Memory Transcription Subject: Tassi, Bissem Alien Liaison

Date [standardized human time]: November 12, 2160

The United Nations had been mysteriously supportive of Bissems in the past few weeks, while offering gifts for nothing in return and smoothing feathers with our other nations. That charity had been enough to pique General Naltor’s suspicions, but I wondered if the appropriate parties in the human government had been alerted to our mistreatment. There was talk about inducting us as full SC members, though there would be strong opposition to that motion; even if Arxur Collective aid was ultimately accepted, our role contacting them had soured several parties on us. Today, the full might of the Sapient Coalition stood behind Nishtal. If we could not secure a more certain victory, then there was no hope of going after the enemy in their own territory.

“I should be curious to learn what your scout ship uncovers. I understand they’ll hardly be firing up the warp engines, and be hiding away from the inhabited systems. Watching, waiting,” Naltor commented to Dustin. “I get that between the travel length, then biding their time to pick off a lone, manned ship in a space lane…it could be months before we get results. Yet putting a face to the enemy: that’s how you unite people. Give them someone to point a flipper at.”

Zalk scoffed. “That’s exactly what I’ve been after with the ghost exterminators. We need to get the fucking answers ourselves, I think.”

The human xenobiologist arched his eyebrows. “Perhaps there’s no answers to be found. Not here, anyway. We have to focus on what we can fix, and what we can protect right now. The environmental teams are working overtime on Ivrana, going into active warzones. Sending fish so you can ease up on the overfishing a bit.”

“I don’t know what your people are up to, playing nice. The Tseia sure as shit won’t rest the stakes of our army, all of our logistics and supplies, on you continuing to give us food. That’s an easy way to take us out of the fight, making us dependent on your graciousness. It wasn’t too long ago that you were planting a knife in Tassi’s back.”

“Look how that turned out. We haven’t given Jones so much as a peep, since she tried that,” I commented.

“Then why do I feel like we did exactly what that conniving human wanted?”

“What do you mean, Zalk?” Naltor questioned.

“Jones hasn’t even tried to push back. Think about it. Humanity couldn’t contact the Arxur themselves, but if we quietly influence them? And also have the Sivkits come to the bargaining table at long last? I can’t shake the feeling that Naltor’s plan to round up the misfits is exactly what the fuck she wanted.”

The Selmer’s eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t a very waterproof blackmail rationale, but I don’t see how…you’re paranoid, wanderbird.”

“It’s not paranoia if I’m right. Can’t deny the timing of when they’ve decided to be nice, after that all went down: it’s peculiar.”

“The Terrans wouldn’t want us siphoning the Yotul and the Zurulians away, and building a fleet of warships. There’s no reason to cause such frostiness between our planets, pushing us away from them.”

“We already were pushed away, and they knew that we were meddling. They needed support for their war. Look how our actions benefited humanity, much more than having an internal spy ever could!”

“That’s enough of the crazy talk, Zalk. We’ve set ourselves up to have influence and power; our military is stronger now than it was a month ago. If it benefits the Sapient Coalition by keeping a few planets alive, then I’m okay with that. And on that note, why don’t we check in how Nishtal is faring?”

“There was almost a Krakotl on your first contact mission,” Dustin piped up. “Our thoughts should be with them now. We can’t afford baseless suspicion, not when we’re actually ahead and things are improving for Bissems.”

I waddled toward our station in the assembly hall. “I agree with him. Onso said it best; we all have to work together when it comes to our survival. What happens with the Krakotl affects us all.”

All eyes in the Sapient Coalition were on Nishtal, because their entire hopes for the war effort rested on this clash. Knowing that the different flanks of the enemy drone assault were not communicating with each other, we planned to recycle the strategies of the tungsten rods and the cloaked stations from Talsk. The Venlil were also uncorking their own specialty, as their “scrapper” drones were making their first appearance in battle. The Skalga natives had given their spacecraft to humanity, during their defense of Earth, and lost the rest of their fleet by joining that battle. They’d replaced their dated Federation vessels, by engineering unique drones designed to charge the enemy line. It mirrored their ancestral roots, plowing into foes and invaders headfirst—literally. I was curious to see how that fared against our foes.

The Venlil’s specialty is that, not only are the scrappers built for ramming like some Technocracy ships, but their pointed hull can separate from the rest of the craft. The Skalgans appreciated those tactics, and figured out a way to not make it suicide in space. With these innovations, a vessel can stay in the fight and keep shooting.

Governor Laisa was seated alongside Secretary-General Kuemper, as they waited to see how Venlil scrappers fared in battle. Naltor would be watching keenly too, since, for our newly-constructed fleet, Bissems and Sivkits were cobbling together bits and pieces from every SC power. We’d be ready to turn their own tricks against them, if it came to that. As messy as the war back home was, I was grateful that Ivrana’s nations had the good sense to keep that vitriol from carrying over to the stars. I was also appreciative that I’d been quite detached from the consequences at home, since I’d scarcely been back to my planet. My sights were set on the bigger picture, with galactic stature and Ivrana’s survival taking precedence over petty concerns.

The Krakotl ambassador squawked with impatience. “How is the battle going, Laisa? I haven’t heard anything, apart from the fact that there’ve been shots fired between your ships and theirs.”

“We’re getting our data together from Nishtal to show a coherent picture,” the Venlil responded into her microphone. “However, our initial results are promising. Remember, our goal is to wear their numbers down long before they get to your world. Piece-by-piece. These aren’t all of our vessels: just the amount we were willing to sacrifice.”

“And what was that amount? I want details, quickly—show some urgency, please! It’s not your world under siege.”

“We won’t know if the battle is won or lost for some hours yet,” Kuemper interjected. “I assure you, Kelsel, Nishtal isn’t under siege now. We also evacuated the planet’s population, so there is no immediate danger to your people themselves. Lives are the most important thing, and that’s been handled up front.”

“You speak as if losing our world, and seeing its culture and every construct on it crumble again, would be inconsequential! Were the roles reversed, would you not worry what happened to Earth just because you’d relocated your people?”

“That’s not what I meant. Earth is our home and is deeply important to us, and we’d protect it for its own sake. I understand you feel the same about Nishtal. I’m only asking you to reframe your view on the worst-case scenario; there must be some comfort in knowing your people are safe. I know that’s my top concern, and remember, the worry that left the UN sleepless twenty-four years ago was the possibility of our extinction. You should not press me on how I’d worry about Earth.”

“I didn’t mean that humanity hadn’t…suffered, and you know we’re penitent for our role in that. My point was that your home planet is priceless, irreplaceable. A horrific loss, even without lives in that equation! Look what’s become of the Sivkits, without Tinsas factoring into their identity.”

Naltor cleared his throat, a sly gleam in his eyes. “You mean shacking up with rotten carnivores?”

“I have not been one of the ones biased against you from the start!”

Kuemper issued an irritated sigh. “I know we’re all on edge here, but let’s keep it civilized. I’m certain what Ambassador Kelsel meant was that Tinsas was a tragedy, leaving the Sivkits to wander without any knowledge of their true home or identity. To that end, we can all agree. Please, keep our focus on the ongoing conflict; the first images are coming through at this moment.”

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From the eyes of a few Venlil scrappers, we could see the tungsten rods nailing the enemy front lines—like lances tearing through that soft outer shell. The mathematical precision needed for the timing and coordination to be so perfect…human trajectory systems were a marvel, so much more advanced than Bissems would’ve thought possible before first contact. Seeing projectile warfare as one of their oldest arts made me understand why Naltor was so enamored with studying military tactics and contraptions. The timing cleared the opportunity for the Venlil to sail, engines blazing, toward the enemy. With guns firing off several shots, and now positioned near to the enemy’s locale, the pointed fronts of the drones detached.

Acceleration was on their side, as the piercing stage barreled through the hostile front flank; between the rods and the unusual ramming techniques, the SC’s greeting party cleaved through thousands of vessels. The difference made by having substantive allied forces on standby was already felt. We had enough firepower to put the pressure on out of the gate, and that was a reason for optimism. Ambassador Kelsel had relaxed from his frayed mannerisms, as the enemy struggled to return fire and dispatch our first line of defense. The Venlil’s guns were active and still in play for additional, precious time, while the hostiles focused on eliminating the rods. That whittled away a tad more of their numbers, still several planets back from Nishtal.

And this is only the opening act. We can soften them up much more, before they ever get close to Nishtal—maybe even stop them from reaching the planet altogether.

Kuemper cleared her throat, seeming to receive information through an earpiece. “The Krakotl vanguard are on the move, with UN and Technocracy backing. Your old-school designs, with the plasma railguns, won’t be very effective; that’s why you’re going to lob a few missiles, and serve as a distraction for our entry.”

“Remember the ‘space harpoons?’ Those pesky rods flying at them even now? We stuck more of them in a railgun to throw in their faces, up close and personal,” Onso chuckled.

The Krakotl’s ships had shed the appearance of the extermination fleet; not requiring manpower meant their drones could be built as lithe, almost-birdlike silhouettes. Several plasma railguns focused on single targets at once, attempting to stagger their shots to avoid the liquid armor. The United Nations and the Technocracy were nestled behind a wall of native ships, ready to vault over the avian line with space harpoons primed. The enemy was picking off the bird drones with too much ease, even though they’d tacked on magnetic shields to counter particle beams. The Krakotl couldn’t withstand liberal usage of antimatter bombs meant for Nishtal. Their vanguard was obliterated with powerful explosions, which meant the humans and the Yotul were exposed.

They’ll have to act earlier than they hoped, and at a greater distance. I’m sure they had a Plan B, but I’m curious to see just what that was.

“Our ships just got obliterated!” Ambassador Kelsel squawked in horror. “Our state-of-the-art, newly-built ships…”

“For every antimatter bomb that strikes your ships, that’s one less city-killer they can shoot at Nishtal.” Duerten Ambassador Korajan huffed with impatience. Despite retaining their Shield membership, the gray avians had been introduced as a partial SC member—and as promised, sent a small handful of ships to Nishtal’s aid alongside the Leshee. “You’re making them spend those fighting up here, against metal hunks with no cultural importance or lives aboard. That’s a positive outcome.”

The fallback plan appeared to be fighting fire with fire. The United Nations and the Yotul Technocracy both possessed massive stockpiles of antimatter missiles; even if a party would never bombard planets from orbit, they were the most destructive munitions around. Their willingness to dispense dozens of these rare explosives didn’t convey the difficulty in creating antimatter weapons. With enough resources, time, and willpower, the two powers had accrued enough to make a dent in the enemy’s forces. Guns fired through the abyss with fervor, as missiles detonated and the gap closed between the two sides. Missiles tried to pin down ships that twirled and danced to evade, with both sides showing expert maneuverability.

At the end of the day, our foes had the numbers; this strategy was only intended to slow them down. However, what the primates and marsupials’ advance lacked in manpower, they made up for it with heart and firepower. The UN and Technocracy worked in tandem on the battlefield like flippers moving together, pushing their engines to the limit to draw near and deploy the rods. The apprehension in the SC chambers was palpable, since we all could see the explosions in the panoramic view; those represented friendly casualties. These drones wouldn’t survive the encounter, but they needed to survive long enough to cripple the invaders. The enemy wasn’t keen on letting them draw close, since they’d just witnessed the Venlil’s ramming tactics.

“Just a bit further, and we sink our claws in,” Onso commented, a dark gleam in his eyes. “This is the last phase of our assault before they reach the system’s asteroid belt. They must be significantly weakened, before they run headlong into the mines hidden there.”

The harpoons attempted to lock onto their targets, but there was only so much distance that a railgun could nail a target with a sharp rod with any accuracy. It couldn’t just connect with the enemy; for maximum damage, it required an exact angle to pierce through with the pointed tip. There was no room for error, even more so than with traditional beams or bullets. Our foes had the easier task of pelting us with missiles, and wearing down magnetic shielding with tireless particle beams. Moreover, while this SC movement’s antimatter was used up, our hostile counterparts still had plenty left in the tank. The human-Yotul advance desperately deployed interceptors and barriers to prevent direct hits from hostile bombs, but a sizeable chunk still found themselves in the radius.

The Sapient Coalition’s battered force pressed on, throwing caution to the wind. Power was diverted away from shields to the engines, granting them a burst of speed to draw near enough to the evasive enemy. That left them a softer target, vulnerable to even simple munitions—easy pickings. The rate of our drone casualties skyrocketed within a short time, but the sole goal was to make their inevitable demise worthwhile. Human and Yotul spacecraft danced around the edge of their harpoon railgun’s range. Though they’d been nearly eradicated, a few hundred friendlies pressed on with their last gasps. The hostiles couldn’t retreat quickly enough to avoid ceding the last bit of distance we needed to clear. They had no way of knowing what range we required to deploy an unrevealed weapon.

“Now this is my kind of fishing trip,” Naltor whispered under his breath. “Harpoons away.”

Without hesitation, the advance cranked out the readied harpoons, and reset within a few seconds for the next. As the railguns prepared for the second wave, the first rods had reached the enemy—ripping through metal with meteoric intensity. The munitions were landed in compartments where the hostiles couldn’t afford a gaping crater; it’d helped that, at Talsk, we’d solidified their weak points and the general placement of critical ship functions. They hadn’t passed along information of ours, due to their total silence. That left another aspect we could chalk up as an advantage in the war, since their communications blackout was hurting them.

The power of knowledge will be even more tilted to our side if that scout ship can nab a few prisoners and gather intelligence about our enemies. For starters, we might figure out what really became of Tinsas, and what their plans are next, after this three-pronged strike.

I craved answers for why this all was happening, since it almost felt like this calamitous war began as soon as Bissems waded into the galaxy. Had the Sapient Coalition not contacted us, we’d be blissfully ignorant of this mess…though perhaps it was hypocritical to say, as a scientist who’d spent my life trying to communicate with alien life. At any rates, we were here, and watching Terran and Yotul drones go down with a bang. Rods from close-range were lethal, propelled at such high speeds that they didn’t need the long acceleration time to make them invisible. There simply wasn’t a moment for the enemy to react; swiftness left them unseen. The harpoon railguns forced our foes to evade erratically, rendering it impossible for us to target critical areas.

The enemy regrouped and walloped the remaining SC ships outside the asteroid belt, though they were bruised and bloodied in the aftermath. A little less than fifteen percent of their vessels were wiped out; that threshold was likely to be cleared once they ran into the mines. Zalk looked enraptured as the fleet progressed through the sea of rocks, which erupted in percussive devastation. The Tseia must be imagining adding this feature to Ivrana’s orbit, to stop any would-be bombers. I’d have to tell him that was ill-advised since we had regular, friendly ship contact who wouldn’t appreciate having their civilian craft blown to bits. Here at Nishtal, however, it added to the enemy’s wounds.

“Let’s not count our chickens, or grow complacent, but I’d venture this is an optimistic start to our defense of the Krakotl,” Kuemper ventured. “The bulk of our forces are still waiting for the large-scale confrontation, along with a boatload of defenses we brought to the party. The entire SC and even a few outside friends are there.”

Korajan ducked his head respectfully. “We’re happy to be of service. Every ship counts, and can be a difference maker; just as every bomb impact causes damage. The Duerten Forum is here as a friend, and we wish to make that statement to anyone watching.”

“The United Nations hopes to make a statement as well, on behalf of the entire SC. We can show them what we’re made of. What happens when we band together. Right now, that’s the only message we can send to our enemy, and I think it’s a good one.”

“As do I,” Onso agreed. “For all our differences, we’re united in keeping people safe and fending off evil. That’s what separates us from the rest.”

I found sense in the statements made by the human and Yotul dignitaries, as well as a reason why it was worthwhile to continue pursuing friendship with the Sapient Coalition. After seeing what they were capable when all of their military might was directed toward a singular mission, I had high hopes for Nishtal’s chances; if the defense continued in this direction, the planet might escape unscathed. I also knew that Bissems would be much better off getting them to work for our side than to act against us. This battle might send a message to more than just the enemy we were fighting against; it was a warning to the entire galaxy.