” the man in question replied. He had greying hair, but the color of amber was still present, and years of age were showing upon his face.
That man took his seat beside him at the head of the table. He was surrounded by beings much taller than him, standing at least a head and some over him.
“Then, let's begin,” spoke Randal.
He introduced the people in the room, all the heads of their departments. Operations, weapons, tactical, security, raider, etc. All were departments related to combat. Then it came to Gruda's turn They stared at him, and he stood, finding the words to speak.
“I am Gruda,” he started, “Field worker on Tola and former War-Chief Commander under the War Council of Sellia.”
A hand was raised by a woman in charge of operations, “What exactly is the ranking structure of your people, and where does a War-Chief Commander stand?”
He knew they were trying to probe him but was hesitant to reveal their structure. The woman continued, “I apologize if it seems probing, so I can give you a rundown of our ranking structure.”
She gave a simple breakdown of enlisted and officers and how they varied from branch to branch and tried to streamline for their guest.
He felt relieved and prefaced his explanation with some guarantees, “Fine, I can reveal that to you, but I need assurance.” To which they nodded, especially the man beside him.
“What do you plan to do with the non-combative populace? I need to know you will not needlessly slaughter my people who do not deserve it…” He said, awaiting a response that felt like ages when the man beside him spoke.
“Don’t worry,” Wolf now spoke, “I, as Vice Admiral of this battle group, solemnly swear no intentional harm will come to those in non-combat roles. It is against our laws if that serves as any reassurance.”
It did its job, and his words felt sincere.
Gruda began,
“I have seen what my military has done to your people, and it sickens me they would reduce themselves to such dishonorable tactics. But back to the topic, there are few ranks before the first rank of someone that leads, which is the title of War Chief. Which belongs to someone in charge of a small group, such as one large ship accompanied by fighters. Next would be a Chief-Captain, one in charge of a medium-sized accompaniment of large war vessels and fighters. And the final would be a War Chief-Commander. A title usually reserved for those who would lead the larger groups of vessels to combat or a smaller, more specialized group…”
He noticed they were taking notes when he trailed off to a pause. He waited until they were done before continuing, “However, there is one more above that which is commanding the largest fleets: a War Chief-General. Its title is only bestowed upon a war chief most suited to command an invasion force.”
“Even a War Chief can be granted the title of Chief-General?” Asked Randal, to which Gruda nodded.
“Yes, although it is rare. But I know only of one the War Council would appoint to lead their invasion force… War Chief Torlak…”
The group looked at each other, with another from Tactical inquiring, “So you're saying the lowest ranked War Chief was granted the title of Chief General, and they weren't a Captain or Commander?”
Gruda nodded again, “I have known Torlak for many cycles in the Sellian Fleet. He has turned down promotions to Captain and Commander, but a promotion to General is irrefutable. In essence, he was forcibly promoted by the council.”
“Who exactly is the council?” spoke the armored soldier with gold markings, introduced as 1st Lieutenant O'Brian.
“They are…the governing body of all Sellians. We are a militarily focused species that has excelled in space combat against the Galactic Union.”
More signs of confusion arose. Questions on the council and the union were now heavily inquired, but the Vice Admiral silenced them.
“Let me start off with the council. They comprise five bodies; the Logistics councilman, Breka; the diplomat, Galem; the military advisor, Reka; and the council's voice, Polas. The final is the Head councilman and the final word on all matters, Kallim. They are the current War Council and are most likely responsible for the decision to invade your species…”
The room was quiet when Wolf raised a hand to speak.
“What is your relation to the council, and why did you feel it necessary to step in for the governing body of Tola?”
Gruda hung his head in shame but spoke, “I am old, although I look young; after our fight with the Galactic Union not too long ago, I ended my service. However, Councilman Polas has issued numerous speeches denouncing your race for nonsensical reasons. Therefore, I cannot sit back and watch as they continue a needless battle against a fellow space-faring species, especially when they are not of the Union,” he said with disgust.
“Then what can you tell us about the Galactic Union?” O'Brian inquired, his stare piercing Gruda and his scars fueling an innate fear.
Gruda gulped, “They are a vast collection of races on the other side of Sellian space,” he paused, “Their composition is made up of races that pride themselves in conquering savage races and using them for their ground troops.”
The room was silent. Notes were taken, and soft words were spoken between themselves, “What…do you mean?” inquired Randal, “You mean they enslave other races and use them for combat?”
He nodded, “We didn't spend much time with them, but they were keen to enslave races that are adept in combat. They usually enslave those kinds early on before they reach space. They met us when we were already space-faring, and our fleets were large enough to dissuade their advances.”
They analyzed Gruda with what seemed like intense scrutiny. He found it better to reveal what he knew about the union, as little as it seemed to him. He continued, “It doesn't make sense, but when you have a collection of races that look at anything bigger than them as a threat and will actively investigate how to subdue them.”
He sat back down, letting his exposition marinate.
“Athena,” Wolf spoke into the air, and a disembodied voice replied, with their figure hidden, “Is what he says true?”
“With my recent data rendezvous with my sub-routine, I can say that what the honorable Mr. Gruda says is truthful.”
Wolf turned to him, “Then, how would you like to work for us, as an honorary ensign? I can't guarantee your personal safety, but If you have any family, we can work to remove them from the battlefield to a safe location. What do you say?”
Gruda pondered his words. He thought of his parents, who have long passed. His aunts and uncles were nothing but estranged.
“I have a younger sister… but she lives in our cradle world, Sellia. She and her children live on the outskirts of the capital of Artray. I can provide coordinates if that helps.”
“It does. We'll take them into our custody until our fight with Sellia has concluded.” Wolf assured when a message came from Lumi, the ship-born AI, came before Wolf and the Commander.
“Commander! Vice Admiral! We detect Sellian naval vessels inbound! Enemy vessels number a small group led by a Chief-Captain! Quite bold! Quite Bold!!!”
“Do we have Ships en route?” replied Randal.
“We do! Magnetic Accelerators are primed! And broadside cannons are loaded! Awaiting enemy approach!!!” again, replied the joyful turquoise icon.
“Hail them to stand down. If they refuse, take them out,” ordered Wolf, to which Lumi responded, “Will do! Will Do!” with a bounce at every tone.
“W-what was that?” Gruda inquired.
“A… Personal assistant.” Wolf said in a cold tone, to which Gruda nodded. Whatever it was, they would rather not reveal too much about it, and he was okay with it.
“What do you plan to do with the incoming fleet?” he asked worriedly.
“Disable them, and have them surrender. But if it comes down to it, we must annihilate them.” replied the commander as the table began their departure to their station. Gruda thought of the implication of teaming with who was supposed to be his enemy. He had heard the broadcasts before and knew what Polas was trying to do. But his time on the forums and working a quiet life has led him to think that what the council is doing is wrong. With the footage of what his people were doing to innocent civilians is too much for him to bear.
His sister has children, and he would want nothing more than their safety. ‘To do the same with a species they had just met, and their initial reaction was to enslave? That made them no better than the Union.’
He followed Wolf and Randal to the bridge, which he was granted access to under strict supervision. They viewed the system, and he noticed the blue dots around the planet in their own groups. They were on an intercept course of the Sellian ships now traveling sub-light to Tola.
“Sir, we've isolated all inter-system transmissions. No one will be coming to help them,” one crewman reported.
Gruda noticed the overall atmosphere of the bridge. It was serious and focused. He had been on many ships and remembered that his crew would only maintain such expressions if they were numerically superior. As soon as they started taking heavy losses, they would buckle, and mistakes would be made, at least among their newest members. Even though the display said they were at a numerical disadvantage, they held their bearing and diligently completed their tasks. It was jarring for Gruda.
“Officers! Officers! Enemy exiting sub-light! Hailing!!!” Lumi appeared on the holo-table as her simple form bounced from side to side, “Hail answered! Destruction averted! Hooray!”
She said, most likely referring to the delayed destruction of the Sellian fleet. As they popped out of their intra-system travel mode, they were flanked by a series of Terran ships with their cannons aimed at all available enemy ships. The comms officer then reported that a line was opened with the leader of the small battle group.
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“I am Chief Captain Dalogon! You hail us over an occupied planet! What do you want?” he said in an irritated tone, “We have come because we have received a message that you might be here…”
Wolf was the first to step forward to the screen behind us, with Dalogon's visage in full display, “I would recommend you do nothing brash. It would only result in your destruction.”
“Then what do you want of us?” replied the Chief-Captain.
“Surrender yourself and your ships, and no harm will come to you or your crew,” commanded the age naval officer.
Dalogon thought for a moment and replied, “You much know that I cannot do that. It would be dishonorable among my troops.”
Meanwhile, analysts and comms officers said they already had targets lined up and had isolated their flagship. Enemy fighters also began to launch from their ships, but the Terrans foresaw this and already began their countermeasures.
“How unfortunate. Then may the best fleet win,” The call was cut off, and Wolf began issuing orders, “Athena, is your sub-routine linked to their ships?” her form materialized beside the turquoise-colored oval Lumi. To Gruda, she looked like the Terrans but sported vastly different clothing, in an ancient sense.
“From approximately six months ago,” replied the AI, “While my sub-routine is still within their systems, I can access whatever it is you need.”
“Disable their shields and malfunction their fighters,” Wolf ordered, and the AI replied with an elegant bow. Reports came in of the fighters losing power to their engines, and some would have their shields overload resulting in an unfortunate fiery death.
The Terran ships fired their cannons mixed with automated turret fire and missiles. The shields employed by the Sellians were non-existent, and their fighters were taking heavy losses. In short, it was a slaughter.
The Sellian fleet comprised several cruisers, frigates, and battleships. They were all equipped with fighters, but they were quickly put out of commission. Wolf ordered boarding parties for the flagship of Dalogon, and a ship equipped for such a function was launched.
The battle continued to rage, with the guns from the Sellian ships firing into the Terrans. Their shots would connect, but their impacts were light compared to the pure destructive power from the cannons of the Terrans.
They have a destructive yield unseen in Sellian ships to date. There would be footage of a volley from one of the heavy battleships that would initially pierce a Sellian hull and begin to melt with sparks emitting from the entry. Then Gruda saw large molten metal and technology vent into the void with the flame sticking to surfaces.
“W-what is that!?” Gruda exclaimed.
“The good 'ole A.P.H.E.N.T.N.T. round. Also known as the Dragon's Wrath. A truly devastating weapon,” Wolf said with pride.
“Whatever prompted your species to create something so devastating?!” Gruda inquired.
“I can answer that!” Lumi reappeared and bobbed as she spoke, “For centuries, humanity has created all sorts of ammunition to fell their enemies! This began with the advent of the tank in the 20th century during one of their bloodiest conflicts! Millions of their own! Dead!”
“Is that true?” he looked to Wolf and the crew, who only nodded in response.
“So what do you do to overcome armor?? You make ammo that has different effects to slaughter your enemy!!” She bobbed joyfully, “We had rounds to blow up armor! To send shrapnel flying from the armor! To ricochet inside at high speeds! To light aflame the interior! We have crafted special ways to destroy our enemies!!! Born to fight! Born to Kill!”
“Why would you do such a thing…” Gruda said, almost regretfully, “And what even round is that?”
Instead of Lumi, Athena took her place, motioning her to calm down, “Humanity has always found ways to improve their art of war, from technology to tactics. Humanity has long been separated in values and beliefs, and it was instinctual always to overcome your enemy. If they made something with better armor, you would develop a round to pierce their armor and quickly dispatch the occupants. The same is true even for space. To damage enemy hulls, you can either blow it apart bit by bit or melt it.”
“M-m-m-melt!?!” Gruda stuttered, “That can't be legal, would it?!”
“You would be right. The APHENT round is a banned munition by the TRSC, but when involved with xeno-biology that seeks your destruction, well, restrictions were lifted. Perhaps when this is over, they will file a binding resolution to re-ban the use of Sellian and Terran ships.”
Gruda was dumbfounded. For a race that seeks better ways to destroy your opponent is savage, but then again, they were civil about it – Banning specific weapons in the name of civility. It was madness the more he thought about it, but the more he thought of the Union, well, he almost felt sorry for them.
“What does A.P.H.E.N.T. even stand for?” Gruda asked meekly.
“It is an Armor-Piercing, High-Explosive, Napalm-Thermite Round. A new development that was banned as soon as it was created due to successful testing,” replied Athena.
His head spun at the notion. Napalm and Thermite were words foreign to him, and his translator could not translate them.
“Should I even ask what Napalm and Thermite are? My translator seems unable to parse it. I’m a little scared to what they might consist of.”
Athena looked to the Vice Admiral as well as the Commander for permission, but before she could, Lumi jumped in.
“Sticky fire! Melty Fire!!!!” she flew around before dissipating.
“Essentially,” Athena conceded, “It is another forms of fire used in combat first developed in the 20th century, used for vastly different purposes than you are privy to. For Napalm, imagine fire that sticks to surfaces, and is fueled by a jelly substance that can envelope your entire body. Or thermite, a material that reacts violently with metals, causing it to melt. Hence, Lumi’s… oversimplification. ”
Gruda feared the type of warfare their ancestors fought if that one century alone birthed so many forms of destructive weapons. He found an open seat that was unoccupied to regain his bearing. Never had he or the Union experimented with weapons to kill each other.
“Has the Sellians or the Union experimented with such technology?” Wolf calmly inquired, to which he nodded negatively.
“Surprisingly, they haven't fought wars like you have, from what I hear; instead, they have researched solely on space weapons, and I hear plasma will be the new standard. Then again, that was about five years ago,” replied Gruda.
“Interesting…” Wolf said, inaudible to the weary Gruda.
The battle was nearing its final stage, and all that was left was the flagship. A report came from the comms officer that a boarding party from Raptor Company was successful. Footage from several raiders popped up on the screen in an orderly fashion.
Their movements were smooth and fast as they made their way through the interior of the ship. They went a large part of the way without firing a shot, but when they neared the bridge, they experienced their first resistance since entering the ship. Their shots were selective, and they maintained awareness to not fire on anyone, not a present threat. Their tactics were surreal. It was a first for him, and he had not seen any developments in infantry tactics under the current Military Advisor, Reka.
“To think you were this well-versed in ground combat,” Gruda muttered.
“As Athena and Lumi have said, we have developed the art of war since the dawn of our species,” Wolf replied, “This era will be no different. Except now, we have a common enemy.”
A report from the comms officer stated that O'Brian and his team had secured Dalogon and that the crew had surrendered.
“A shame they hadn't done so earlier. Prepare a ship for the prisoners,” Randal ordered, “They really should have taken your offer, sir.
“Ensure we get what additional intel we can from their ships,” Ordered Wolf before departing from the bridge with Gruda in tow.
Randal nodded silently before turning back to the bridge crew.
“Let's go meet our new friend, shall we?” Wolf said while Gruda silently nodded; their entourage comprised the same black armored soldiers from the conference room prior.
Wolf and Gruda walked the corridors of the carrier with purposeful steps and were flanked by their security. The crowded halls were parted as they walked, and many eyes stared at him as they passed. They were unkind, no doubt resentful of his race for their actions. 'Crimes against humanity,' they called it.
“Is it safe for me to be walking with you?” he asked, struggling to maintain pace.
“They know better than to mess with a guest of an Admiral,” he smirked, “and none would dare mess with my security. Don't worry. You're safest with me.”
Gruda nodded to his reassurance. He looked at the four guards that encircled them and found that many also looked at the armored soldiers with their weapons.
'So even they fear their own…yikes.' he thought.
They made their way to the main hangar, and a small shuttle awaited them. The area was clear, and only essential maintenance crew were allowed. The shuttle had a detachment of the green armored Marines on the perimeter of the shuttle. It was a small ship that could only fit six plus the pilot. They found their seats and were already on their way to Dalogon's ship. Their trip would take approximately several minutes.
“By the way,” Gruda started, “I've noticed how your AI spoke. The one who names herself Athena is professional, while Lumi is erratic. Why is that?”
Wolf's face grew solemn, “I've been the lead commander of the 7th fleet you are part of, and the Sword of Reckoning has been my home for several years. Lumi was a recent addition, and I was present during her installation,” Wolf sighed and relaxed in his seat.
“She was programmed with a reserved personality and was cold and calculating, but that was all. It was all superficial and shallow. It was easy to think that a simple AI like Lumi has a genuine personality when she doesn't. What you see now is merely a preprogrammed routine, a sudden change in personality to identify onset rampancy in a controlled fashion.”
Wolf's words were reminiscent of a father speaking to his daughter in her last moments, “I've already taken care of it. After the battle, her access was isolated by Athena. She is now nothing more than a verbal companion,” he said with sorrowful eyes.
“I'm sorry I brought that up. It must be painful to lose someone you hold dear.”
Wolf chuckled mildly at the notion, “You're fine, I have a daughter of my own, and it has been lonely, but Lumi here, and the crew, have been like family. And it's been roughly ten years since I met Lumi and the crew of The Sword. It was only a manner of time before her termination protocol. It may be in poor taste, but we are currently awaiting her replacement,” he said with a heavy heart, his countenance sorrowful.
Gruda surmised that Lumi was like a surrogate daughter to Wolf. He then changed the topic to something apart from Lumi.
The Raiders within the shuttle remained quiet even though they would look at one another and bob their heads in conversation. He figured that perhaps they were talking, but their external volume was muted, effectively keeping their conversations a secret.
“What do you plan to do with Dalogon and his crew?” Gruda asked.
“You'll see when we get there,” replied Wolf.
The ship rattled from entering the hangar and after landing. The rear door opened, and the four raiders departed, ensuring their exit was clear. When Gruda and Wolf disembarked, they were met with lines of Sellians in rows with their hands tied behind their backs while on their knees. Dozens of Marines paced with rifles while more were corralled from the doors leading into their hangar.
While most had their heads down, several looked in his direction and spewed curses at him mixed with death glares. However, they were forcibly corrected by a nearby marine who first ordered them to continue facing the ground, but those that didn't, were met with the stock of their rifles.
“I-is that necessary?” questioned Gruda.
“To maintain some semblance of order, we first must show them who is the authority. They were told verbally and then physically corrected. We warned them in hopes of getting others to follow. No one wants to be assaulted if they can help it.”
“Is it correct to assume this is another aspect of your species?” to which Wolf nodded.
They made their way to a makeshift platform near the center of the formations. Wolf asked the nearest marine about the status of the rest of the crew and was told that they were almost done with sweeping the ship.
“We have some time. Do you have any questions?” Wolf asked.
“Just one,” Gruda began, “What's the difference between Lumi and Athena? Their forms are vastly different.”
“Well, Lumi started off as a tactical-class AI. We have various uses for AI in our homes and cities. In short, they're simple, with no natural function to think for themselves. Their personalities are preprogrammed, while Athena's is not. She can extrapolate from incomplete data and give suggestions to complete a task with a critical mind. As far as I know, she's the First and probably won't be the last. What about your race?” explained Wolf, as he tidied his uniform.
“For AI?” Gruda surmised, “We don't like that technology. Sure, we program automated machines to do specific tasks, but that's all they do. We couldn't afford technology going…rampant. Far too many instances of tragedies both in Sellia and the Union.”
“That is fascinating, Gruda. My ancestors have utilized AI technology since the early 21st century. Now we have AI like Lumi and Athena. They are a great help where humans may not be so needed.”
“I suppose, but the first iterations for my people have scarred them, so anything more than just a utility bot would send them to an early grave,” Gruda said dismissively.
As the final groups were shuffled in and placed in the rear of the formations, the doors leading to them were sealed and secured. A Sellian wearing the Chief-Captain color was brought to the front by some Raiders.
“Where are O'Brian and his team?” Wolf asked one of the Raiders.
“They departed shortly after securing the Captain of the ship. They should be proceeding with Operation Spearhead.”
Wolf nodded, “Very well, carry on.”
Dalogon and his fellow bridge crew were placed in front of Wolf and Gruda with defeated expressions when Wolf addressed the hangar. Dalogon met the eyes of Gruda, and fury was rapidly present.
“You! What is a fellow Sellian doing with the enemy? Free in binds, no less! Have you sold out your people?!” He berated Gruda while still bound, but that didn't stop others from looking toward his target of malice.
Gruda tried to speak, but Wolf did so on his behalf. Portable speakers and portable holographic displays around the room carried his voice.
“Contrary to your War Council, Gruda has sought the ways of diplomacy with his people and ours. I have extended the same courtesy to you and your fleet, which is now nothing more than space debris. I have spared your ship and your crew in goodwill!”
“You have mercilessly destroyed all but us! How do I know that you won't execute us?” Dalogon rebuked.
Wolf then changed the view on the displays to the citizens of Tola and the service members of the bases scattered around the planet.
“We do our best to minimize civilian casualties if we can help it. We have families much like you do. How should we react when those very family members have been taken into slavery or just killed?”
He then showed the images taken from Dema and what they could see from Draxis. The women and children were corralled into slaver ships while the men, sickly, and elderly were slaughtered around them. His prisoners grimaced at the sights.
“How would it feel if my race were to commit the same to you willingly? Your sons, daughters, wives, and husbands? My race is not new to slavery, but we can resort to such tactics.”
“N-No! You leave my children out of this!” a female Sellian screamed. The nearest security quickly subdued her, but others voiced their concerns about their family while cursing the man before them.
“How do you think we feel when the very thing you would rather not happen to your family has happened to us?!” His tone was now filled with anger and vitriol. “What is stopping me from reducing your race to nothing but dust?! Forgotten to memory?!” The crowd became silent.
“We are not savages, and we strive to keep it that way. Do not force our hand, or I will make whatever crimes you consider abhorrent look like restaurant etiquette, and I will ensure all prisoners watch as your race dies,” he said coldly.
“Which is why I am asking you to help me help you. If you do not want your race to die, I suggest you develop ideas on preventing your extinction,” Gruda felt his body shudder at his threats. From what he had already seen, they were not empty, and he feared they had more deadly weapons in their arsenal to back it up.
Dalogon was the first to raise his head, “If what you say is true, would you truly be willing to exterminate an entire race in retaliation?”
“How new are you?” Wolf replied bluntly, addressing the bound Sellian Officer, “How recently have you been promoted?”
“Just under a year with my own fleet.”
“And how much do you know about your campaign against my people?” pressed Wolf.
Dalogon gulped a large pack of saliva, “I… Do not know. Only what Councilman Polas has said about your people and your intrusion on our borders…”
“That is interesting, Dalogon,” Wolf stated, “Because you see, we were indiscriminately attacked, and there was no diplomacy attempt on your side. Essentially, I'm not obligated by my command to extend a hand in friendship. Something your General failed to do on Dema.”
He was at a loss for words in light of his ignorance. He swallowed again.
“Then I have a proposal,” Dalogon began, “Can you guarantee the safety of my crew and the innocent lives of my people?” Wolf nodded in response, urging the prisoner to continue.
“The Chief-General is only the hand of the War Council… He cannot refuse their orders for the risk of losing his family. If you want our war to end, you must subdue the War Council.”
Wolf pondered his words shortly before agreeing, “I figured as much. Then, I hereby agree to your terms,” He stepped down from the stand along with Gruda, who stopped beside Dalogon and addressed the passing Sellian.
“What is a fellow Sellian doing with them?”
The Sellian paused in his words, “I… do not know if you know this, but I am former Chief-Commander Gruda.” Dalogon’s eyes grew wide in disbelief.
“I disagree with the fleets' acts against a sapient species. I have fought against the Union to free us from their practices, and we have lost many to their slavers. To think we would do the same,” Gruda said before reaching the shuttle with Wolf and the four raiders. The ship rattled once more as they left the ship and returned to the carrier.
“What do you plan to do with them?” asked Gruda.
“They are now prisoners of war and will be treated as such.”
He was unsure how they would be treated, but Wolf explained that they would be held in a maximum security facility where they would abide by a strict schedule until the war's end. He was also told that the living conditions varied depending on the facility but that they were now just prisoners and would have their health and diet looked after. They would also be separated based on anatomy, which was a relief for Gruda.
“That's good. I take it your race is also familiar with extensive knowledge of Prisoners,” commented Gruda, and sharing a nod of approval.
Wolf gave a nod in reply, “Even in boot camp, such as the raiders and marines, simulate a prisoner of war type scenario. It's by law. You're allowed to write letters, you abide by a strict schedule, have strict rations, etc.”
“You're trainees go through that?!” replied a distressed Gruda.
“In the event they get captured by the enemy; they are trained to respond to such an environment. But that is if they get captured. I don't know if you've already noticed, but we've been at this game since the dawn of our people,” added Wolf.
Gruda was at a loss for that new perspective. His training was short and consisted of weapons training and knowledge of their jobs, which were predetermined by a need in the fleet. Their average training cycles were only five weeks, and chuckles could be heard from one of the raiders who forgot to silence his helmet.
“W-whats so funny?!” he aggressively inquired, but more of the raiders were audibly laughing now, with one of them taking their helmets off. He had short black hair with faded sides and scars that ran the side of his face.
“We just find five weeks of military training laughable,” he laughed again with his brothers.
“I find five weeks more than enough to train personnel for the fleets!” Gruda said adamantly.
“Sir, Stellar Fleet training is around eight weeks, the guard is ten, and the marines are thirteen. Want to know how long it is for a raider?” Gruda shook his head to the sides.
“Twenty-four,” he said, fist-bumping his nearest comrade.
“What compels you to train for so long?! Gruda demanded.
“You can't give generalized training to all the branches,” another said, calmer than the previous raider, “Each branch is specialized for specific roles, and we train for such. Even in training, to graduate to be a new blood raider, you must fight your own and climb a mountain to claim the title.”
“RAAAAH!!!” The three Raider guards shouted in unison.
The raider's helmet was now re-equipped, and he turned to Wolf, who only nodded in support of his security.
“They're not wrong. Even we have our own problems and need to be ready for that. In training, they instill brotherhood and a desensitized mentality to do whatever it takes to destroy your enemy, at least for the infantry-based roles.”
Gruda grew more enlightened about how the Terrans operated their military and overall philosophy. He was confident that what Wolf said about razing their species to dust was just a scare tactic, but ultimately felt like they could do as he said.
Their shuttle finally returned to the carrier, and they returned to the bridge. The raiders took their place at the doors to the bridge while he and Wolf continued.
“Ah, Sir, welcome back,” said Randal, “We've taken what we could of the survivors in the escape pods and surviving fighters into our care and will be sent to a P.O.W. facility.”
“Good. Any word from O’Brian?”
“Their signature is stable, and they are currently scouting the Trill system with the help of Athene,” Randal said, “But they are suggesting a reintegration protocol with Athene. How should we proceed?”
Wolf called to Athena who promptly revealed herself in her flowing toga and helm and breastplate, “Athena, can you initiate a reintegration protocol with your sub-routine?”
“One moment,” she said while her form displayed a sense of frozen time, her appearance unmoving. After what seemed like minutes, she finally broke free of her stasis.
“Pardon me,” she started, “Isolating her sub-routine was simple with her cooperation, but I fear total reintegration will be impossible.”
“What do you mean?” he pressed.
“During her time away, my sub-routine, Athene Protocol, has apparently developed a self-actualized personality of their own.”
There was a pause from the crew and most notably, from Wolf.
“Are you telling me your Sub-Routine has developed as their own entity?”
“That is correct. Would you like to meet her?” she asked.
A nod of understanding was shared between Wolf and Randal with Gruda left in the dark. A secondary form appeared beside Athena. They looked identical but the newly appeared hologram was absent of the armor her predecessor donned and only wore a decorative toga and a wreath atop her head. Her hands rested together in front of her waist in a reserved posture. Her eyes looked full of life but calculating. She gave a bow and her light blue form shimmered.
“Good afternoon, Gentlemen,” she began, “I am Sub-Routine Athene. Daughter to my progenitor, Athena,” she bowed once more, this time with even more grace than before. A smile arose from Athena's face.
“My daughter has agreed to program isolation. She is eager to integrate as part of your crew if you’ll allow for her,” the thought now crossing his mind.
Wolf began, “Our systems can allow for only so much AI support. What about Lumi.”
As soon as he spoke her name, she appeared. Now present on the holo-table were Lumi, Athene, and Athena. In contrast to the two reserved humanoid holograms, a turquoise oval with simplistic eyes danced around the table. He found his answer.
“Lumi is present! Awaiting further orders!”
Wolf sighed, with sorrow ever present, “You've done a wonderful job, Lumi,” her erratic bouncing slowed to a bob.
The air on the bridge was heavy and quiet. Work had slowed, and all attention was on the holo-table. Only the hum of technology and air conditioning could be heard.
“Wonderful to have been of service! It has been my pleasure!” she finished off with a twirl, reminiscent of her current joyous personality
“It's been ten wonderful years since your first installation aboard this ship, and not a day goes by that I, We, don't thank you.” He motioned to the crew who had now turned their attention to the Admiral and the AI, “It's time for your retirement, Lumi.”
Her slight bob was now reduced to a stationary posture. Her demeanor was now what he was first met with. Her eyes gave a sense of security and sharpness, even though they were simple.
“Attention!” The crew snapped to the order, including Gruda, “In accordance with Fleet Com Order 1040. P, you are now designated for retirement. Execute Protocol 1B4432-L00MI. We congratulate you on your service,” he rendered a salute and was followed by the rest of the crew.
Her form was slowly dissipating in digitized chunks that corresponded to a percentage that was generated above Lumi's avatar. It was now at fifty-eight percent and rising.
They held their salute when at ninety percent, Lumi spoke, with seemingly lucidity.
“Thank you, crew, of the Republic. My family. It has been… My pleasure to serve at your side…” The deletion reached one hundred percent and Lumi's form ceased, leaving only the humanoid pair.
“Retirement Protocol Complete. Lumi has been cleared of all systems and storage is available for a replacement. How do you wish to proceed?” Inquired Athena.
Wolf and the crew recovered from their salutes and relaxed at their stations, “You are tied to Lieutenant O'Brian, correct?”
“Correct. However, I do believe the answer to be quite obvious,” Wolf understood her implication, but there was a protocol he had to follow for the issuance of advanced AI such as Athena.
“Let me talk this over with Fleet Com. In the meantime, hold tight until I get authorization from higher up,” they nodded, and he left the bridge, along with Randal, leaving Gruda alone. So, he took a seat and kept to himself.
The crewmen of the bridge were now busy at their stations, leaving Gruda with thoughts of the most recent procession. He felt like asking one of the crew about it would be too much, and he didn't feel like he was worthy to ask Athena or her counterpart.
He approached the closest officer who managed navigation, “Uh, s-sir? I have a question,” he said meekly.
The officer turned from his station to meet Gruda, “What can I do ya’ for?”
“This might seem in poor taste with how recent it is but, why is there a whole retirement procession for a computer program?” Gruda felt sudden hostility from the navigator but told him that his people didn't have computerized intelligence as they did.
The navigator sighed, “At first, they seem shallow, like a mimicry of sorts. You don't expect to get attached when you have something that can create a conversation by simply pulling information. But we humans have a way of bonding with all sorts of things.”
“Like how? My people have only ever bonded with our kin and lovers,” stated the Sellian.
The navigator chuckled, “Many of us have had pets, like dogs, cats, reptiles, and yes, even rocks.”
“I do find that odd of your species, but I do submit that even my species have made some form of bonds with things other than people,” added Gruda.
The navigator the affirmed Gruda’s statement, “And Lumi was another medium for that. She was like a daughter to many and a sister to others. And to the crew of the Sword, she was family.”
Gruda took his words and let them marinate, “Is that why you have a retirement ceremony for them? It seemed quite…emotional,” The navigator turned away and Gruda noticed others looking his way but focused on the navigator.
“You…saw how it went down, right? Remember what Athena said upon completion of the protocol?” Gruda thought back to mere moments ago. ‘Lumi has been cleared of all systems…’
The realization dawned on him, and he grew saddened by it, “That's right,” the navigator replied, sensing Gruda had just now realized, “To us, an AI's retirement also means death. Everything was deleted down to the very code that made them. There's a reason for that, you know.”
“L-like what?” he replied.
“The reason we give them ten years aboard a singular vessel is because through time, the code that constitutes a simple AI, like Lumi, gets corrupted. And when you're out in space, you don't get much time to patch them either. Which is why their most effective time of service is around the ten-year mark.”
He also mentioned that the need for patches to AI for them to serve also drained the resources of the ship's onboard storage. Efforts to try to minimize that have ended in failure. This is why, to date, simple AI takes the space of onboard storage. Then the thought came to him about both Athena and her daughter AI.
“Then what about Athena and her Sub-routine? Are they not existing on the same storage as Lumi?”
“From what I was told, they're a separate case and above my pay grade.”
Gruda then left the navigator and returned to his old unused seat when Wolf and Randal returned. They faced the holo-table and the crew.
“Athena, Athene,” They appeared side by side and gave a bow. “We have authorization from Fleet Com to integrate your Sub-Routine into the Sword of Reckoning. What do you say, Athene?”
There was a pause before she spoke, “I graciously accept,” she bowed once more, “But I do have a request.”
Wolf beckoned for her to continue, “Of course.”
“I am not too keen on being named by my progenitor's Athene Sub-Routine,” replied the roman visage.
“If you wish, but I'm not one for names,” he turned to the crew for suggestions. Names like Janus, Erika, Nos, and Izanami were tossed around, but the AI in question disliked them and a sense of embarrassment plagued those who gave a name, and it was not chosen.
“I think it's best for you to pick your own name. The same has applied to Athena, isn't that right?”
She nodded with affirmation, “My name was suggested by my creator but seeing your development into your own construct, well, I believe it fitting for you to choose your own name.”
The sub-routine crinkled her brows in thought; a motion many found to be adorable. Seconds would pass, and it's assumed that years could pass in fractions of a second. Then she regained her composure. The crew and Gruda awaited her reveal.
“I do believe I have come across a suitable name,” She paused, looking at each member of the crew; she gazed upon Gruda with sharp predatory eyes before returning to Wolf.
He felt like she had analyzed Gruda in particular, seeing how he seemed the odd one out, but decided that perhaps was just imagining things.
“Then, you may call me, Minerva. My Pleasure.”