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marlynnofmany · 3 months ago

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Singing the Return

(A followup to Singing the Approach)

Our ship touched down like usual, with the captain in the cockpit along with a pilot (it was Kavlae’s shift), talking to the locals about where to park. In a slight departure from usual, this landing pad wasn’t anywhere near the ground. It was on top of a cactus-tree-thing that thankfully (very thankfully) didn’t sway in the wind.

I waited in the cargo bay with Zhee. He was a little twitchy, flicking his antenna and shuffling his legs and generally not holding still. I wasn’t about to say anything about it, but I suspected Zhee wasn’t a fan of heights.

Luckily for him, the landing pad was broad enough that he didn’t need to get close to the edge. Unluckily for him, Captain Sunlight had suggested that he be part of the delivery crew today because he’d been there when we met the clients before, and they would be expecting him.

With the amount he was flexing his pinchers, you’d think he was the one the clients had offered to give a tour of their skyscraper cactus city.

As the bay door started to open, Zhee asked me, “Did you check if that belt has a full charge?”

“Yes I did,” I told him, pushing the button on my gravity belt to display a full line of power lights. “And Mimi even looked it over for loose wires or whatever. I’m all set.”

“Good,” Zhee said, angling his torso so that his front half was higher — the Mesmer equivalent of standing up straight. I was continually amused by how much praying mantises resembled centaurs, and how much this particular alien species resembled Earth bugs. This wasn’t the time to bring it up, though.

The door was open all the way now, and there was Captain Sunlight, come to lead the way out. I could see a cluster of many-limbed locals waiting outside in the bright sun. The landing surface looked like it was made of red rocks mined nearby. Hopefully they were stable on top of this cactus-tree. The captain waved us forward: Zhee with the crates on a hoversled and me singing my best approximation of the local greeting song.

I’d practiced it on the way here. It was high-pitched but slow, like a songbird in slow motion. Or, more accurately, like a songbird trying to sing like a whale. This particular culture interacted regularly with their ground-bound evolutionary cousins, who wouldn’t have made it past the first climbing spike on these cactus towers.

The Tree-grabber in front stepped forward, chirping a reply song, then switching to the more recognizable trade language. “Greetings! We are delighted to smell you.” He waved his mousy ears happily, all four arms folded in front of him.

“And we you,” replied Captain Sunlight, whose people actually said that kind of greeting themselves. Her yellow scales were extra bright in this sun. “Would you like to inspect the merchandise?”

They would. Zhee did his part by prying open the crates with his mighty mantis arms — I don’t know why the supplier of these fruits insisted on packaging them this way, but it was good we had him along — and the Tree-grabbers all made a big deal of sniffing the fruits. The antigrav belts in the other crate got sniffed too, though thankfully they didn’t stink.

I could smell the fruits from where I was standing; that sour smell made my eyes water even at a distance. But no one was paying attention to me, busy as they were with signing for the delivery on the tablet that Captain Sunlight held out. Zhee put the lids back on. I wiped my eyes and admired the view. It was a nice scenic desert scrubland out there, with only the other cactus-trees in the way. I could see the entire sprawling city where the Ground-grabbers lived, and just barely make out the buildings on the distant Air-grabber mesa.

“Are you still interested in a tour?” someone asked.

I turned back and smiled without baring teeth. “Yes please!”

The lead Tree-grabber was returning the tablet to Captain Sunlight while the others moved the crates onto their own low-tech wheeled cart. Behind them, a hatch slid open in the red stones of the landing pad. Zhee towed the hoversled back toward our ship as soon as it was empty.

Captain Sunlight looked up at me. “Travel with care,” she said, which was a polite way of urging me not to trip and fall off the cactus.

“I will,” I told her. “And I have my phone if anything comes up.” That covered a lot of ground. We’d already discussed keeping an eye out for possible delivery needs: offworld items that I might tactfully suggest to the locals. They wouldn’t have thought to ask about the antigrav belts if the subject hadn’t come up in conversation the last time we were here.

“Then kindly follow me to the handpath,” said the many-limbed monkey-mouse. Dang, what was his name? I thought. He had a name. It translated as just a sound. Chirp, right, that’s what it was. I knew that. Totally professional over here. I kindly followed Chirp in the direction of the handpath.

Which was over the edge, because of course it was. Metal handrails like the kind I usually saw at swimming pools waited next to the steps. Chirp led the way.

I set the gravity belt to “catch me if I suddenly plunge downward,” and followed.

I like climbing, right? Big fan. I was all over the playground as a kid, and I never really stopped. It’s particularly fun when I get to be “the one who can reach things high up,” or otherwise be appreciated for climbing a tree or a spaceship or what have you. Occasionally I’ll meet someone else who enjoys being above the ground. Most species seem to prefer being on a safe, level surface.

Not these guys. Wow. I was glad that Captain Sunlight had insisted on the gravity belt, because this was intense. The entire city street system were basically ladders on the outside of skyscrapers.

“This handpath is designed with elders and the occasional visitor in mind,” Chirp called up to me. “Artificial steps and platforms placed regularly.” When I looked down, I saw that he was indeed standing on a platform already, which even had a railing around it. There were more ladders on either side, and other platforms that could be reached with the help of metal handholds.

“That’s very considerate,” I said. Other cactus-trees were close enough that I could watch the agile citizens scurry along the surfaces, using only the natural cactus spikes and small branches. Wild. “Do you have any handpaths inside?” I managed to make it sound casual as I stepped down onto the platform with a perfectly normal heart rate. There was a door here that I hadn’t seen from above.

“There are some,” he said. “Mostly for emergencies.”

I had to laugh. “That’s the opposite of where I’m from.”

“Really?” He perked up in curiosity. “How so?”

“We have tall buildings like this that we made,” I said with a wave toward the towering plants. “Nothing on Earth grows this big, but we can build it. And we do all our travel between levels inside, except for emergency escape ladders on the outside.”

“Fascinating!” Chirp said. “I suppose if you make the whole things yourselves, you can make sure the inside is strong enough to support as many rooms as you need.”

“Yeah, definitely,” I agreed, laying a palm against the smooth cactus wall. “These are pretty soft at the core, huh?”

“Oh yes, that’s why the rooms are kept strictly to the outer layer,” Chirp said. “Come in; let me show you.”

He opened the door and I got ready to duck, since it was just under human height, then a rapid succession of shadows passed over us.

Chirp made an irritated click. “Air-grabbers, come to get in the way again!”

I looked, curious to see what they actually looked like. Both the Tree-grabbers and the Ground-grabbers had complained about them last time.

They looked a lot like I expected: bats with skinny arms held close while they flew. Everybody seemed to have six limbs on this planet.

And varying opinions about personal space. The Air-grabbers fluttered around the cactus towers, inspecting anything that caught their interest. They circled people carrying groceries. They poked their heads into open doors, only to get shooed back out. They arrowed in on the spaceship parked above. And they flew past me repeatedly, almost enough of them to run into each other. High-pitched voices floated on the breeze, but none of them addressed us directly.

“Inside,” Chirp said, opening the door. I followed him in. He shut it firmly, leaving the squeaking cloud of bats outside.

The ceiling was a bit low here, but at least this was a proper civilized room, not something carved directly from the wet cactus innards. Multiple desks, counters, and couches made it look like an info center, or some other kind of “just arrived from above” hub. I wondered if there was a lot of travel between cactus cities here. Several locals waited in line.

Then someone else rushed in after us, complaining in her own chittering language, and she pulled up short when she saw the tall alien bent over by the door.

“Hello,” I said.

“My greetings,” she said, edging sideways. “Pardon.” With a quick arm gesture that was probably polite — one to her chest and three outward — she hurried off to stand in line. Everyone else was staring.

I’ve been stared at plenty in my time, so this was only a little awkward. I waved. Small windows that I hadn’t noticed in the walls flickered with passing shadows.

Chirp said, “I apologize for the Air-grabbers. They hardly make a visit pleasant.”

“Is there any way to ask them nicely to leave?” I asked. “I assume you’re tried discussing it with their leaders?”

“Many times.” Chirp looked tired. “They don’t care. As far as they’re concerned, the air is their territory, and it’s our poor luck that we have to breathe it.”

“How rude,” I murmured, not wanting to cast judgement on an alien culture. But my present audience more than agreed.

“Yes, they are very rude,” Chirp said, working up to a proper rant. “Shouting at them does no good, since they just find it funny. Bad weather will make them leave, but that’s a problem for us too, and hardly something we can conjure up on a whim. Though they did seem to dislike the sound of the wind through the observatory when half the windows were left open; that we could probably do on purpose. Not very helpful here, though.”

“What kind of sound was it?” I asked, half an idea forming.

“A very high shriek,” he told me. “Almost too high to hear. The wind did some strange things with those windows.”

“I wonder if you could ward them off with noise,” I said.

“Maybe,” he said, not sounding terribly optimistic. “Like I said, yelling doesn’t help, and that’s loud too.”

Somebody else scrambled through the door, complaining. This guy didn’t even see me, just slamming the door and hurrying forward like he was ready to have words with whoever was in charge here. Maybe he was. More shadows passed over the windows.

“Can I try something?” I asked. “A quick loud noise? I’ll do it outside.”

He looked curious at that. “Go ahead. Just make sure not to startle anyone on the handpaths nearby.”

“Of course,” I said. Then I turned my back on the staring eyes, opened the door, and stepped out to where I could stand up to my full height.

No Tree-grabbers nearby. Perfect. I put two fingers in my mouth and let loose with the most ear-piercing whistle I could muster.

Startled bats changed course in midair, flapping and diving to get away, a cloud of chattering alarm and confusion. Judging by the shadows, some of the ones from above had lifted off as well.

I watched for a moment to see that they kept their distance, then I ducked back inside.

“That seemed to work,” I told Chirp.

Chirp was rubbing his ear. “I’m not surprised. Very loud. How well did it work?”

I waved him outside to take a look for himself. He perked up when he saw how far the Air-grabbers had moved back. “That’s the best result I’ve seen yet! I’m sure some of it might be from the surprise of it all, but even so.”

“You said the wind shriek was almost too high to hear,” I said. “Do you think the Air-grabbers can hear sounds that you can’t quite pick up?” Their ears were bigger, but what did I know?

“Now that,” Chirp said decisively, “Is an idea worth pursuing.”

“So there’s this animal on my planet called a dog,” I said. “And a certain kind of whistle that only they can hear…”

By the time my tour was over, I had a representative of the city very interested in having us deliver some offworld noise-makers that might help them keep the peace.

(The rest of the tour was nice; they had some impressive architecture inside those cactuses, and everyone greeted me politely. I didn’t fall off the side once.)

When I climbed back up the ladder to the landing pad, taking care not to focus on the long drop behind me, I was surprised to find a handful of Air-grabbers perched there in conversation with the captain.

Chirp made a disapproving grunt, but said nothing as we walked over.

“Ah, welcome back!” Captain Sunlight said to me. “It looks like our next visit will involve a delivery of fruit to the other above-ground city in these parts.”

The Air-grabber in front smiled with sharp teeth. “Ours is the best.”

“As you say,” Captain Sunlight agreed politely.

“We will need the items delivered directly to an entrance,” said the Air-grabber. “Not to the high ground. Is that something you can do?”

Chirp muttered something that sounded like “Knew it.”

“I’m sure we can manage that,” Captain Sunlight said. “Our ship has some very stable thrusters, and talented pilots. And, failing that—” She looked at me. “Someone experienced with antigrav belts and high places.”

I chuckled and turned off the safety. “That you do.”

~~~

There's an exciting mini-project coming out next week! Details here!

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

#a few people wanted to see what would happen when the crew came back here #maybe learn more about the aliens #whyever not #they're interesting #ALSO check out that link about the mini-project #I'll post more about that soon #very excited #my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #haso #hfy #eiad #writeblr

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theology101 · 3 months ago

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A Simple Financial Decision HFY - 1/3

Aboard the Command Ship Mother of Invention

>>> FTL JUMP SUCCESS

>>> BEGINNING SYSTEM SURVEY

>>> ERROR; INTERFERENCE

>>> ANALYZING INTERFERENCE

>>> CHEMICAL AND FISSION EMISSIONS DETECTED

>>> ERROR. PARAMETER ‘uninhabited’ NOT MET

Junior Commander Wa’l Hildnid was not having a good first night on duty. Despite serving on the bridge crew several times, tonight - or what passed for it in the carefully controlled light system meant to match their circadian rhythm - was the first night that Hildnid had command of the bridge. Which of course meant that the first (and hopefully only) unexpected problem came up on his shift. Although perhaps the Celestials were playing a joke on him - after all, the fierce and ruthless Foreman Wa’l Sonogth in charge of this operation, was his uncle.

After a firm rapt on the door and announcing his presence, the door was opened from the other side. Already - or perhaps still - awake, he was hunched over with one of his three eye stalks on a different display. “Report,” he said simply.

“Capt-“ He cringed, reminding himself he was no longer in the Navy, “Master Foreman, - one of our long range probes has encountered an error.”

The question hung for a moment - Sonogth turned one eye towards his nephew. “And?” he asked dryly.

“Oh! Apologies uncl- sir. The system-“

“Which system, Junior Captain?” Foreman Sonogth interrupted, crossing his bulky arms over his chest and foremen’s pin. “Our charter is to strip mine any system within a hundred square parsec region. So far, we have sent out four hundred drones and most have already reached their secondary target.”

“Of course, sir, sorry sir.”

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again - which system?”

Grimacing at failing to answer with his apology, Hildnid was pleased the correct screen was ready. “The star has been codenamed as ZN0-52081, sir, and the error was unexpected life form contact.” Songoth’s eyestalk returned to its central monitor at that.

“Two ice giants and gas giants, an asteroid belt, a habitable planet, and a deathworld, on top of a few dozen barren moons…” his uncle thought aloud, his voice sonorous as he dropped into a contemplative tone. “Too remote for pirates, too much work for colonizers, and not near anyone who could’ve taken it…”

The eyestalk came back up. “Were the life signature Bioforms?”

“No, no sir.” He knew that one, at the very least. There were several ways to tell if one of the Old One’s children was lurking, and none had been present. “What little evidence we have at the moment suggests the usage of traditional, albeit old, spacecraft. No psionic resonance or evidence of interstellar gas manipulation.”

The eyestalk bobbed a nod. “Good, at least we won’t need to deal with any damned Citay.” Wa’l Sonogth sighed, leaning back in his chair and finally turning all three of his eyes to his nephew. “They’re either smugglers or political dissidents illegally occupying our territory. If it’s smugglers, we can pay them off and give them one of our empty systems, if they’re rebellious colonists…”

Wa’l Hildnid swallowed so hard that it seemed to travel through his neck and into his shoulders and chest.

At that, his uncle laughed. “Don’t get squeamish on me, boy! Your mother told me about what a brave military man you are, don’t tell me you never killed before?” The black of his sclera seemed to grow even darker, “if it’s easier on your soul, I’ll make it an order. It’s a simple financial decision.”

“Yes, Master Foreman.”

“Good. Send the probe to its next target, and…” The left eye moved back towards its screen, “order ED-3 to move in. Clan Gis also were a gang of firebreathers…”

“If that will be all, sir?”

“That will be all”

Aboard Mining Ship Salinonk

Captain Ghis Halnfur was looking forward to an extremely profitable day.

In charge of “ED-3” - Excavation and Demolitions Team 3 - and the seven ships that made up that command. Two of them were traditional deep space mining ships, barely a hundred meters long, three more were of the wide bowed transport ships that would carry full loads for processing, two hundred and twenty meters long and capable of safely transporting its precious cargo without additional protection. And of course, his flagship, half again the size of the transports and the most heavily armed, was to act as the command and operations hub for the mining operation, as well as transporting any workers or engineers to ground-based projects - in this case, a legion of Galfrei-class combat units and a platoon of enhanced mining equipment retrofitted into combat-ready suits. And of course, the final ship, and Halnfur’s personal addition to ED-3 - the screening ship.

Taken from his days in the Navy, the idea of point defense protection against fightercrafts and gunships would also work when it came to asteroid mining. Halnfur himself captained the first one deployed, and saw to his immense delight that it could cut through those asteroid fields like air… it simply made it harder to collect them afterward - so instead his poor Lii’lya had been reduced to operations like this, where collateral damage was expected.

Blinking out the white that always came from leaving faster than light, he kept his eyes on the stellar horizon while his communications officer began a survey. “Near distance, clear. Middle distance, clear. Far distance… occupied.”

“Occupied?” Ghis Halnfur’s second in command, Ak’no Jel, asked as he moved to take a better look at the display.

“Yes ma’am,” comms responded. “By… a battle, it looks like,” she paused, another bright flash of light from the viewport, this time significantly smaller and at range. “Yes, it’s a battle, ma’am. The fission signature we just picked up was equivalent to one of our class-4 explosives.”

“Who’s fighting?” Halnfur felt obligated to ask, if no one else would.

“It’s hard to tell from this range, sir, but I’m seeing two distinct ship design styles, maybe three.”

“Are you ready to go in, Captain?” Jel asked, back behind his command chair.

He surveyed the scene for a moment longer, tapping his chin dramatically. “Yes… I believe we shall. Navigations, plot me a skip-jump, pull back a hundred fifty kilometers from the plotted edge of the battle. I want them to know we’re there, but don’t fire yet.” He’d never believed Sonogth’s predictions - and he knew who was behind this whole damn thing - the Citayans. If he could get proof, solid evidentiary proof, that they had not only moved into the Celestia Republica Castelleum, and that they fired first, it would be the airtight justification they needed to finally wipe the Citayans off the galactic map, then their unevolved Citay vermin, and then all the other Bioforms. At least the Citayans didn’t use bloody animals for space-craft.

The flash was proportionally weaker this time - but the battle was not what he expected.

Aboard the War Ship Antioch

Aleksandrya Sokolov-Meyer of the United Nations of Terra and Venus Navy, and captain of the Zeus-class Antioch, was having a terrible day. “Status!” she barked, leaning over the massive command table and wincing at each new red mark on her ships. And they weren’t even supposed to be her ships! “I need those torpedo tubes unjammed!” she yelled to no one in particular.

“Torpedos still down, ma’am, repairs underway!”

“Rio’s Pride is requesting additional firing support!”

“Acknowledged, patch me over to the captain.” It wasn’t looking good for Rio’s Pride. The only destroyer she still had on her left flank, Rio was built for capital ship combat, and the swarm of Jovian Stinger and Biter drones that had just polished off her support ship. “Captain Holt,” Meyer said when she saw a flicker in her periphery.

“Damn, Meyer, its a bloody mess that Gilly left us, isn’t it?” Despite herself, she let out a low chuckle, glancing up through the loose strands of red hair to look at her friend’s face on the screen. He wasn’t looking good, behind him the devastation of his ship was obvious, lights flickering and a disturbingly loud shudder. She was tempted to pretend that this was a simulation again, that this wasn’t real and she had enough time for a clever comeback.

But it was real this time. And with the death of Commodore Gilroy Faux and High Captain Tsoss, Aleksandrya was in command.

And she was about to kill a friend.

“Holt, we can’t send anyone to rescue you,” she said solemnly, turning back to her display and drawing her intentions. “If you yaw fifty degrees starboard and a few clicks further out-“

“I can hit the damn nest.”

“We’ll cover you for as long as we can.”

“Yes ma’am, over and out.” And just like that, exposing itself to more fire and making the battered destroyer even more of a target, Rio’s Pride followed orders. The swarm of drones saw that and gave chase, their hive programming convincing their fellows of better prey than the main battle group. No doubt some kid would notice and correct the mistake eventually, but it wouldn’t be immediate and every second counted.

“Comms Officer Henri, order picket group one to chase those fuckers, then patch me into the rest of the fleet.” The situation had already changed radically from the last time she checked - the enemy formation, surrounding them in a rough U, had begun to collapse inward on the port side as they moved in for the kill, while the automated Jovian ships - primarily their smaller ships though there were two cruisers in there. The Caliphate of Mars was stubbornly holding the rear line as a firing position, uncharacteristically cautious - especially compared to the Jovian Brillenschlangen, of all people - and the ship they were chasing, the only damn reason they were here, the Samel-Class Man of War Big Tex which should’ve been on death’s door, had yet to make an appearance. The only benefit to the situation was that another Jovian carrier had gotten speared through by a CAT-7 coilgun.

Again, the flicker in her periphery, again she began to speak. “Tighten up, those drones are going brainless in a few minutes and I don’t want any of them flying blind in between my ships, you hear? Good - keep your CAT-1s well-oiled, I want you all to coordinate on deflecting incoming projectiles” She glanced up, looking at the faces on her screen. Only thirty-three of the seventy-four ships that came out to Jupiter were still active, and soon it would be thirty-two. “Let’s see Rio be proud one last time and on my mark, I want complete offensive saturation on these targets,” Meyer selected them on her display for them.

Holt’s face popped up, his ship even more damaged with only the emergency lights active and a nasty gash on the side of Holt’s face. Meyer wondered how he got it - she figured that she’d never know. “On your orders, Admiral.”

Despite herself, she smirked. If she could manage to salvage this… but now was not the time to think of her career. Not when she was staring at the one who would give it to her. “Give ‘em hell.” And with a triumphant final firing of its massive primary canon, Rio’s Pride unleashed a two-hundred-ton rod of tungsten-depleted uranium alloy shell at a low, but not insignificant, percentage of the speed of light. The Nest - the hangar and control point for all the drones in the ether - was there one moment. The next, there was a blinding streak of white-yellow fire cutting straight through the thing, and then it began a cascade of errors as things meant to be held securely were suddenly and violently released.

Even knowing it was coming, she braced herself for the violent jerk of the main cannon. “Fire!” a second streak of light emerged, then another and another as dozens of missiles and high-category coil guns were launched at once - not targetting the battleships closest to them, but the undamaged secondary line. Expecting the luxury of a near-endless supply of drones the Jovians had programmed to make suicide rushes to intercept traditional and nuclear ordinance, the Martians were caught off guard by this sudden weakness in their defenses. Already, Aleksandrya could see their CAT-1s and teslogats ready for dealing with this, but not all at once and not nearly fast enough. And every second mattered.

And then, emerging off her starboard side, was a fleet of seven, massive ships. She had a moment of absolute shock and surprise. What? How did they move like that? But that quickly faded when the lead ship, a massive thing as long as her Zeus but much, much larger and heavier, rammed directly into Rio’s Pride.

Aboard Mining Ship Salinonk

“Blasted!” Captain Ghis Halnfur shouted, standing to his full two-meter height, his eyestalks pulled in tight to the skull. “Jel, I want to know what the hell is going on, Comms, tell the flotilla to open fire.”

“Captain-“

“They set a trap for us, Jel. I don’t know how, but they knew we were there...”

“Captain…”

“A damn trap, and Sonogth sent us-“

“Captain!” Jel said it forcefully enough that others stared - only for a moment before they risked one of her eyestalks finding them. “None of those ships exist in our records.”

“What?”

“They’re unknown configuration,” Jel repeated.

“I know what unknown configuration means, commander, what I meant was-“ One of the five ships closest, and turned directly to face Halnfur’s force, exploded as a few shots lanced from one of his transports. And at that, he grinned. “Ah, nevermind. We seem more familiar with their configuration now. No shields? How did they even make it through FTL?”

The Captain and Commander watched the battle for a moment, before Halnfur finally sat down in his chair, watching as the ships - and there were indeed three distinct designs, began to create a new line of battle. Clearly, whatever battle they had been fighting seemed to be forgotten against a superior enemy. A feral smile colored his face before Jel said something that made his heart stop.

“What if this is their home system and we made first contact?”

Aboard the War Ship Antioch

“I don’t care what you say, but that arschloch on this line, now!” Aleksandrya looked up just in time to see another CAT-9 shot get mostly disintegrated before whatever melted slag could be reformed in the coldness of space. “Come on you martian bastard, come on…”

“I assure you, ma’am, that Jamil MacCready is not here!” High General Sakira Morrison of the Jovian Coalition said. At least the fotze had picked up, which was more than could be said for that Martian Coward. “But the Martian troops have been placed under my temporary command while they recieve humanitarian repairs, as-"

“Humanitarian? He’s a murderer!”

“As we were given the right to by treaty. It was your forces under Commodore Faux that an illegal-“

“Halst den Mund! - Euphrates, Flaming Sword,” the two captains flickered on screen and this time, she did look at them. One clearly favored more of the Arab side of the “TexArab” people of Mars, while the other was more ambiguous - both were men, and oh what she wouldn’t give to hear them complain about being subordinate to two women. “One of those energy balls is coming at you both, nadir-starboard. I want to see how big of a coil shot it takes to defuse. General Morrison, are your crews in formation ready for a massed volley?”

“The battleships, yes, but it’ll take the drones-“

“Comms, patch me into all ships,” Aleksandrya said with certainty she didn’t have. Removing her officer’s cap to fix her hair, she instead tossed the damn thing away, pulled out her pins, and shook out her hair. If she was gonna die fighting an unknown evil from beyond God knows what, she wasn’t going to do it by regulation. “This is acting Admiral Aleksandrya Solokov-Meyer of the Antioch - on my first mark, coordinate Coil fire onto this target,” she tapped it on her display, “Upon my second mark, fire traditional ordinance - third fire nuclear. Ready… mark.”

There was the familiar lunge backward as the gun fired, joined in a loose arrowhead formation with the broken hulk of the Nest acting as their anchoring point. While not all ships could fire given the angle, the effect was all that she could’ve hoped for. As the first rounds made contact, they began to superheat, melt, and vaporize as before… but then the second, third, and fourth were all landing in the same spot too. And then, that etheric blue bubble that surrounded those ships began to bend inwards with a burning red fury… until it couldn’t bend anymore. The rounds hadn’t even all made their target before she called “Mark!”

This motion was more subdued, as the still working torpedo bays launched too - straight into the hole they had just created in the shield, and not just the shield - somehow in that stream of light, they’d cracked the hull. Meyer imagined that the follow up missiles didn’t do much for the ship’s internals either, and this wouldn’t be much better. “Mark!” The barrier was already starting to close up, the cruiser was still opening fire… and then the nuclear missiles got inside the ship. Several dozen missiles exploded on the exterior of the shield in massive shows of light, but the dozen or two that made it underneath the shields before detonating?

For a brief moment, Jupiter had its own sun. And then the shield burst like an overfilled balloon.

“I want confirmation the second your guns are ready for another volley, we’re hitting him next.” She looked back at her display of Captains… having more faces with proportionally even more empty spots didn’t thrill her, but she knew the bastards could die. And that was good enough. “High General, I want an update on those drones, and for the love of God, someone get Jamil MacCready - or at least his ship!”

Aboard Mining Ship Salinonk

His flotilla was sent to pacify the whole system, Ghis Halfnur thought ruefully as he watched his last transport ship get destroyed. It was just him and the Screener left. “Jel?”

The woman had been trying to help coordinate fire with the weapon’s commander but came at his command. “Captain?”

“We never managed to do our full recon,” he said moreosely. It was his own fault, his own overconfidence. Removing his captain’s lapel from his uniform, he handed it to Jel. “Take one of our shuttles, take as much non essential personnel as possible, and then complete a survey of this system before reporting to your commanding officer.”

“Sir- that’s-“

“Foreman Wa’l Sonogth will want to know about this. And if you’re right about this being their native system…” Halfnur shook his head. They were doomed. No way about it now. Even if he could still win this fight - and given the numbers against him, he didn’t like those odds - as the commander on the scene who had belligerently initiated contact with a pre-uplift species, his life was forfeit. The Celestial Tribunal would ring him dry, probably most of his crew and commanding officer. “In your logs, write how you argued against my course of action, and wanted to file a report to the Castelleum and I countermanded you. Now go!”

Always a good sailor, Ak’no Jel did as she was told. He had confirmation that she and the evacuees made it on the ship, and waited another five minutes to make sure they were gone before he gave what would be his last, most bitter order. “We’re going in.”

Aboard the War Ship Antioch

The battlecruiser and spindly ships were the only two left - and for a moment, Aleksandrya had thought she had won. Or at the very least, was winning. For that act of pride, God decided that the placid, so far only supporting ships with its long-range fire. That seemed to be over now, now it was going to be a broadside.

“Admira Meyer, the drones are online,” a both familiar and unfamiliar voice said over comms, the signal shakey and broken.

“I want them running picket, sofort! If any fucking plasma gets through, it’s your ass!” Meyer was already turning to the weapons board, seeing that it was only at 90% charge… and the battlecruiser was getting closer with only missiles harmlessly bouncing off to show for it. But her secondary weapons… “Lower caliber until your main gun is fully charged, he’s not getting an inch without steel,” she ended that call, already having Comms initiating her second, “Admiral Meyer, do you read me Virgo I?”

“Loud and clear ma’am,” the voice sounded winded on the other side, the tight confines of a cockpit not allowing a view. “What can me and my jockeys do for you today?”

“That smaller ship, I want you to poke at it. Bring two squadrons with you…” she paused, thinking. With only teslogats and missiles, the hundreds of fighters wouldn’t do anything to the big ship. Short of just ramming it, she couldn’t see what the rest of the fighters would be doing. “Take as many as want to come.”

“Yes ma’am - think your Comms get can get me over to their jockeys?”

“She’s already on it - Henriette is very skilled.”

“Why thank you, Commander Henriette, over and out!”

Meyer looked back at the display of the field - already she was down two of her bigger ships (a part of her wanted to add ‘thankfully, Martians’ but she restrained herself) and a dozen smaller ones. And her firing predictions still had it a click out from its maximum range. If those drones didn’t show up -

“Fighters pull back! Repeat, pull back!” It was a laser show over there. While having never taken a shot at any other vessels so far, it became abundantly clear why - it didn't have the range. The powerful plasma jets burned through any fighter unfortunate enough to get too close. “General, where are my drones? Fuck it, drones, this is your new primary target. Are all cannons ready? Good, on my mark - mark!”

Only this time, this time the brilliant display of light didn’t end with a hole. When the light cleared, it was the imposing blue of the shield bursting out through the debris cloud with only a few minor red spots, its impish friend chasing after her fighters untouched. “Prepare a second volley! Reroute power, shut down gravity for all I care, just get those damn guns ready or we’re all dead!”

“Don’t be so certain of it, Admiral,” the same voice from before, only far, far clearer now. And without the static and fuzz… she knew that voice. Thousands of drone ships came rushing by the viewport, creating a cloud of grey and blinking lights that covered the horizon before passing. “I apologize for arriving late but, my father always did teach me ladies first.”

“MacCready,” she snarled under her breath.

“Ah, so you remember me? As you can tell, my ship doesn’t remember either of ours from our most recent or first dance.”

“Ma’am, a new signature just appeared as… leaving Jupiter’s upper atmosphere,” Henriette said hesitantly. “Samael-Class, and moving quickly. Designation-“

“Big Tex.”

“If you hadn’t done such a wonderful job damaging her, I might’ve been able to help from the beginning,” the man’s cocky voice echoed in the bridge speakers, Meyer’s face turning as red as her hair as his ship quickly advanced towards the enemy. She was going to kill that man. For his crimes, for the Moscow and her old crew, and for stealing her fucking victory! Already, she was watching as the drones broke against the enemy ship like the sea, dozens dying but always being just a few too many to get them all. And the shield was turning red. “Ganymede Spaceworks also added something new, I was hoping to surprise you at our next dance but… well, a Prince must make sacrifices for the good of the people, even if it scorns his lady love.”

All it took was a glance, and Henriette had cut off his comm. “Fucking prick,” she added for good measure.

Drifting into formation above the battered and broken Hive was a Samael-Class Man Of War. Over a kilometer long and with more than enough firepower to match three Zeus classes, the massive primary gun was its primary characteristic… only now it was even more massive, with two isosceles triangles coming from what should’ve been the barrel. And then, in a single shot, a massive round moved in an instant - she barely had time to see it before it had punched straight through the shield, the ship, and then out the other side of the shield.

Not wanting him to get the last laugh, “Main gun on the spindly.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A rod of Tungsten later and Aleksandrya was mollified enough to call her query. The man she and all of Task Force Chancellor had been sent to capture in the first fucking place. “Jamil MacCready.”

“It’s customary to use my title when greeting me.”

“What was that?”

“Ah, you like my new tachyon-enhanced coilgun? It’s brand new! Honestly worked better then I could’ve-“ Aleksandrya ended the call herself.

“Helm, take us to Venus Blue Dock. We’re going home.” To fix my ship, reconstitute my numbers, and figure out what the hell we’re going to do next.

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