Memory transcription subject: Chief Hunter Isif, Arxur Rebellion Command
Date [standardized human time]: March 9, 2137
The subspace trails allowed my fleet to pursue the Kolshians, who, without reason, had abandoned their already secured position at Mileau; after a few days of pursuit, it became clear that our enemies weren’t bound for the Liberty’s Bastion colony. Secretary-General Zhao had evacuated the human colonists there out of an overabundance of caution, but curing predator expansionists was no longer the priority of the government caste. This route was steering us through the territory of the youngest Chief Hunter, Ilthiss, who was keen on proving himself to Betterment. It wasn’t only Federation onslaughts we had to watch for. I kept my bridge on alert, in case we were plunged into real space while clearing the parsecs between us and our foes.
There were no human strongholds in Ilthiss’ territory, to my knowledge; the lone Sapient Coalition member in his reach were the Nevoks, and with their manufacturing abilities, they kept enough of a fleet for themselves to thwart simple raids. Most powers within this sector were either on the side of the Duerten Shield, since Kalqua and its neighbors were centered there, or Federation loyalists such as the Malti and the Drezjin. Keeping track of every herbivorous race was a real headache, though my talks with Felra had been useful in picking up Federation customs. If I wanted peace between us and the leaf-lickers, it was my role as a leader to learn about them all.
I’m done with this Arxur-and-syasara game, I messaged Felra on SwiftPair, as we’d returned to doing throughout this tracking expedition. You’re trying to force me to be curious, by offering zero details about what you’ve been up to—and talking about anything else! So fine, you win, can you not see that? What was it like on Liberty’s Bastion?
The rodent began typing back at once. You have to show that you care, Siffy! Admit it, I’m way more helpful and special than Vysith. Now that we don’t see each other daily, you have to work for my friendship.
Why should I bother with such a colossal effort, you irritating, no-good Dossur?
You love me, but you’re too moody to admit it. You like that I think you’re harmless and sweet. Want to video call?
I will not let you make a fool of me while I’m on the bridge. If my men think I’m soft, they will not respect me. It does not matter if you believe you are helping; it is detrimental to my authority when you demand that I pet you, like one of those human idiots. Answer my question about the colony, or I will rescind my interest.
You’re such a goofy gray, Siffy; once you admit you’re interested, you can’t take it back. I’ll answer because I’m feeling generous. It’s the humans’ furthest colony away from Sol, and the habitation modules are cramped and practical—most of the settlers came because the UN offered free housing to the first people to sign up. The Mazics have some weird hero worship thing going on, and they have a joint military base with the UN for patrols and such. It’s quiet and unglamorous. The Terrans I lived with called it “life on the new frontier.” I don’t know what that means.
I’m sure the Terrans would tell you if you asked, no? I’ve never met a human that was not elated to divulge their thoughts at an unnecessary length.
Humans are as friendly as can be! I can’t believe I thought they were scary, back at work. I kinda miss inspecting starships, and I wonder if the Terrans could find me a job. If they let us go back to the colony, I might stay there. After visiting my family on Mileau, of course. I really appreciate how you came back to save my people. That proves that you care, no matter what you say.
I huffed in irritation. Why would you not wish to return to your planet, now that it is free of Kolshians? Your life was disrupted, and this must have brought some degree of emotional difficulty.
Well, I don’t want to go home. It’s more exciting out here! How could I go from bossing predators around to filing safety complaints with bureaucrats? Seriously, I’m way too curious about predator stuff to bury that side of me ever again. Mileau couldn’t handle me.
I snorted. That I believe. I cannot handle you. Now, our present course is leading us directly into Duerten Homogeneity space—toward their homeworld, no less. We know how hostile they are to the Rebellion, after they walked out of the Summit on my account, yes? Decisions must be made about how to proceed. I have to go.
Bye, Siffy! Don’t die.
My annoyance was heightened by that flippant dismissal, so I decided not to bother with a farewell response. Placing the holopad into a drawer, where it would be out of my sight, I snapped my attention to the bridge activities. Kaisal had just returned to his post, taking over the sensors console from Oleksiy, who’d been filling in while the runt slept. All personnel were ordered to combat stations, when we saw that our trajectory was bound straight for Kalqua. In my eyes, we had to follow the Kolshians to their destination, even if it took us through Duerten space. However, taking roundabout pathing might be ideal: we could pick up the trail on the other side of their system.
Kalqua was under siege for their part in Nikonus’ assassination, last I heard, so the Duerten might not have resources to divert to us. Lisa told me they were not responding to any communications.
The signs pointed toward the Kolshian forces from Mileau heading to Kalqua, except for the fact that the initial strike force had been enough to thrash the Duerten and silence their people. Still, it was within the realm of possibility that the Federation sent every ship available to annihilate the Homogeneity with absolute certainty. Secretary-General Zhao postulated, back on Earth, that the shadow government was plotting to strike human territory. Perhaps the avians’ scheme on Aafa, making the Kolshian Commonwealth out to be fools, had shifted the priorities around. Where the conspiracy wanted to cure humanity, the goal seemed to be eradicating the Duerten. The rebel fleet emerged into real space on my command, and the Technocracy ships followed suit a second later.
I elected to touch base with the Yotul on this decision, through our shared comms link. “We’re approaching Duerten space. I’ll have my sensors station catch their bearings, and see if we’re close enough to detect where these subspace trails wind up.”
“We ran continuous scans to trace the end destination while in warp.” The marsupials’ response was a casual indicator that their sensor capability while in FTL transit had surpassed our own. “It does appear to be Kalqua. UN and Technocracy generals are currently conferencing to determine our governments’ position.”
“I see. What is your personal opinion? As the ones spearheading this hunt, I would take your judgments into consideration on why we should or should not intervene.”
“Well, I doubt the Duerten would lower themselves to ask a primitive to bail them out. Ralchi knows they’d never ask an Arxur to step in either, if they’re too prideful to turn to the humans. There’s no love lost between the Sapient Coalition and the Duerten. I did want to finish the muzzle-kicking we gave the Kolshians at Mileau, but fuck if I want to sacrifice any Yotul lives for a lot of ingrates. Point is, I think we should see how many enemy ships we’ll be dealing with, and run some risk-reward calculations.”
“I will take that under advisement. After we have gone all this way to pursue the departees, I see no harm in gathering visual information from the system’s outskirts. In the event we enter combat, it would be helpful to know how many foes we’re up against.”
“Then I’ll seek clearance from the Technocracy to scout the battleground. My two seeds; I doubt the Duerten will pay us any attention. They won’t be able to. They got walloped by a couple drones when they tried to ‘help’ at the start of the Battle of Mileau. Humanity’s not covering their asses this time; they’re on their own.”
“Most herbivores are not worthy fighters. I do not imagine the Duerten Homogeneity would fare well against any shadow fleet attack, let alone an all-out assault. Keep us posted on your movements, or any new information. We will do the same.”
“Understood.”
It felt peculiar to defer strategic decision-making to the Technocracy, but the Yotul had more than proven their competency. If human generals judged their officers as equals, then I trusted the United Nations and their close friends to reach an appropriate decision for our interests. Out of gratitude for Secretary-General Zhao’s attempts to protect Felra on my behalf, my offer to assist stood in spite of my disdain for the Duerten. The lack of activity meant I should occupy my mind on other matters, while awaiting a verdict. I rummaged through a few briefings on the Dominion’s movements, knowing that we needed to return to wreaking havoc on their formations and locations after this clash.
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This pathing plants the idea to go after Chief Hunter Ilthiss; the fires of youth mean we want to weaken him, before he tries anything bold and reckless. Then again, while I’m sure the humans would call this “Machiavellian,” perhaps it’s better to leave him active. This is a Federation and Shield sector, so we could afford for the Arxur to keep raiding them.
Freeing cattle wasn’t going to make the most die-hard believers or fearful subsidiaries jump ship. I could rifle through intelligence on the Malti and the Drezjin when I had more time; from the little I knew, the monotreme Malti were willing to go along with anything the Kolshians said in exchange for favorable treatment. The Drezjin, meanwhile, were cave-dwelling mammals, and coincidentally, the only non-avian sapients that could fly. From what little I knew, they had an entire faith that viewed the Federation’s founders as divine avatars, due to a few ancient cave paintings they’d found. If the Dominion took those two out, they would be saving the Sapient Coalition the trouble.
Olek tapped me on the shoulder. “Sir, General Jones is on the line for you. Should I put her through?”
“That’s a name I have not heard in a while. The Secretary-General is allowing her to meddle again, or is this some new attempt on her own to procure something from me?” I sighed.
“I don’t know. She’s virtually attending that conference of UN and Technocracy generals. I’d wager she’s keeping you in the loop on whatever hush-hush intel is factoring into their decision.”
“We should hear what she has to say, whether it’s with the SecGen’s blessing or not. Jones is the only one bringing us up to speed live. Knowledge is everything,” an eavesdropping Lisa chimed in.
“Yes, yes…but I’m not doing anything extra that Jones asks of us. I have no patience for games. Put her through.”
Peacekeeper Bondarenko tapped a button, and gestured to his workstation. I sidled up to the display with my most serious expression, indicating to the short-haired American general that I wouldn’t tolerate double-edged aid. My prior cooperation with her had resulted in Zhao believing I was an enemy, and later, me being burned as a source to strong-arm me into launching a rebellion. I couldn’t afford to push aside any contacts from Earth; the United Nations hadn’t come to blows with the Dominion directly in months, but total war was on the horizon if they trounced the Federation. Still, I was leery of getting dragged into Jones’ scheming.
“Chief Hunter,” Jones greeted me. “Taking an interest in UN colonies all of a sudden? I’ll have you know humans aren’t interested in jawing off about natural security issues, after Earth.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Flaunting how you listen in on my private conversations won’t win my favor or my trust. I was asking after a friend.”
“Please. I’m actively tapping Felra’s comms, not yours, and it’s for your protection. She’s a major liability; if anything happened to her, I can’t predict what you’d do. The last thing I’d want is the Dominion or the Federation snatching her for the sake of extorting you.”
“…what?”
“Don’t make me spell it out. Just know my people are watching out for you, covertly. I’ve always thought we can help each other, Isif. With how valuable of an asset you are, you can’t blame me for not entrusting you to anyone else’s oversight.”
“I gave you much, at great risk, and got very little in return. I implore you to cease these games, and turn over whatever information is at the root of this call.”
“I was getting there. I’ve tinkered with our computerized recreations, and we fed known telemetry data, subspace activity, and acoustic readings into our programs. Take a look at our…highlight reel. I’ll narrate.”
The Terran general transferred a video file, which replicated an overview of Kalqua’s sphere. The overlay presented estimated ship counts, and I nearly choked as I saw the figure of enemy vessels swarming the Duerten homeworld. The count had crossed the six figure tally in the first wave, dwarfing the number that had taken Mileau. I wasn’t sure how the gray avians had withstood an attack of that scale at all, even with forty-four Shield allies’ mediocre militaries coming to their aid. It also was concerning that the shadow fleet had this many craft to throw at an enemy that pissed them off, despite knowing an attack on Aafa could be coming. How many more ships were being held by the Kolshian homeworld?
If these colonizers have six figures worth of bonafide ships on reserve, I’m not sure how even humanity executes Phase 3 of their plans. Aafa should be able to rebuff anything that’s thrown at them.
General Jones raised a placating hand. “Before you go looking all concerned, these aren’t shadow fleet ships. Most aren’t even Kolshian ships, and the ones that are—they’re from the public military. Average ‘herbivores’ by their definition. The Federation has over 200 allies, so ask everyone to kick in a few hundred craft and this is what it gets you.”
“This is…some attempt to soften up Kalqua with expendable resources,” I suggested.
“I think so. Kalqua got word of the attack in advance, thanks to an anonymous tip—and you know who let that intel fall into their laps. They would’ve been wiped out without the forewarning. The Duerten Shield’s allies sent some assistance, though not every party was willing to get involved. They started off with roundabouts sixty thousand ships and planetary defenses on their side.”
“That count is disproportionate, but not guaranteeing a Federation success. How much did the first wave whittle the Duerten fleet down?”
“Well, see for yourself.”
I returned my attention to the recreation, noting how the first Federation ships flew headlong into a rock-solid formation of Duerten craft. Kalqua’s moon harbored a planetary defense station, with enormous power built into its cratered surface to fuel energy weapons. Punchy lasers carved through enemy vessels, and pushed them away from orbital range. The defenders had other fortifications to their advantage; Jones’ tip-off had allowed them to imitate a “predatory” tactic, sending a few ships to hide within a gas giant’s gravity to later encircle the Kolshian-led attackers.
The Federation’s lone advantage was the gigantic scale of their onslaught, which made the extermination fleet that leveled cities on Earth look like a small militia. The Duerten weren’t as green at the spacefaring game as the primates who, at that point, had discovered alien life and FTL a single season ago; they also had more allies to call to their aid, while a few hundred Venlil and late-arriving Zurulians were all the Terrans had cobbled together. However, despite a strong start and those factors offering a favorable prognosis, the avians lacked humanity’s coordination and tactical knowhow. They executed a few basic plays, before their ingenuity and organization faltered.
The Federation fleet focused fire on the defense stations on Kalqua’s moon, as well as a handful of satellite modules with defensive weapons strapped to them. Duerten Shield vessels were out of their depth; even while using the public fleet as cannon fodder, the Kolshians placed legitimate commanders in charge of this assault. The raiders had sacrificed a few thousand ships to take the defenses out of commission. The weakest flank encircling the avians’ homeworld became the new epicenter of the attack, now that the hostiles were free of any devastating lasers that would hound them.
I could see, to my amazement, that the Federation vessels had missiles primed. How had the Kolshians gotten their allies onboard with turning a prey species’ cradle to ash? The native Homogeneity fleet were panicking, desperate to keep the raiders away from their precious homeworld. Taking a glance at General Jones’ face, as the simulation sped through these events, the rare sympathy in her eyes told me she understood that feeling all too well. I recalled how Terran-crewed vessels had flung themselves at Kalsim’s murderous minions, powerless to stop the bombs from hitting Earth.
None of these races participated in that extermination fleet, but they can’t claim to be any different.
While the Duerten were far from my favorite species, and I had presided over bombing events like this one myself, it was saddening once I linked Kalqua and Earth in my mind. Federation ships plowed through the Shield’s weak links, pirouetting through a sea of plasma and missiles; several invaders went up in smoke, but some slipped through toward the vulnerable planet. The missiles set sail in the simulation, while a wince took over Jones’ features. Detonations rippled across the continents, targeted without mercy at population centers. The estimated civilian death tally climbed as the recreation progressed to the present time: dozens of bombs had made it to the surface.
“That takes us to where we are now, with thirty thousand shadow fleet ships arriving from Mileau to clean up,” General Jones concluded. “The Duerten are down to their last legs, holding at about ten thousand, though they felled most of the Federation invaders to the same tally. I wouldn’t take their odds at one-to-one against the Kolshian’s secret sauce. It’s three-to-one, and that’s not counting the equal contingent of leftovers from the first wave.”
I lashed my tail with flustered emotions. “We all have our own problems, General. The Duerten spit in our faces and called us monsters; us, at least, with more cause than you. Is the sentiment in your generals’ meeting that you’re expecting us to risk our lives for them?”
“Nobody’s going to make any decision for you, Isif. It’s up to you and the Yotul to commit, or not commit, resources. If we don’t act, the Duerten race will be wiped out to functional extinction; that’s a fact. I thought you should see everything with your own eyes.”
“It’s unlike you to not openly push a course of action on me. I will consider both the reality of the situation, and what the Yotul plan to do. Tell me, is the Technocracy likely to step in?”
Jones offered a cryptic grin. “I could give you the likeliest answer, but where’s the fun in that? With the urgency of the situation, discussions won’t stretch on much longer. The Yotul will tell you themselves, when they’re ready.”
Before I could protest the Terran general’s non-answer, she disconnected from the call. A few displeased hisses and growls rumbled in my throat, earning looks from the nearest bridge crew. My conscience was torn on what to do; what was best for the Rebellion was to leave the predator-hating avians to suffer the consequences of their actions. Yet despite how they’d smacked down every hand of friendship humanity offered, I didn’t want to see them dead. From what Olek and Lisa told me last time I broached the subject of the Duerten, neither did mankind. The Yotul’s advancements were magnificent, but it was a tall order for three thousand of them to tackle this alone.
The decision to assist could be attributed to softness by my people, if it was made of my own accord. My gaze turned to Kaisal, the Arxur runt who was acting as my second-in-command. Consulting him would demonstrate consideration for the sentiments of my subordinates, and lift the sole responsibility from my shoulders. This was the field test to gauge his empathy; perhaps there was some, lurking beneath his hatred and resentment toward prey. With a heavy heart, I walked over to leave the Duerten’s fate in his jaws.