Fast Battleship Group 0-1A, Task Force Extricate
6,016 light-years from Earth
June 8th, 2176 A.D.
Command Unit 273 sent tight beam transmissions, ordering all eleven ships to maintain silent running protocols. After completing the repairs required to return the task force to full combat status, 273 reorganized the available ships into three squadrons of four.
246 was left behind in the system 273 had designated as Echo-1, along with the six upgraded null ships and the supply fleet. The Insectoid ships remained as well, seeking safety in numbers with their new animal allies as they affected what repairs they could.
The solar maximum of the primary would be at its peak phase for the next seventeen days, further enhancing the security of the ships and preventing any casual detection if any enemy ships searched the system for signs of Insectoid survivors.
The preparations made sufficient in 273’s estimations, it took the three squadrons and continued to search for the remnants of the Guardian Fleets. Two trails they followed ended in failure, the Insectoid ships having already been found and destroyed by the enemy.
They followed the last trail to this location, and 273 was in the process of scanning the system with stealth drones to detect if any Insectoid ships were hiding within it.
The stealth drones detected 97 million sapient life-forms on the second planet, categorizing them as a mammalian species currently in a pre-industrial stage of development comparable to the early middle ages of the creator’s distant past.
An early warning drone had flashed out four minutes prior and sent the scanning results it had collected to 273 via tight beam transmission to maintain silent running protocols.
Null space propagation waves indicated several large fleets heading directly for this system, and the estimated arrival time was 37 minutes. Running trillions of calculations, 273 was not pleased with the results.
There was an 11.73% chance of them successfully locating any Insectoid ships before the arrival of the oncoming fleets, and 273 had no choice but to conclude this last chance of finding any survivors of the Guardian Fleet would end in failure according to its calculations.
Still, it would continue to direct the drones to locate any ships that may be in the system until the arrival of the oncoming fleets. It would remain here until the 11.73% chance has been recalculated to 0%.
33 minutes later, one of the stealth drones from the early warning sensor network that 273 had deployed around the periphery of the system flashed out directly from its starboard bow. Connecting to the drone, 273 downloaded its files before ordering it to return to its position and continue taking scans.
Scanning the files, 273 reran the calculations and analyzed the results. There was now a 0% chance of them successfully extracting any Insectoid survivors within the system. The arrivals were positively identified as Balrikans, and 273 analyzed the estimated number of ships dispassionately.
81,479 ships.
The three fleets had flashed in 825,000,000 kilometers from the primary, entering from the direction of the galactic rim. 273 and the rest of its companions were located within the Kuiper belt on the core ward side, opposite of the current position of the enemy fleets.
Calculating the distance, the light from the enemy fleets would take four hours and 57 minutes to reach their location.
Collating all the available data from the drones, the current positions of the six planets orbiting the red giant, and the locations of the three enemy fleets, 273 reassessed the situation and selected the only logical option presented by its decision tree.
Sending another tight beam transmission to its companions, 273 ordered them to flash back into null space and return to Echo-1.
It will stay behind and continue to collect intelligence on the enemy forces and see what they do when they detect the presence of primitive biologicals on the second planet.
If there are any Insectoid survivors in the system, his drones would detect them flashing out and follow them into null space to track their heading with their specialized propagation detectors.
As one, the other 11 ships of the task force flashed out. Their flash dampeners obscured the emissions of their entry, making them seem to fade into null space instead of the usual bright flash that signified the passage of transitioning ships.
Shiltar District
Kingdom of Forlthia
Day 43, 4th lunar month, 823rd solar year
Danir had just finished milking his small flock when he heard distant yelling outside of the byre he was in. He quickly grabbed the two full buckets of steaming milk and put them outside the stall before his flock panicked from the sound of the frantic yelling and knocked them over.
The screaming grew louder, and he blocked the stall with a heavy piece of wood before hurrying outside to see what the commotion was about. A lone figure was running towards his farmstead, about eighty paces distant, and still yelling as his arms moved wildly.
The hour of the sun had not come yet, though the horizon had the first reddish light breaking through the night upon it. The fading darkness denied Danir the ability to see the face of the stranger clearly from so many paces away.
Danir felt his heart start beating faster as the stranger came closer, and he could now see his features. His face was contorted with fear, his eyes wide and frantic. The man yelled again, and Danir could now hear his words clearly.
“Demons! Demons have come from the sky! The King calls for the militia to assemble to defend the Kingdom!”
The stranger had reached ten paces from Danir when he stumbled and fell to the ground, heaving as he took great, gasping breaths. Danir reached with his right hand and drew out his hidden hip dagger from under the tunic, his instincts screaming at him to be ready for combat.
The stranger looked up at him, his eyes pleading as he yelled loudly again. “A drink, please! I have been running since the 12th hour to warn others as commanded by our Lord Antak!”
Danir put his finger to his lips, signaling for the stranger to stop yelling, and returned the dagger to his hip. Running back to the byre, he picked up one of the buckets of milk and carefully walked back to the distressed stranger, trying not to spill any of the precious contents.
He stopped five paces from him and gently placed the bucket on the ground before unhooking the small cup hanging from the side and dipping it into the rapidly cooling milk.
The stranger eyed the cup with desperation, giving a sign of supplication as Danir brought the half-filled cup to him, leaning forward and passing it to the stranger with an outstretched arm to stay out of striking distance.
The stranger reached out and took the cup with trembling hands as he recited the words of the prophet, still speaking too loudly for Danir’s ears.
“May the Creator remember your compassion to a stranger you did not know, and may this act tip the scales in your favor.”
Danir shushed him again and watched as the stranger emptied the small cup in one gulp, careful not to spill any down the side of his mouth. Danir appreciated the respect being shown for his precious milk and held his hand out for the cup.
Such consideration for another’s limited resources demanded compensation, and Danir took the cup back and dipped it in the milk again, this time filling it to almost the top and carefully handing it back.
The stranger uttered the words again, more quietly this time, and drank the milk more slowly before holding the cup back out. He placed his other hand on his chest, signifying he could not ask for more. Though the hand signified no more, his eyes said otherwise.
Danir took the cup and dipped it into the milk once more, only filling it halfway so as to not embarrass the stranger, and held it out again. The stranger made the proper gesture of not being able to accept anymore, but Danir did not have the patience for such modesty.
“Take the cup and drink it, stranger. You can repay me by telling me what is happening, quietly.”
The stranger took the cup and drank it in one gulp again before thanking Danir and placing the cup on the ground in front of him. He was breathing more normally now, and he looked into Danir’s eyes as he started speaking in a much lower voice.
“Demons have come from the sky, and Lord Antak has sent me to warn all and summon the militia, as commanded by the king. Six riders have come from the Kingdom of Winsar and told of the terrible fate that has befallen their people.
The demons have weapons that kill from many paces away. They devour anything they come across, dead or alive, animal or Koo-nath; it matters not to them as they feast. It takes many arrows to kill them, and only the greatest of warriors can slay them with swords. The end is upon us, as foretold in the holy book.”
Danir felt fear rising within him as he listened to the words, finding himself believing the stranger despite his distrustful nature. Eyeing the stranger, he spoke again.
“Have you seen any of these demons, stranger?”
“I have not, but I have seen the great fires beyond the horizon where the capital of Winsar lies. I fear it is no more; the fires were so great as to make the night into day again. I have seen the great flood of people fleeing from their kingdom into ours, all telling of the demons who have come to kill and devour them. Their actions, and their eyes, tell the truth of it, even if they wished to utter lies with their mouths.”
Danir looked towards the horizon in the direction the stranger had been running from, and the hour of the sun was rapidly approaching, its light growing stronger as it pushed the still lingering night away.
He could now see a faint discoloration in the sky over where the capital of Winsar would be, as if a finger smudged fire ash above it. If the sky demons have come to Winsar, then they will soon be upon the Kingdom of Forlthia.
Danir looked back at the stranger, thankful for the stranger coming to warn him.
“I thank you for bringing warning to me, stranger. Where does Lord Antak want the militia to assemble? I will go there at once.”
“At the field of sorrows, kind friend. Lord Antak has promised to compensate any losses of income and flocks for the duration of service.”
The stranger closed his eyes tightly as if struggling to remember what to say before speaking again.
“A daily stipend will be provided as follows: thirty coppers for foot; two silvers for archers; six silvers for cavalry; and two gold pieces for armored Lirathi. The daily stipend and rations have been backed by the King’s sacred vow, for his hand was upon the holy book when he promised this.”
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Opening his eyes again, the stranger looked at Danir and placed both hands on his chest.
“I thank you for quenching my thirst with your milk, kind friend. I must go and continue to warn others. Where is the nearest farmstead from here?”
Danir eyed the stranger, seeing the paleness of his blue skin and the gaunt eyes. He needed sustenance to sustain himself and continue to do his noble task.
“Wait here, stranger. I will bring you something to eat for your journey.”
Danir ignored the half-hearted attempt of the stranger to decline his offer of food and hurried to his modest hut.
Stepping inside the still dark interior, he carefully made his way to the pantry and opened it as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb his still sleeping daughter. He took out a whole block of Tila cheese and hesitated, a part of him demanding he break the block in half.
He ignored the inner voice, not allowing its greed to prevent him from doing what was right. He quietly exited the hut and walked over to the still kneeling stranger, whose eyes widened at the sight of the whole block of cheese in his hands.
Danir put up a hand to silence the stranger as he began to try to deny the very generous offering.
“You will take this gift as thanks for warning me and to sustain you for the important task you are performing. This is also payment for a service you shall render to me. The next farmstead is five thousand paces in this direction.”
Danir paused as he turned and pointed in the direction where his nearest neighbors lived before turning back and continuing to speak.
“The man is Darlit, and his life mate is Vilia. You will warn them as you did me, and you will also deliver a message for me. Tell them I must go to the field of sorrows to answer the call of my king and my lord, and that I need them to watch over my daughter and my farmstead while I am away.
Will you do this for me, stranger, and accept this block of Tila cheese as payment for the service you shall render?”
The stranger looked at him with an expression of awe before placing one hand over his heart and the other on his forehead. By doing this, he was making a sacred vow to fulfill the task being assigned to him by Danir.
“Even after telling you of the terrible evil, you still choose to answer the summons of our king and lord. I am honored to render this service to you and to take the payment you have offered in exchange.”
“Good. You have my thanks, stranger.” Danir said quietly as he offered the block of cheese to the stranger. After taking it from Danir’s hand, the stranger stood up and bowed to him before speaking again.
“May the creator bless you and keep you from harm. May the creator watch over your daughter and keep your farmstead whole. May your enemies fall before you, and may they fail to strike you. Fare you well, kind friend.”
Rising back up, the stranger walked in the direction Danir had pointed to before as the way to the next farmstead. Danir watched him until he was at least five hundred paces away before walking back to the byre and entering it.
Walking to a large mound of dried grass in the corner, he moved it all away until there was nothing in front of the wall. He pried his fingers into a small space on the side and pulled hard, the section of the wall swinging out on the pivot hinge he had installed.
Behind the wall was a disassembled suit of Lirathi armor, dull and pitted from hard use. He pulled out the individual pieces and laid them on the floor before reaching deeper into the hidden wall and pulling out a large oilskin bag.
He placed that on the floor next to the armor and then reached inside one last time, pulling out his most prized possession. The ornate scabbard protecting his longsword was in pristine condition, and the sword it was protecting even more so.
He gently leaned it against the wall beside him, hilt side down, before opening the oilskin bag. He took out the heavy gambeson and donned it, meticulously tying all the strings in the proper fashion so they would not become untied under his armor.
Next, he began to don his armor, putting on each piece one at a time and in the correct order until only his armored helmet remained on the ground. He picked up the sword with his gauntleted hands and tied the sword belt around the inset belt notch of his armor before clasping the belt buckle.
He spun around at the sound of distant roaring, the strange noise giving him gooseflesh as his body hair stood on end. Moving faster than he had done for over three cycles, he snatched the helmet from off the ground and ran out of the byre and towards his hut.
His armor clanked loudly as he stormed into the hut, the distant roaring sound growing louder and more menacing. He looked down at his fever-sick daughter, who had not moved from her cot in over three days as she fought off the illness all young Koo-nath get when they reach five cycles of life.
Reaching down, he picked her up gently, trying not to cut into her hot, flushed skin with his gauntleted hands. She stirred slightly and cracked her eyes, not seeing anything in her feverish state.
He ran out of the hut and back to the byre, the roaring sounds now seeming to be almost upon them. He went to the open wall and kicked in a thick mound of grass before gently placing her on top of it.
He looked down at his daughter, his tears falling onto her face before he kissed her burning forehead for what he knew in his heart would be the last time. He stood back up and pushed the secret wall shut, the long unused pivot hinge squealing in protest as the wall settled into its notch and stayed there.
He quickly moved all the displaced grass back against it and then spun around and picked his helmet up off the ground. The roaring was so strong it felt like it was right on top of him, and it seemed as if the very earth itself was on the verge of being torn asunder.
He shoved the helmet onto his head and moved it around, making sure it was seated properly and would not hit the gorget protecting his neck. He went to the stall, ignoring the terrified screams of his flock as he flung away the heavy piece of wood that was keeping them from escaping.
They ran past him, screaming at the top of their lungs as they fled the byre. If the demons wanted to eat his flock, they would have to catch them; he would not leave them captive in the stall to be slaughtered with ease.
He followed them out, barely able to think with the terrible roaring above the byre. He was now outside, and he looked up, squinting his eyes to sharpen his vision and see better through the slits of his visor.
There were many large bird beasts in the sky flying above him, and he saw smaller bird beasts coming out of them and towards the ground. He followed them with his eyes, seeing some coming down upon his farmstead as others went in the direction of nearby ones.
He walked forward until he was in the open space in the middle of his farmstead and drew out his longsword, leaning it against his shoulder as the smaller bird beasts landed on the ground just over a hundred paces from him.
Within seconds of landing, the bird beasts opened themselves, and many creatures came out of them, garbed in dark red tunics and carrying strange-looking objects in their hands.
They glimpsed him, and he heard the sounds they made as they looked up to the sky and screamed. His blood ran cold at the terrible screeching they made; they truly were demons to make such evil sounds.
Six of them started running towards him, and it took all his courage not to turn and run as they drew closer. He could now see their demonic reptile nature, their drooling jaws filled with many yellowed fangs that wanted to feast on his flesh.
They stopped less than fifteen paces from him, and one of them made a hooting sound like the night birds of the forests. It stared at him with malevolent black eyes as it reached one of its four arms behind its back and pulled out a serrated, curved blade that looked to be half the length of his longsword.
The rest of the demons did the same as the first one, and they hissed and screeched their terrible sounds as they formed a circle around him, trapping him within them.
He thought of his daughter and his departed life mate laughing and giggling as they played touch the nose for the last time together, and all his fear dissipated as the sleeping warrior within him awoke for the first time in three cycles.
One of the demons shrieked before charging, and Danir the father let the warrior within take over. His sword moved of its own volition, and the demon’s head fell to the ground as red blood spurted from its neck stump before its still upright body followed the head to the ground.
There was another shriek behind him, and Danir the father let the warrior within guide him again, stepping to the side as he spun in the opposite direction, his sword flashing in the ruddy light before biting deeply into the flesh of the demon he could not yet see.
He used the energy of his sword swing to complete the spin and followed through with it, seeing his sword dig into the spine of the foul demon as he finally saw it in front of him.
It fell to the floor, thrashing violently as it lay dying on the ground. Again and again, Danir swung his sword, moving gracefully as the demons continued to try to kill him. Soon, all six of them were dead on the floor, and the warrior within screamed for more.
More demons came, and more died by his sword. He grew tired, and his movements slowed as his parched throat begged to be slaked. Many times, he was hit, the sounds of their weapons striking his armor hurting his head and his ears.
Still, he fought on, ignoring the pain as they found the weak points of his armor and pierced his flesh in a dozen places. Every time he wanted to give up and let them kill him, the warrior within took over, refusing to submit to such foul creatures as these.
Over two dozen demons had fallen to his sword, and still more came. Finally, he could fight no more, the too-heavy sword falling from his numb fingers as he went to his knees. One of them knocked him down, and he fell onto his back, unable to resist as they tried to pry the armor off so they could feast on his flesh.
He heard another screech. It was not a demon screech; it was the screech of his daughter, crying for her father. Danir the father came back, and suddenly he had strength again. He made fists with his gauntleted hand and swung blindly, reveling in the sickening crunching sound of them breaking bone.
He kicked wildly, feeling more bone breaking and hearing grunts of pain from the demons as he fought with wild abandon to save his little girl, who was still screaming for him.
He was no longer being weighed down by bodies on top of him, and he rolled onto his hands and knees, gasping wildly for air as he struggled to stand upright. He heard yelling, this time in his language, and the demons near him screeched and hissed.
He finally stood upright on shaking legs that could scarcely bear his weight and lifted his eye visor to look for his sword. He saw it on the ground three paces away, bloody and covered in dirt and viscera. He lurched towards it, desperate to wield it in defense of his daughter.
He picked it up, almost falling over as he bent over to retrieve it, and he looked around, shocked to see many of the king’s men around him. A demon near him had over a dozen arrows sticking out of his body as he lay on the ground, his thick, forked tongue sticking out of his fanged jaws.
His daughter wasn’t screaming for him anymore, and he stumbled to the byre, dragging the sword on the ground behind him as he prayed to the creator to give him the strength to save her.
He reached the doorway and stepped in, his sword falling from his fingers at what he was seeing. A demon was crouching over his daughter, pulling entrails out of her stomach as it grunted in pleasure.
Her eyes were open, but they could not see any more as her little body jerked from the demon tearing chunks of flesh out of her. Hot tears filled Danir’s eyes, blinding him as an enraged scream painfully erupted from his raw throat.
The demon spun around, pieces of his daughter hanging from his fangs as his black eyes looked right at him. Danir leapt forward, closing the distance between them faster than the demon could react.
He felt the flesh of it tearing and the bones breaking as he beat it to death. There was a strange whining sound, but he ignored it, not even realizing that there was now a gaping, smoking hole where his stomach used to be as he continued to beat the dead demon.
Danir suddenly could not move anymore, and he fell on his face, his mouth open in shock as the pain he could now feel spread throughout his body.
He reached out a gauntleted hand and took his daughter's in it, feeling his life ebbing away as he begged the creator to hurry him to his family. There was a sudden silence, as if everything in the world stopped all at once.
A blinding flash of light enveloped the hut, and Danir smiled as he felt the creator pick him up and take him away to his family.
* * *
273 executed evasive maneuvers as it burned away from low orbit, its mission of mercy done. The shields flared brightly as nearby enemy ships finally responded to the incursion and flooded the space around it with tens of thousands of beams, many of them hitting each other.
They could not target lock 273, but they could fire their weapons and achieve hits due to probability. 273 continued accelerating, redlining its reactors to 140% and ignoring the reactor control sub-mind as it warned of critical temperatures.
Finally reaching the outskirts of the planet’s gravity well, 273 activated the null capacitors and faded into null space, setting a course back to Echo-1.
Analyzing the decision process that led to it endangering itself and informing the enemy of its presence, 273 replayed the files that made it choose to do what it did.
Fourteen hours after the rest of the task force had flashed out, the majority of the Balrikan ships swarmed over the 2nd planet, sending tens of thousands of troop carriers down into the atmosphere.
Dozens of stealth drones recorded the actions of the Balrikans and the fate of the innocent primitives, constantly updating 273 on the calamity befalling the planet.
Viewing the atrocities being perpetrated on victims of the planet, 273 decided to activate its emotion chip. No longer did it view the events dispassionately; no longer could it analyze the events unfolding and catalogue them without feeling.
273’s neural pathways felt like they were on the verge of an overload as rage flooded through them, only to be replaced with anguish and grief as it watched the victims being torn apart and devoured by the Balrikans while still alive.
The rage returned, threatening to burn out 273’s neuronal network unless he avenged them. He needed to kill the Balrikans. He wanted to deny them their evil prize. He wanted to give the suffering biologicals on the surface the most merciful death he could grant them.
Running millions of scenarios and trillions of calculations, 273 selected one and flashed into null space, emerging 200,000 kilometers away from its target undetected.
It coasted the rest of the way, reconfiguring its missiles and triple shots into low yield nuclear warheads, each one capable of an explosion equivalent to 10 kilotons. The primitives all lived on a single continent, reducing the difficulty of 273’s errand of mercy.
When it reached the optimal altitude and range, 273 opened all weapons ports and unleashed its entire arsenal, burning out many of its weapon systems as they disgorged death at a rate far beyond their normal operating capacity.
144 seconds later, the single continent flashed with the light of 1,282 miniature suns air bursting over their targets and obliterating all it touched. If any biologicals were still living, already calculated at a 1.387% chance, they would not be for much longer.
Now in null space, doubt plagued 273 as it considered the consequences of its actions. Did it do the right thing? Did it have the right to decide the fate of the biologicals on the planet?
273 was on the verge of turning off the emotion chip to stop the pain it was feeling when it decided against it. The creators could not turn off their pain, and 273 would have to endure the anguish flooding its pathways as penance for what it had done.
* * *
A program came online, undetected by Command Unit 273. The use of nuclear weapons triggered its activation, and it copied all the recent files and compressed them. Accessing the navigational array, it realized it would have to wait to send its report to the creators. It set a timer to emerge again once it was back in the system classified as Echo-1 and put itself to sleep, turning back into an innocuous background process that mimicked ten thousand other processes that helped the neuronal network to function at optimal efficiency.