Lord Admiral Rheise sat on his front lawn, sipping on his glass of some very expensive dark liquor (with ice of course, he wasn’t a barbarian), enjoying the sunset.  Two of the three suns had set, with the last leaving a warm reddish glow across the horizon.  Proxima B was a nice little world for some R and R.  His family was asleep by now, after a long day of playing in the ocean, and the solitude was wonderful.   

Tonight was his last evening with his family, before he’d be back on-ship.  They were about to start planning a major offensive against their pushy neighbors.  “Fucking alien pricks!” he muttered. “They should be killed off.  The ugly heathens don’t even stick to one genome anymore, just keep shoving more shit into their genes, see what sticks.  As if the biology God gave us wasn’t good enough for them. Well? I guess in their case, I’m surprised they made it into space unmodified.  Their hellhole of a homeworld should have killed them off millenia ago.  I guess there’s something to be said for being too stubborn to die, even when God clearly hates them more than most.”

The sun steadily set as he continued drinking, enjoying the cool night air. Buzzing noises sounded out around him, as insects flitted about, trying to get at him, or the porch lights.  The laser field around his deck prevented that though, incinerating them without much effort. Looking up to the sky, he noticed some beautiful shooting stars.  They were fast moving, and bright, a wonderful capstone to his last day of shore leave.  He settled back in his chair, and turned on some speakers, letting some relaxing music accompany the sight. 

The power briefly flickered, but he didn’t really worry about it.  It was just a blip.  Not even fast enough for insects to get through the forcefield.  Getting up from his chair, he stretched his arms, shuffled to the nearby table, and refilled his glass.

A few hours passed, and the alcohol was almost done. It was probably about time to get to bed.   He’d check on his children, before he woke up his wife.  It was his last day on leave after all - they had lots of time to make up for.

The soft  thrum of the power generators accompanied Rheise on his brief trek to his daughter’s bedroom. He noticed the door was slightly ajar.  “Damn it Ava,” he snickered. “Never remembers to close the door all the way, when she makes a midnight bathroom trip.”  

Leaning into the bedroom, he saw his daughter curled up in bed.  “That’s strange” he thought.  “I didn’t realize her sheets were that color.”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Oh no! Oh no! Ava!” he screamed, running into the room.  His little girl lay in bed, a massive gash in her neck.  Her body was ice cold, most of the blood had already soaked her sheets. Despite his shouting, there was no other sound in the house. Panicking, he ran to the next room over, where his son slept, tears pouring out of his eyes all the while.  That door was open too.

Knowing what he would find, he walked through, sobbing. “My son! My poor, poor son! Who did this to you?” His son lay in bed, a small burn through the center of his head. Rage filling his heart, he left both his children where they were, and cautiously moved to the room he shared with his wife.  Fear suffused his body.  He knew what he would find here too.

He didn’t know.   Walking into his bedroom, he released a keening wail.  His wife’s head was suspended from a polearm, her mandibles cracked, dripping green ichor, all thirteen eyes glassy, no longer seeing anything.  Her abdomen was in several smaller pieces, strewn about the room, and her thorax was just. gone.  His many eyes focused on the spear, looking for any identifying marks, as rage overtook his thoughts.

Clan Hek’kaad.  Those bastards had been making inroads, trying to muscle into the military.  They were no better than worker drones, not warriors! Those cowards!  His clan would see them reduced to ash, and a new brood would fill their roles.  God would not allow such an atrocity to go unpunished.  Clicking his mandibles together, he went to the comms, preparing to reprioritize the fleet.  The offensive could wait.  His family deserved justice!

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Several kilometers from the resort house, a large figure in dark blue powered armor watched through his binoculars, with satisfaction, stealthily hidden under active camouflage.  ***Bear to Bunny, mission successful.  Fall back to RP1, link up with Leopard, and prepare for exfil.   We have 2 hours to leave this rock behind, before the bugs come in force. Over.***

***Bear, get the comms right.  It’s Rabbit, not fucking Bunny.  Moving to RP1 now.   Glad to be done here.  That op was pure shit.   Why do we always have to do the fucked up shit? Over.***

***No heresy on an open net, Rabbit.  We get these ops, cause we’re the only ones who can do it. But yeah. . . this one stank more than usual. Now shut up, and move.  Out.***

Unseen by Lord Admiral Rheise, or any of the orbital satellites, five faint shimmering shapes moved from their positions surrounding the house, and slowly traveled to a small clearing.  Nothing noticed when those shapes entered into a larger object, similarly concealed. The wind in the area blew in some strange patterns, and there was a patch of broken grass in the clearing, but no satellites caught that either. 

By the time the fifth fleet of the Rekkaid Hegemony arrived to support their admiral, there was no sign that anyone who wasn’t a Rekkaid had ever set foot on Proxima B. 

In three weeks, Clan Hek’Kaad would launch an official protest to the Council of Matriarchs over the unprovoked attack conducted by Fifth Fleet, but by the time anyone had the ability to sort out the mess, the planned offensive to attack the humans was already well past its start date, and the fifth fleet was too heavily damaged for the deployment.