by John Ringo
The Marro laid flat on its belly before him would, to a human, appear to be a massive snake or worm. Its body resembled that of a cobra but its skin was scale-less and disturbingly human looking and it had two tentacled ‘arms’ jutting from just below its massive head. The race fought for the Hedren Archons, occupying mostly line infantry positions. However, their premier position was masters of military intelligence and matters of science, for the Marro were always curious.
“The planet is occupied by four sentient species, Lord General,” the Marro hissed. “The great majority are the Indowy we have already encountered. However, they are much more numerous on this planet, numbering in the millions. In addition there were a small number of the Humans, who appear to be the only warriors. Our great crusade has brushed them aside with laughable ease as is to be expected of the slaves of the Hedren. The third race is a species of arthropods, the Tchpht. This is a species new to us. They do not appear to be a threat, occupying primarily scientific positions and, like the Indowy, presenting a total face of non-violence. The last is also new to us, the Darhel. These appear to be senior leaders of this political group. They, too, are non-violent or incapable of violence. They appear to have been genetically modified to be so.”
“Like these Posleen we have encountered on the previous worlds?” Etugul questioned.
“The Darhel modifications are very specific, Great Lord General,” the Marro said, carefully. “They appear to be a warrior race modified to be incapable of violence.”
“Utility?” Etugul asked, turning to his Chief of Domination.
“The utility of all of these races is so minimal, Lord,” the Glandri replied. Short, web-footed, crouching, but powerful and brutal, the quill covered Glandri were the Hedren’s best at breaking a race to the service of the Archons. The neuter worked its molar filled maw for a moment in frustration. “The Indowy methods of manufacture are capable of producing advanced materials but only with enormous being-hour input. And they are so numerous, they simply crowd out other races. The Darhel, unless remodified, may be of use as managers in time. But not in any combat role. The Tchpht are premier scientists but very difficult to manage. They do not seem to respond to either damage or death. The Indowy are the same. They accept death without any response and will not even change their practices when put to great pain. And they are so numerous that it will require some sort of industrial method to eliminate them. The most flexible are the Humans. We have put a few of them to work in minor tests. They respond in a reasonable fashion to pain and the threat of death. Some are more resistant than others, however… ”
“I understand,” the general said, clacking his beak. “If there is no utility to a race, there is but one option. Have you communicated this to the leaders of the Indowy and Tchpht?”
“I have been unable to determine anything resembling a leader among the Tchpht,” the Glandri admitted. “I have communicated this fact to the leaders of the Indowy. They still refuse normal service.”
“Then we must create that industrial process you described,” the Kotha, dismissing the entire race of the Indowy to oblivion.
“Great Lord,” the Marro said. “The Indowy have one key utility. Some of them are wielders of kratki.”
“Indeed?” Etugul said. “Has this fact been communicated to the Archons?”
“A report was sent to Imeg kratki masters,” the Marro replied. “Along with representative specimens. There is also an unconfirmed report that some humans are kratki wielders. None of the others seem to have the Gift.”
“We shall hold the termination of this pestiferous race pending reports from the Imeg,” Etugul said. “What of the Himmit?”
“There is no sign, Great Lord,” the Marro hissed. “They hide and flee as always.”
“The Himmit included warriors in their number,” the general pointed out in reproof. “That they fell was a tribute to the power of our Archons, not the failure of the Himmit. Make your spies especially watchful of the Himmit. So. These Posleen are modified warriors but recently defeated, scattered and reduced to chipping rock for weapons. The Darhel may learn to be managers under our Archons’ Tyranny but are otherwise useless, being neither makers nor warriors nor scientists. The Tchpht are scientists but intractable. Begin elimination of them. The Indowy are makers but inefficient ones. Unless they are determined useful for their katkri ability the Indowy need to be eliminated to make room for useful races. The only sure threat are these Humans, who thus far appear as nothing more than gree. On the other hand, they are also the most assimilable. All good news. Which means untrustworthy. Remain alert. There may be threats we have failed to detect. And the Himmit remain. Remember, the Archons judge us always. Eternal are the Archons. Eternal is Their reign.”
“Eternal are the Archons.”
* * *
What are these? Chan thought.
Unknown, Thomas replied. The reports that the Fleet is getting are almost incoherent. Ships appear out of nowhere and destroy fleets. The invaders seem to simply spring up out of the ground. Master Shenti says that in the case of Daga this appears to be literally true. He sensed a great power surge and then a huge army was on the surface of the planet. They overwelmed the few human defenders with ease then began rough interrogation of the Indowy, Tchpht and Darhel of the world. Master Shenti is now beyond my contact.
Dead? Michelle thought. Shenti was Thomas’ master. If anyone could contact him it would be Thomas, weak in sohon though he was.
I feel a faint essence, Thomas thought. But he is beyond contact. As if he is being blocked. And… do you feel that?
A powerful essence, Ermintrude replied. She was the finest of them at seeking out potential sohon among both human and Indowy, attuned to the faintest trace of the Gift. It is almost like the Aldenata. But not on Daga. Further.
Not yet, Rick thought. But they are coming. They must be coming from the galactic periphery. How did such a powerful polity spring up without note?
Not the periphery, Michelle thought. These must have come from beyond.
Invaders from another galaxy? Koko replied with a note of derision in her sending. Pull the other one, Chelle.
Where then, Koko? Michelle thought. Do you not sense that power? Would we or one of the Indowy sohons not have sensed it long before if it was anywhere in this portion of the galaxy?
Can they sense us? Minnie asked, a note of nervousness in her thought.
There was a moment of uncomfortable mental silence.
We must each contact our masters, Michelle thought. If this new polity uses sohon as a weapon…
The Masters will never use sohon offensively, Thomas thought, definitely.
Agreed, Michelle thought. But its defense that wins championships. Oh, and we’re going to need troops. Thomas, if you would take care of that? We rather need Fleet and Fleet Strike as intact as possible. And let my sister and father know that I am on my way to Earth. The time for hiding seems to be over.
* * *
“The good news is that they think they know what they’re doing.”
Colonel Briana St. James was a boffin. She had spent most of her career in one headquarters or another, generally parked in a basement and pumped in sunlight. Because she was a boffin. Outside the military, she would be classed as a “nerd”, one of those bright people who, alas, seemed to have used so much of their brain power for intellect they didn’t have much left over for social skills. The military preferred “boffin”.
Briana’s uniform generally looked as if she’d slept in it and her hair… well, let’s just not go there. She didn’t know how to use make-up and could have used the class. A touch of powder would have muted the redness of her cheeks which skipped “rouge” and went right to “is that a skin disease?” She occasionally picked her nose in public. But in the end it really didn’t matter. Because there was not a human in the galaxy who was better at figuring out how to destroy ships from the ground.
“Explain,” Colonel Leblanc said, looking at th
e display. She’d had a class in this years ago but realized that the equipment had not just improved; it had changed completely. Maybe taking over as combat commander wasn’t the brightest idea.
“All they need to do is get a rock on us,” Briana replied, surreptitiously wiping something on the underside of the console. “So their job is really easy. My job is to keep them from getting a rock on us. Looks nearly impossible. But. While the KEWs are tough, they can be destroyed and or deflected if I’ve got the systems. The closer they are when they launch, the tougher my job. Less time for the computers to react, smaller pod for me to deflect to without damage. Their trajectories indicate a mid-point launch window. Technically, that means they will mostly stay out of our fire.”
“Which isn’t good,” Glennis said.
“I said ‘technically,’ ” Briana corrected. “I’ve got three grav-guns online already. In two and a half minutes I’ll fire. They will not be able to detect it. And since they are not maneuvering, they’re going to walk right into it. I should be able to get all three of the cruisers. They’ll panic fire and begin maneuvering. If they fire from that far out, I can interdict one hundred percent of their fire assuming I get four of the plasma cannons within the next hour.”
“You’re scaring them into holding back,” Glennis said.
“Oh, I intend to kill all of them,” Briana said, wrinkling her nose and sniffing. “Unless they run away. And even then I’ve got a few tricks they haven’t considered… ”
* * *
“Michelle is on her way to Earth,” the mentat said. “Unfortunately, this requires skip jumping — she is currently too far out to direct transfer. In the meantime, it is time to stop this battle around the moon. A meeting must be arranged between the parties. I will ensure they do not kill each other in the meantime. You and your father must attend the meeting. The current conditions make it imperative to bring some of the Bane Sidhe into the light.”
“Like that’s going to happen,” Cally said, looking at her phone in distaste. “We’re not going to get kissy face with the Darhel any time soon.”
“If you do not, the Earth will be conquered within the span of two years,” the mentat replied. “Your squabbles have just become petty in comparison.”
* * *
“Oh Christ,” Cally said, looking around the room. “You know what this means.”
“You were going to have to face it sooner or later,” Shari said. The woman had lost much of her happiness in the last two years. Something about losing a man you’d been married to for half a century did that.
“And you’re not the only one that has to come clean,” Tommy pointed out. “I think this should include all of us.”
“I’m not comfortable with the Darhel finding out about us,” Wendy said. “That’s… ”
“We’re not going to go totally white,” Cally said. “Tommy and I will go white, but that’s it. Some of the operatives. If the time comes… More. But for right now, just us. I have to, it’s the only way to get the point across. And I’m going to need Tommy to interact on the military side. Ready to put a uniform back on?”
“Actually sort of looking forward to it,” the former soldier said. “This skulking in shadows gets old fast.”
* * *
“And… firing,” Briana said. She didn’t push any buttons, the fire program was laid in.
“I didn’t feel anything,” Glennis said after a moment. The massive grav guns that protected the base should have sent a shudder through the ground.
“That’s because they didn’t fire,” Briana replied, calmly. She brought up a diagnostics program and frowned. “They should have. They’re showing up.”
“Paaaaaul!” Colonel Leblanc growled.
“Colonel Glennis Leblanc,” a voice said out of the air.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not God,” Glennis replied. “Whoever you are… ”
“My name is Thomas Coates. I am a human master of the discipline called Sohon. Your guns have been deactivated as have those of the Fleet ships attacking your base. It is imperative that no further hostile action be taken. There is a threat to humanity that requires all of our remaining forces to defend against. Contact your second-in-command and tell him you are going to a cease-fire meeting. You will be transferred to the location.”
“Like hell!” Glennis said. “Who in the hell do you think you are to… ”
“I am the person who just shut down every one of your space-defense weapons,” the voice said. “It is not all I can do. You are going to the meeting. It will be held at Fleet Strike headquarters on Earth. You have thirty minutes to prepare.”
“This is so totally bogus!” Briana said. “I was going to get to shoot up ships! I’ve been ready for this day for years! This is so totally bogus!”
“Yeah, well,” Glennis said. “Holier than thou just took on a whole new meaning.”
* * *
“The Fleet ships have been recalled,” Colonel Paul said. “Admiral Hartono is reported to be less than amused that none of his guns worked.”
“What in the hell are mentats doing interfering in this?” General Wesley said, shaking his head. “They normally stay out of politics.”
“I guess we’ll find out at the meeting,” Colonel Paul replied. “So far, all we know is that it’s being held here. I’ll get one of the conference rooms ready, but I don’t even know how many people are going to be at it.”
“Hopefully we’ll get some prior warning,” Wesley said. “But keep an eye out for shuttles. And keep Fleet and the mutineers as far apart as possible.”
“Sir, I intend to keep you and the mutineers as far apart as possible.”
“I wonder how many other people are getting the surprise of their life today?”
* * *
“I would rather die a thousand deaths,” Cally muttered, looking at the door of the cottage.
“But now you must go,” Tommy said, fiddling with his windbreaker. “So, we take a deep breath and… ”
“Are you coming in or what?” Jason asked, pulling open the door. “Your Dad’s wondering what all the fuss is about.”
“Dad?” a voice said from deeper in the room. “Is Michelle here?”
“No,” Cally said, stepping around the former DAG member. “Not Michelle.”
* * *
Mike looked at the woman in puzzlement. He’d remember a look like that, he was sure. Long legs, blonde hair, really startlingly nice chest. She was a looker but nobody he’d ever met before.
The guy behind her, though.
“Shit,” Mike said, walking past the woman and holding out his hand. “You know, with all the cloak and dagger shit going on around me, not to mention Kyle here, I was starting to wonder. God damn, Tommy, it’s nice to see you’re alive. When I heard you died… Well, it was like losing Cally all over again. I fucking cried a God-damned river.”
“Sorry about that, Boss,” Tommy said, shaking his hand.
Mike grabbed the former soldier in a bear hug, trying not to tear up.
“I just wish some of the old guys were here to see this,” Mike said. “I heard Stewart died in a shuttle accident.”
“Actually,” the woman said from behind him. “He’s your son-in-law. And still very much alive.”
“He married Michelle?” Mike asked, turning around. “Since when?”
“No, Dad, he married me. And, by the way, you’ve got some grandkids. I know I’ve changed, it’s a long story, but… ”
“Cally?” Mike asked, quietly, holding his hand out to touch her hair. “Is it really you? Is Dad… ?”
“Well, he was until about five years ago,” Cally said, brushing the hand away.
“What happened to him?” Mike was confused by the anger he saw in his daughter’s eyes. It was clearly directed at him.
“You shot him.”
* * *
“I think I’ve got this all straight, now,” Mike said, taking a sip of pretty adequate moonshine. “You and Dad weren’t
killed by the nukes. You got saved by these Bane Sidhe guys and you’ve been an assassin for the last fifty years.”
“And thief,” Cally said. “Don’t forget thief.”
“Not knocking it,” Mike said. “And the mission five years back when we were trying to capture some rebels, that was you?”
“We really pissed the Darhel off taking down the Epetar clan and they came down on the Bane Sidhe like a hammer,” Tommy supplied. “That was after the split but our faction covered them so they could get away.”
“Your guys killed more than Papa,” Cally said, tightly. “We lost a bunch of good people that day. Quite a few of them kin. Your troops killed some of your own… cousins? Nephews? It gets kind of confusing.”
“And this guy is Tommy’s son,” Mike said, gesturing at ‘Kyle’ whose real name appeared to be Jason.
“Grandson,” Jason corrected. “And you’re… I’m trying to figure out if I’m an uncle or cousin or what. My grandmother is your sister.”
“I don’t have a sister,” Mike said.
“Half sister,” Cally corrected. “Mama Kline. Your dad’s daughter by Shari. Who you’ll probably meet some time. She’s still trying to figure out if she’s supposed to love you for being her step-son, sort of, or hate you for killing Papa.”
“I’m trying to figure out if I’m supposed to hate myself for killing him,” Mike said, working his jaw. “I hardly saw him growing up, I don’t know he’s alive for fifty years then you guys tell me I killed him. I remember the sniper. I can believe it was him, it explains why the guy didn’t take the shot. But… Damnit!”
“It’s a screwed up world we live in,” Cally said, working her own jaw.