After the Eleto resistance confirmed the destruction of the Axis spaceport and attending groundbase, especially regarding the deaths of the colonial enclave Governor Xanmar and Besvet, the overall commander of Axis ground and orbital forces, a set of long-awaited plans were set into motion.  With government and broadcasting contacts the call of liberation was sent to the planet’s populace. A summary of what happened at the spaceport as well as the approach of an alien fleet that was fighting the Axis was announced, as well as the implications. To further encourage the people to take up the cause it was stated that no formal surrender was made to the Axis forty-five years previous, all agreements being made under duress with the implied use of nuclear bombardment for non-compliance. As such, the war between the Eleto and the Axis was merely paused as far as anyone was concerned. The resistance informed all listeners that they were currently engaging Axis forces on the planet, and that any Eleto that comes across Axis personnel were obligated to either attack them on sight or inform higher authority. Those few Anti-Abomination Security Police personnel that were still in the field after the Commonwealth Fleet broke into the system days earlier were treated to protracted deaths via the use of improved weapons and materials, including one where a building was collapsed onto a disabled but occupied ASP vehicle.

Behind the scenes of all forms and levels of government on Eletoshani Prime engaged in a vigorous house cleaning. Those that collaborated with the Axis over the years and still had shreds of a conscious turned themselves in. Others that had secretly profited in their Axis dealings, the quislings (a far harsher and condemning term), either resisted violently, committed suicide, or tried to flee, only to get snagged by resistance teams already in place days earlier. Their public broadcast trials in the months ahead were a much need catharsis for the Eleto population.

The government went into an emergency session that first evening. Enough uncompromised representatives remained to validate the process, and in another display of defiance the proceedings were broadcast live. The first item on the agenda was the reestablishment of the Eletoshani in space. The city of Millstand was chosen as the site for the new spaceport, a display of monumental contempt against the Axis, and various motions to set up training academies, contracting construction and manufacturing firms, and rationalizing all the sundry other details in committees was made.

For the second item it was for the establishment of an army with the purpose of neutralizing the Axis presence on Eleto and for the reclamation of Evergreen, the other habitable planet in the system and whose Eleto population was purged in the years after it was conquered. Obviously, it will take the development of space transportation for the latter to happen, but with the Axis colonial enclave to be dealt with the army would’ve received some experience in the interim. All the requisite items needed were again delegated to committees. Those spacers and army veterans alive and able were called upon to volunteer, but it turned out they were already clamoring to be employed. As a result, there was no lack of instructors for both naval and army training centers and the eventually reestablishment of military academies.

Only two days later in the emergency session did the topic of the Commonwealth fleet was brought up. The Chairman of the Assembly simply announced that a ‘gentleman’s agreement’ had been reached with Commonwealth representatives to provide army support in dealing with those Axis army units still outside of the enclave, especially those units equipped with mobile cruise missile launchers. The Chairman said that, for the time being, a group of talented civilians was conducting sanctioned talks with the Commonwealth, but everyone concluded that he meant the resistance.

********

The landing site for the cutter was at an abandoned farmstead that now served as a command post for the Eleto resistance. Over a dozen 30-meter-tall radio poles were erected along with tents that housed their power packs and other equipment. The cutter landed silently, and with hatch opened the second alien race to stand on the surface of Eleto made its appearance. On his part, Mr. Nisecu Lake congratulated himself for keeping his composure on the first face-to-face meeting with a Crajen, a member race of the Commonwealth. Looking at an image of the representative beforehand wasn’t the same thing when he was just two meters away. He had to remind himself that he was looking at a sentient being and not an ocean-dwelling crustacean writ large. Major Crosscut, having met with representatives of other Commonwealth members, was more casual, taking in the Eleto’s form. From feet to eyestalks, the Eleto was 1.5 meters tall, whereas Crosscut stood at 1.2 meters. Both races had four legs and four eyestalks, giving them two points of commonality, though he wondered if Mr. Lake was apprehensive about his pair of crusher claws. He drew them back to the underside of his shell and extended his two hand-equipped limbs, palms open. Lake took this as a sign to talk, hoping that his portable translation pack he wore was up to snuff.

After the preliminaries the talks continued in a tent. Crosscut learned that of the 40,000 Comensal civilians in the colonial enclave some 8,000 were evacuated to Evergreen. 2,000 more were believed to have perished when the spaceport was destroyed. Axis Army personnel numbered 12,000 with at least half having been moved within the enclave proper and the rest still out in the field, mostly assigned to mobile cruise missile batteries tasked to destroy broadcast transmitters in a bid to hamper governmental coordination. Regarding the ASP some 8,000 of the 12,000 agents reached the enclave, leaving 4,000 behind in a forlorn bid to maintain the illusion of control before recalling them at the last moment. Lake stated that it was just a matter of time before those now-abandoned agents were ‘dealt with.’ Despite the accented translation Crosscut sensed the harsh, stone-heavy tone Lake used with those last words. Perhaps it helped that both Eleto and Crajen used their eyes and eyestalks to put emphasis on their spoken word. As for the remaining 6,000 Comensal they were naval personnel. Those assigned to the spaceport and groundbase were, of course, now dead with the remainder in the enclave as part of the Science Development Bureau.

Lake was straightforward in his request for help. The destruction of Axis Army units in the field as well as their missile batteries was top priority. Orbital kinetic strike technology was known to the Eleto resistance as they obtained captured documentation from the Axis, and in those documents was information about the Commonwealth using such technology in Axis systems such as Bedrock and Bulwark. If necessary, Lake told Crosscut, written authorization can be obtained from the Assembly Chairman for use of kinetic strikes as directed by appointed Eleto representatives. Crosscut affirmed that he would pass on the request to Admiral Coopersmith.

Another immediate need was the destruction of Axis satellites and broad-spectrum jamming of radio frequencies. While this wouldn’t help regarding deployed Axis army units, as they were operating independently, it would help keep the enclave blind with their observation satellites destroyed and leave them unable to contact Evergreen. Crosscut said that this was already in progress, and that surveillance support for Eleto ground forces can be provided. Intercepting cruise missiles was a much harder proposition as the Axis could just fire them off, not bothering to go after broadcast sites but simply target random cities out of spite and impotent rage. Hearing the last part of Crosscut’s sentence made Lake involuntary chuckle. He excused himself, saying that the Axis would soon learn just how impotent they really were. With a preliminary agreement, both parties informed their respective higher ups. A formal declaration of support was made and signed in under eight hours at the capital city airport.

*******

It was five months later. The Commowealth fleet had long since disposed of the orbit works, bases and military ground instillations over and on Evergreen. Just two task elements remained; one to keep tabs over Evergreen, treating any suspicious planetary movement as well as industrial infrastructure to kinetic bombardment while another held station over Eleto, along with the necessary logistical support ships and transports holding 10,000 Crajen soldiers. Only a handful were needed, serving as spotters to call down kinetic strikes on even the smallest concentrations of Axis Army troops. The Eleto expressed their appreciation for all the assistance provided but made it clear that the attack on the colonial enclave will be solely an Eleto affair.

System Admiral Wanfel, head of the Science Development Bureau branch on Eleto Prime, had long since resigned himself that the damnable Eleto abominations will eventually attack. He was looking towards the western horizon on an observation platform atop the research building in the colonial enclave. There had been no communication with Evergreen as Commonwealth ships planted themselves in orbit over the enclave and jammed all radio frequencies. Even the few hardwired comm cables running to disguised transmitters hundreds of kilometers away had been cut, save one, no doubt due to the work of the Eleto resistance. On that remaining cable was live broadcasts of Eleto content, ranging from coverage of governmental proceedings, entertainment and educational programs, and advertisements. Some were downright provocative, with one example being a schoolroom setting of children being taught how to best incapacitate a Comensal. Hitting the groin and buttocks was said to render a ‘bonehead’ unconscious the fastest, with children gleefully hitting a padded mannequin hanging from a noose like it was a party decoration. Wanfel assigned the most junior of his staff to monitor the content for anything of intelligence value. All he got was increasingly despondent and irritated officers. He had them stop after scenes of ASP agents being graphically killed were played as part of a program to ‘psych up’ the Eleto populace in the impending attack on the enclave.

Prime Commander Konset, Wanfel’s adjutant, climbed the ladder and stood next to his superior. “Sir, there’s been movement all along the perimeter this morning. What appears to be thousands of motorized carts have gathered just outside of artillery range to the west. There are at least 60,000 troops out there. Our recon drones have an appalling attrition rate. The damn abominations are even using trained birds to knock out our drones.”

Wanfel sighed. “Pity we can’t shell them. Given the range, our cannons, mortars and rockets will be swatted down by their point defense batteries. No doubt provided by those Commonwealth bastards, but I won’t put it pass those thrice-damned Eleto that they built their own systems in the past few months. Why the previous First Leaders wanted to keep them around in the first place will be beyond me.”

“Strange that they didn’t even try shelling of their own, Sir,” Konset said. “They have the resources of an entire planet and the technical know-how to mass produce even simple artillery, and that’s not even mentioning rockets. Perhaps they currently lack the numbers that will guarantee oversaturation of our artillery defense.” He had a point. The enclave was a circle a little over six kilometers in diameter, surrounded by a berm ten meters high, ten meters wide and with a 30-degree slope on either side. Atop the berm were hatches for pop-up 70mm guns with attending sensors. Spread equally along the perimeter, each gun had a 50% overlap with its neighbor for they served to engage incoming artillery rounds as well as any attempt at a ground attack. Artillery firing in direct-fire mode, in large enough numbers, might overwhelm a portion of the berm defenses to create a breach, but it will take hundreds of guns to accomplish. A few railguns could do it, but being such intense power hogs…

An alarm klaxon wailed to life, and down below soldiers manning strongpoints retreated into shelters for the sound of the klaxon was specific. Konset touched his comm earpiece, listening intently before speaking. “Sir, orbital observation has detected at least one thousand small objects converging over the enclave. They’re believed to be kinetic bombardment satellites.”

Wanfel let out a labored guffaw. “Damned walking stumps, they made their Commonwealth friends do the dirty work for them. Why did they wait this long? Wanted to make us marinate in our own apprehension with their insipid attempts of intimation?” He then yelled out to the distance. “Why don’t you send in those schoolchildren with their swatting sticks while you’re at it, damn fools!”

“Sir, please, get to the command post.” This was the first time in the past five months Konset seen his superior in this state. Wanfel was the only surviving senior officer in the enclave, and was by default the overall commander of all military forces on the planet. No doubt had there been a protocol in place he would’ve ordered the nuclear bombardment of Eleto while there were still missile bases in orbit after the death of Governor Xanmar and Admiral Besvet. Getting him to focus on immediate command needs would alleviate the pent-up frustration he obviously was experiencing.

“Very well, Konset. If they want to kill us, then they must make a greater effort.”

The observed objects were indeed kinetic bombardment satellites, but were of Eleto, not Commonwealth, in origin. Being bright, industrial people, the Eleto scientists and engineers put the acquired Comensal plans for the kinetic system into production just two months after what came to known as Restoration Day. The factories involved went all out, producing the weapon as fast as they could be married to the rockets that would carry them into orbit. Launches started just days before, all coinciding so that they arrived over the enclave at the same time. A Commonwealth cruiser served as the controller, assigning targets. Not within the enclave, but along the perimeter berm. An Eleto officer, a grizzled naval veteran that survived ten years of bone breaking labor in an Axis-run prison camp, had the honor of pressing the commit button. Accelerating to 10% of the speed of light there was no hope of even Providence intervention that the defensive berm guns intercepting the kinetic projectiles. It was utter devastation all along the top of the berm, inflicting craters where the defensive guns used to be, and the 70mm ammunition magazines exploded in sympathy. The profanity spouted by Axis observers had to been imagined, but certainly it was epic in volume and descriptiveness.
 
The Eleto had indeed assembled any army, 100,000 strong. There were thousands of simple, three-seat off-road 4-wheel carts that were little more than frames with a roof to offer passing protection from shrapnel. Along with them were motorcycles made for Eleto physiology. What they lacked in protection was more than made up with speed, and vehicles were purposely built to last just for a few days as the power cells couldn’t be recharged, all for the sake of lower cost and expediency.

Other specialized vehicles moved ahead. A two-kilometer zone around the enclave was lousy with buried anti-personnel and anti-vehicle mines. Arranged to create a path fifty meters wide the vehicles created two lanes, one from the northwest and southwest respectively, each mine-clearing vehicle carried a pair of explosive-laden mesh rolls that were 100-meters long. It took time to create the lanes, and despite losing all their berm guns the Axis Army units still had artillery of their own and commenced shelling as soon as the shock of the kinetic bombardment wore off, even though the Eleto still had their anti-artillery active and moving up with each new set of mine clearance vehicles. They went with two lanes as there was no road access to the enclave, which could only be accessed by VTOL aircraft and the now useless and sealed off transit tunnel to the destroyed spaceport.

It would’ve been better had the Axis artillery stayed silent and waited until the now-ruined berm perimeter crawled with Eleto. By firing now, they revealed their presence to Eleto observation satellites. What came next were hundreds of drones, all controlled via comm lasers from those satellites and thus immune to jamming. Operating those drones were college students given a month’s training, all motivated to do their part in the war and even more so for those that lost relatives over the years due to the depredations of ASP agents. Footage was broadcasted live and unfiltered across the planet. When the first drone came upon a 135mm gun pit it flew into gap between the ground and camo tarp and delivered its 5-kilo canister of hyper napalm. The sight of five Comensal soldiers running out of the pit, fully ablaze and with only their screaming being silenced as the ammunition cooked off in an explosion that put them out of their misery. The comm cable feed controlled by the Eleto into the enclave was reactivated, showing delayed footage of drone attacks. After witnessing the third attack Wanfel ordered that no one was to watch the footage on the pain of being shot on the spot. Even Konset had to agree, accepting that it was no good to get addled by things one cannot control.

For the Army and ASP personnel it came as a relief as the first Eleto vehicles came up and over intact parts of the berm. They had seen more of their number either being burned or blasted by drones in the interim. Especially those that were on fire, running towards them in a forelorn hope of assistance and survival, the Comensal cut them down in what they told themselves was to save their dignity. But really, it was an attempt to forestall the swelling tide of fear they felt in their guts. Even with their developed sense of kinesthesia, shooting down drones with guns not designed for the task was challenging. Worse yet, those drones equipped with weapons that ran out of ammunition became rammers, exploding on contact with their embedded 2-kilo charges of explosives.

The Eleto carts ran up as close as they could get to the first set of buildings before depositing their passengers; the drivers immediately returned to the assembly areas to pick up more troops. Motorcycle drivers went even further, getting into what was the western portion of civilian housing. They served as directors for drones, calling in strikes on known and suspected Axis sniper positions, and what positions. Every Comensal house was a two-story affair with a two-story covered tower on the roof that served as a dining place, most often in pleasant summer and fall weather. To make the snipers honest, every one of those towers was attacked, either with a 30mm grenade filled with kaboomite or a 1-kilogram load of hyper napalm. Give them credit, the snipers did manage to shoot down a handful of drones, but the Eleto built tens of thousands of drones, and were willing to expend even up to five drones to kill one sniper. And when drones weren’t used then portable one-shot kinetic weapons were employed, which simply obliterated the towers. Despite their bravado and chauvinism that could choke a quadruped, a notable number of snipers abandoned their positions as they witnessed their fellows being utterly massacred.

It was now late afternoon. In the bunker located under the SDB building Wanfel watched as the Eleto overran the city like rising flood waters. He didn’t put it past the abominations knowing every street, building, and bunker in the enclave. In fact, all buildings in the enclave have bunkers, a standard feature of all Comensal colonies. Those for civilians were underground and proof against all but high-yield nuclear and antimatter explosions. Kinetic impactors moving at 10% light-speed were an entirely different matter. He could only spare a moment on wondering why they didn’t simply use the kinetic system and wipe out the enclave at little cost to themselves when a fresh alert caught his attention. “Sir,” said Konset from the operations table, “there are now over 40,000 Eleto within the enclave. 3,000 of that number are known casualties. All three rings of civilian housing have been overrun, and they’re concentrating on the western quadrant, forming a wedge. It appears they’re heading for the center of the enclave.”

“What’s our estimated remaining troop strength?” Wanfel said tersely.

“We’re down to 2,000 Army soldiers, Admiral. As for the ASP personnel, there are 6,000 remaining, mainly due to them being concentrated in the central core. They have been… reluctant to advance to reinforce key Army locations.”

“Damn jumped-up policemen.” Wanfel practically spat out the words. He looked at the display built into the top of the table. “Going into the heart of enemy territory is something any army can do. And what do we have at the center of the enclave? ASP Headquarters, this Bureau, and the Administrative Complex.” He adjusted the view, focusing on the latter building. “See, on the top of the Complex, Konset? It’s our flag, and like any army those Eleto abominations will seize that flag, boosting their morale.” Just then the security camera that was trained on the Complex caught sight of a drone. It was a quad rotor, and apparently it spotted the camera. The drone titled to the left, then the right, and in a burst of speed flew at the camera. The screen blurred and went dark.

“They took out the camera, and several others at the same time,” Konset said with resignation. “They knew where they were mounted. Stolen data, had to be, Sir. Not one Eleto has ever set foot in the enclave, aside from a slab in the biology lab.”

Wanfel looked fit to eat nails. “I’ve come to a decision, Konset. All ASP personnel, and I do mean all personnel, even the secretaries, are to take positions around and in the Administrative Complex. They are to guard the flag flying above the Complex down to their last breath and drop of blood. Any hesitancy, any ‘smack talk’ will be dealt with immediately.” He looked Konset in the eye. “I hereby authorize all non-ASP personnel to shoot on sight any ASP member that refuses to carry out my orders.”

“As you command, Admiral,” said Konset, secretly thankful that he was in a bunker and not outside in the ever-growing hellstorm.

It got even worse that evening. Now 55,000 Eleto were in the city as the stream of incoming and outgoing carts didn’t stop. Fresh troops, weapons and ammo came in; the wounded, the recoverable dead and firsthand intelligence came back. Tactics changed; instead of outright destroying the towers on civilian housing drones fired grenades filled with black smoke. Unlike black smoke used by Axis forces elsewhere, this version was modified by the Eleto to chemically break down the filters used on Axis gas masks. Snipers and isolated knots of soldiers that thought themselves immune now found themselves uncontrollably choking, stumbling to leave the black clouds of death only to die by gunfire and bodily slammed and killed by exploding drones.

The Administrative Complex was at the center of the enclave, and surrounding it was a 200-meter-wide strip that served as an open-air plaza with lines of trees and benches at regular intervals. Crossing that strip was tantamount to a death wish, for every window from the Complex had to be treated as holding snipers, machine gun or light autocannon nests. This was fine as far as the Eleto were concerned as they had planned for this contingency. Teams equipped with 60mm recoilless rifles fired shell after shell filled with the modified black smoke into the windows while snipers and counter-snipers traded shots. The black smoke was having its effect, for even Axis snipers couldn’t aim while choking, their gas filters utterly failing.

A flight of 1,000 drones arrived and hovered over the Complex with dozens peeling away and entering the building through broken windows and into rooms darkened by black smoke. They were operating autonomously and were the most expensive drones built due to that autonomy. Armaments were mixed, from assault shotguns, grenade launchers, laser-guided rockets and flame cloud incendiary bottles. Targeting parameters were exclusively based on Comensal physiology; that is to say, bipedal. After the first 200 drones entered the Complex the order was given. En masse, over 4,000 Eleto ran the distance to get to the huge building along with a sprinkling of carts and motorcycles. A handful of casualties were incurred, but at the expense of those Comensal willing to suffocate to death as the interior of their lungs were coated with black smoke residue. Only at this point were a handful of the portable kinetic weapons brought forward. They utterly obliterated all four entrances, allowing the Eleto to enter, the first ones firing their grenade launchers until their clips ran dry, all the while more autonomous drones flew inside, single-mindedly fixed on killing all Comensal they spotted. All the Eleto wore gas masks, obviously made to handle the altered black smoke.

The Administrative Complex building was far larger than what was needed for the colonial enclave. With an eye on what they saw as the inevitable future, the Comensal intended the enclave to be the capital of Eleto once the abominations were finally exterminated. It was eight stories of arrogance clad in an exterior of white marble, all of which were cut, shaped and polished by POW labor in the first three years of occupation. Gold and platinum-accented artworks and edging were everywhere, but in dozens of battles across several floors all that splendor went unnoticed if not outright destroyed. Eleto soldiers advanced by grenade, and what flushed-out Axis soldiers they didn’t get with gunfire the drones did. It became a common sight to find decapitated Comensal for the autonomous drones, once out of ammo, committed ramming attacks and detonating their built-in explosive charges, with Comensal heads being the aiming point.

Konset witnessed this on a bunker monitor until the ceiling mounted camera at the Complex’s northern entrance was destroyed by gunfire, further proof that the damn abominations knew the layout of the Complex. He looked to Wanfel, the older man personally directing a platoon of soldiers over a comm link to interpose themselves between the Eleto and main stairwell leading to the roof. Then a brainwave hit Konset. He put his back to Wanfal as he accessed the cable feed from the Eleto. It was showing a live shot of the exterior of the Administrative Complex. He muted the sound, but imagined the cheers as, minutes later, the Eleto emerged on the roof. The proud flag of the Asteroid Axis was hauled down and taken away, no doubt to be displayed in a damn abomination museum in the future. A drone swooped in and dropped a package. It turned out to be the flag of the Eletoshani Academy. It went up the pole, the roof spotlights illuminating it in all its splendor. Konset dared by raising the volume ever so slightly, and in doing so learned that the flag was the only one to be saved at the capitol 45-years ago from being destroyed by ASP agents tasked to eliminate the symbols of Eleto governance.

An unconscious pang made Konset turn off the feed, turning at the same moment that Wanfel did. “Konset, the abominations are now heading directly for our bunker entrance. You are to destroy the remaining databanks and transmitters. If they capture them, they’ll be able to remotely activate the emergency beacons of all the surviving soldiers out in the field.”

“Yes, Sir. Are you going to remain here?”

Wanfel unholstered his laser pistol and held it with deliberate malice. “I will stay here along with the technicians and take down as many abominations as Providence will allow us. It has been an honor working alongside you, Commander.”

“Likewise, Admiral. Good luck.” Konset smartly saluted and went deeper into the bunker. He wondered how many Eleto Wanfel was going to shoot before all was said and done.

********

Eight days later. The colonial enclave was still a site of activity, though it was for the removal of bodies and clearing of debris. A significant portion of the Eleto Army remained within the enclave as there were still 30,000 Comensal civilians present, living in the bunkers under their homes with enough supplies to last three years. However, there was a chance that some or all of them could emerge and resume the fighting, so patrols and observation posts were set up.

Prime Commander Konset, for the eighth day in a row, wondered why the Eleto kept him alive. He remembered destroying the equipment and databanks as ordered by Wanfel, followed by a deafening sound and an explosion of light. After that he found himself on a bed inside his house, located in the inner ring of housing in the enclave. Eleto guarded him around the clock, and only allowed him access to certain rooms, and the gunsafe was removed. It was enforced boredom, and he had no idea what was to become of himself. So, it came as a relief on the eighth day that he was summoned to the Administrative Complex in his full-dress uniform. Whatever was going to happen at the very least he would look good.

Instead of a car or even a cart Konset was made to walk the distance, escorted by just two Eleto and a drone. Correction: the only drone that he could see. Along the way he noted the signs of violence wrought by weapons fire on various houses and structures, and when it came to the Administrative Complex it was as bad as he expected. All the windows he could see were busted, and stains from black smoke ran up the white marble façade. Divots of said marble were also gouged out by errant recoilless rifle shells and kaboomite-filled grenades. The western entrance was remarkably clear, and there was even work being done on installing new doors. Helping with the work was a Crajen; it fit the intelligence briefing Konset received earlier in the war. The giant crustacean waved hand-equipped front limbs at him while his pair of crusher claws clacked open and closed in a menacing manner. Konset averted his eyes from the intimidating display.

Inside Konset was taken to an elevator that exclusively went to the office of the Governor, atop the massive building. This would be the second time he ever went to that office, with the first being when he arrived on Eleto years ago and was personally greeted by Governor Xanmar. The elevator stopped and the doors opened into a reception area. Unlike the other rooms in the building, it was pristine, giving one the impression that the secretary had just stepped out for a moment. One of the Eleto pressed a button on the secretary’s desk, and the doors to the office opened. Konset walked in with his two escorts behind him.

The Governor’s office was large, in the shape of an oval, with windows on the west and east sides. Along the walls were paintings depicting the victories of the Comensal race. From the beastial looking Lauset to the inoffensive Hamthen each image was meant to stroke the ego of a race that prided itself on being the supreme beings that had the favor of Providence. What pride Konset felt was instantly squashed when he saw he wasn’t alone. At both west and east windows was an Eleto, with one of them affecting a particularly disconcerting pair of smiles. On either side of the huge desk were four Eleto, sitting in adjustable chairs so that their mouths could be seen above the desktop. And standing, not sitting, in the governor’s chair was an Eleto that gave off the aire of leadership. His pair of smiles were thin before he talked.

“Good morning, Prime Commander Konset. Please take a seat.” said the Eleto, indicating the chair designed for a Comonsal in front of the desk. His words were translated into Comensal, courtesy of the audio receiver he had on his chest and the office computers. Instead of a flat monotone the abomination used the deceased governor’s voice. It was unsettling to hear it, coming from a pair of wall speakers like a principal addressing an assembly of students. “I’m Mr. Lake. Over there, at the west windows, is Mr. Smiler, and at the east is Mr. Brant. They’ll keep you honest, along with the other eight here in attendance.” Lake motioned with his back pair of hands, and the two escorts left the room and closed the doors behind them. “I noticed you gazing at the paintings. Very intricate and detailed work, though I must say there are inaccuracies. I had a talk with some Commonwealth friends. The Uan race,” Lake pointed to that depiction, “have not been exterminated, but it was near thing. The Hamthen,” again pointing to the mentioned painting, “while dealt grievous losses, have made a commendable resurgence and are even actively participating in prosecuting the war with their allies against the Asteroid Axis. Finally, there’s my race. That is what my people call eating the cake before it’s fully baked. Technically, it’s food but the taste leaves much to be desired.”

“You brought me here just to vent your spleen, or whatever you’re using as a substitute?” Konset said cooly. He made himself not to go into histrionics, which is probably what these Eleto want him to do. “Was no one else available?”

“To be honest, yes, Mr. Konset. Your superior, Wanfel, took a concussion grenade to the chest and died from cardiac arrest. Also, you’re the only officer left. Yes, the only officer left alive in the enclave. The rest all went down fighting; even the ASP agents found their spines in the end.”

Konset smiled. “They remembered that they were Comensal.”

Lake returned the smile twice over. “Before I go on to the subject of my spleen venting, I’ll like to give you an update on current events. The new spaceport is well on the way to completion, and our first ships are scheduled to start construction in two months. In orbit the beginnings of a new space station have taken shape, and our various technical schools and academies are turning out engineers, technicians, spacers and soldiers. We’re now flying shuttles and pinnaces, and by the end of the year we will be landing troops on Evergreen to reclaim it for the Academy. And, via the good graces of the Commonwealth, we even began trade with a race called the Inna, just two transits out and accessible via a closed warp point in the Porch system. The very same warp point that allowed the Commonwealth to conduct the liberation of our system from your Axis.”

Konset raised a bony eyebrow. “It sounds like you’re the one eating unfinished cake. The Asteroid Axis will endure, grow stronger, and come back and do what it should’ve done in the first place.”

Lake’s eyestalks wiggle slightly, a sign of bemusement. “Oh, thank you, thank you, Mr. Konset. Now that you presented your position paper I can now go on with my temperamental spleen.” He pointed to an object on the desk, 130cm tall and covered with cloth, giving the impression it was rectangular in shape. “The story concerns the object under that cloth, and the man who made it. His name was Coin, and by all accounts he was an excellent craftsman. Able to make intricate mechanical devices for their aesthetic appeal and equally crafted wood coverings for them.”

Lake stepped onto the desk and stood next to the covered object. “It was one year after the occupation started, and he was visited by ASP agents. In under an hour he was gone, along with his set of tools, but not before having a final word with his apprentice, Packer. This was in the presence of the agents, so all that Coin could say was that he was being commissioned for a project, a project worthy of ‘an old man.’ Packer never saw Coin after that.” Lake walked behind the object; his eyes still visible and focused on Konset. “Despondent, Packer removed the remaining items in Coin’s workshop weeks later and came across a photo of him next to a distinguished man, playing golf. Inscribed on the back were the words ‘Me being treated to golf after giving a retirement gift worthy of the old man.’ It was then that Packer remembered a conversion he had with Coin some time before, talking about his studies in university and his favorite professor, one that had the nickname Old Man. After some investigation Packer found out who that professor was and paid him a visit. After telling him about Coin’s being taken away by ASP, Packer asked out of curiosity if he got a gift from Coin in the past. He did and showed it to him.”

With a brisk tug Lake removed the cloth covering the object, revealing it to be an ornate clock. The wooden exterior had an exquisite sheen to complement the curves and embellishments planed and sanded by hand. On the face of the clock, at the top, was a calendar composed of rotating display cogs and denoted in Comensal numbers and writing. At the bottom was another set of cogs, set to display Comensal time measurements. Taking up the center was a representation of a planetary system with each planet, small for terrestrial and large for gas giants, having their own circular track and moving at exaggerated speed. “A fine piece of work, powered by a battery that can last for decades,” Lake commented. “Packer was devastated. The Axis could just have easily commissioned Coin to make a clock, even paying for it, but no. They took him away, depriving the world of his advanced skill in making beauty. Paying his condolence, the professor passed a secret that Coin shared with him. That secret stayed in Packer’s mind. And it stayed… and it stayed.”

“Then three years after Coin’s disappearance, Packer got a measure of closure. In one of the rare announcements made from the Administrative Complex, the Governor, the first Governor, addressed the Eleto population from this very office, on the day the Complex was completed. While the Governor blathered on about having the Eleto increase industrial output, on the implied threat of food rationing, Packer saw this clock in the background. There,” Lake pointed with this left back hand at an empty shelf on the wall behind him, “it was there the clock sat from then up to now. He knew Coin’s work on sight. Packer reasoned that Coin was taken to create this clock in a dungeon workshop, probably created a few more, perhaps even one for your First Leader, before being killed.” Lake’s eyes swept the room, going from west to east. “On that day Packer couldn’t work anymore. All he wanted was to get to this piece of art and take it away from filthy Comensal hands. He joined the resistance and used the skills that Coin taught him to create diabolical mechanical-fused bombs against ASP and even Axis Army units. And now, he will have the honor of disclosing the secret to you, Mr. Konset. Mr. Packer, if you will?”

An Eleto from the right side of the desk stood up and joined Lake next to the clock. Only then did Konset notice this Eleto was missing three of his four eyestalks, the stumps covered in bandages. Eleto do have regenerative capability, and in two months new stalks will be fully formed. Glaring at Konset for a moment with his one eye, the Eleto called Packer focused on the clock. He rapidly pressed the central symbol representing the Comensal sun five times and then rolled the calendar cogs in a purposeful manner. Another press of the central symbol had an audible pop accompanying it. A wooden flower embellishment swung down, revealing a cavity. Lake reached in and drew out a rectangular object, silver in color and with a pair of telltale lights on one end.

“Every example of this style of clock made by Coin has this feature,” Lake explained. “A secret compartment protected by a combination lock. But, like every master craftsman, Coin had his own combination installed just in case the client forgets theirs. He would’ve passed that knowledge to Packer, but thankfully Coin told his professor. Despite being knowledgeable, professors can be scatter-brained from time to time, and thus he passed Coin’s secret combination to him. In this case, it was Coin’s graduation date from university and quickly deduced that he had translated the date into the Comensal dating convention.”

The look on Konset’s face conveyed the look of impatient expectation. Lake savored that look for a moment. “You Comensal have been very exhaustive in destroying databanks in the last five months. Every primary, secondary, and tertiary databank has been physically destroyed in acid. Even your personal notes have been shredded and burned. Then there’s this.” He held the silver object up to the light. “Every governor since the first one had their own private database containing the personnel records of every Comensal, civilian and military, that has been posted or lived on Eletoshani Prime. They updated it twice a year and used the data when considering promotions, transfers, and rewards.”

Konset turned his head, looking at Brent instead of the disconcerting face of the Eleto named Smiler. “I’m sure you’re going to regale everyone of my record. Go on. I will appreciate some backhanded praise.”

“Oh, I’m so terribly pleased to hear that, Mr. Konset. Let’s get to it, then.” Lake picked up a tablet he had on top of the clock. With two eyes looking at the screen Lake had his other pair of eyes on Konset. “Let’s see. You first served in the Eleto War, over forty-five years ago. At the end of that you were placed in the reserves, pursuing a career as a university teacher in the field of applied physics. Then you got reactivated for the Nu’Chut AI War, serving on an SDB technological evaluation team, picking apart captured technology. After that you retired from service and returned to university. When it came to the current conflict with the Commonwealth, you volunteered to be reinstated and was accepted, being sent directly here. All commendable work, yet you were missing something. Something that every Comensal civilian has achieved while on Eletoshani.”

Konset’s inadvertently raised inquisitive eyebrow gave away that he had no idea what Lake was talking about, and so he was duly informed. “In the forty-five years of occupation, not counting those that died in the 10-year labor camps, a little over 550,000 Eleto have been abducted and killed. Abducted for manufactured infractions of occupation law, suspected involved with the resistance, or just at random.” Lake’s eyes looked harsher. “We had copies made of the governor’s database and went through it for three days just to be sure of what we found. Some were shipped off-planet, to Comensal Prime to be stuffed and put on display in one of your museums. A few others were sent to a research complex in a system called Virus House, where your former boss Joncan was reassigned to. As for the rest…” Lake made an Eleto’s equivalent of a shrug, using all four arms. “It was clearly an unspoken rite of passage for every Comensal civilian to kill an Eleto while on this planet. And it wasn’t just adults that did it. Even children as young as eight were made to kill an Eleto. It’s all marked on every civilian record. We even found out that a similar rite of passage is done on the Lauset homeworld, where you’re running out of that race’s number to kill. Was it the plan to use my race to pick up the slack, having us killed one-by-one to affirm your race’s need for validation?”

Konset’s face offered nothing, so Lake pressed on. “This is where you come in, Mr. Konset. You lead the development team for the spinal force beam, and the prototype was installed on the light cruiser Populous. A worn-out freighter was automated and used as a target. It could’ve stopped with that, but you wanted live bodies in that ship to measure the effects of the weapon’s impact would have on their physiology. A totally unnecessary addition, and the 200 Eleto on board didn’t have pressure suits to give even a pretense of survival. You went to the ASP, requested 200 Eleto, no questions asked on who to select. So, the ASP literally picked people off the street, slapped on ridiculous charges, including one for causing an ASP agent being slightly delayed because he had to take an alternate route due to a car accident scene no being cleared fast enough.” Lake motioned to an Eleto to his left. “She lost her daughter due to that asinine charge. Two hundred families became less complete, but for you, for you… you finally got your kill against an abomination, albeit indirectly.”

“Is this the point where you kill me?” Konset asserted.

Lake now looked at the Comensal with all four eyes. “Do not skip to the last page of the novel. It ruins the experience. What we found on the datacore is enough to have all remaining Comensal on this planet killed. Your own race’s unrepentance, intransigence, and continuous exercise of genocide, either quick or slow, can only have one outcome on this planet. The Assembly has made their decision and made it law just four hours ago. I could have killed you in your sleep, on the walk to this office, or even right now. I killed my own share of Comensal over the years, and one more wouldn’t have been a bother, but why should I have all the fun?”

Konset felt a brief, sharp sting at the side of his neck. He felt and then removed a small dart, fired by Mr. Smiler. “Poison me, will you? You want your abomination friends watch me flop on the floor in death spasms?”

“It’s not poison, Mr. Konset, it’s a drug. There’s a difference.” Lake took a step forward on the desktop, getting closer to the Comensal. “It will wear off in an hour, but what will happen next won’t need an hour. Over the years we captured several ASP agents and tested various kinds of truth drugs on them. One of them, as it turned out, after a little tweaking, enhances the sensation of pain and hyperactivates the fear centers of Comensal brains.” Lake took another step forward, and Konset, to his chagrin, felt himself beginning to tremble. “One symptom of the drug is the subject’s proclivity to scream, and scream loudly, due to innate fears and physical pain.” Lake was now at the edge of the desktop and could see Konset sweat from pours between the boney plates that made up his face. “We had to prematurely kill one ASP subject because his screams were so loud it threatened to reveal the location of the testing site. I regret that I will never know if your screams will attract the attention of the Providence you Comensal acknowledge instead of actual gods. My spleen venting is over.”

Lake jumped down from the desktop, startling Konset to the extent that he audibly gasped. Placing the now-deactivated audio receiver on the desk, Lake motioned the eight attendees, Mr. Brent and Mr. Smiler to gather around, and spoke in Eleto. “The ankles, back of the knees, and the armpits are now particularly sensitive,” Lake said as he pointed to the mentioned parts. “I suggest you start with those points, using the rods that Mr. Brent will provide presently. The drug has made him weak and unable to remain standing up. We have been recording, and we need at least five minutes of good, full-throated screams.”

Though not able to translate Eleto there was no mistake in Konset’s fear-filled mind what was going to happen now. He was visibly shaking as Lake pointed at him again. “Avoid the neck, head, and jaw until Mr. Smiler tells you otherwise. The rest of the body,” Lake made a look that a professor would give when grading a sub-par research paper, “is yours.”

Lake left the office, appreciating that his fellows waited until he closed the doors behind him before commencing. At the elevator, he heard a spectacular scream through those office doors, and one more before the elevator doors closed completely. There was still so much left to do.

*******

30,107 Comensal civilians still lived on Eletoshani Prime. All Axis Army, ASP, and Naval personnel were dead as of the sixth month since liberation. The civilians were in bunkers under their homes in the colonial enclave, 7,815 to be exact. They needed those bunkers, as trying to survive in the wilderness of a planet still inhabited by billions of hostile native inhabitants was not an option. The bunkers serve to keep the Eleto out for one, and to protect them from fallout caused by a nuclear bombardment. No doubt the latter was preferred by the Comensal, wanting the abominations to die from radiation poisoning. They were still confident that the Axis fleet would return before the three year’s worth of rations in each bunker would run out. With claustrophobia practically unknown to their race, and a strict sense of discipline, the civilians patiently waited.

On the other hand, the Eletoshani have considered their patience ended after forty-five years of occupation. The one benefit of capturing the governor’s office intact was that the emergency broadcast circuit, which connected to all bunkers in the enclave, was still active and had the capacity to show which bunkers were occupied by living Comensal. The code was broken, and an announcer spoke over all the speakers in the 7,815 bunkers. The accompanying video showed that it was an Eleto, his voice translated into that of the dead governor. He was a plumber of all things, becoming one after spending ten hellish years in a forced labor camp for Army and Navy personnel, but he spoke with the reserve of a lecturer reciting historical passages. He first advised the Comensal civilians of the fate that befell their defenders, and of the cost of the liberation. Five thousand Eleto soldiers dead, the same number wounded, and 41,000 Eleto civilians killed. The Axis Army units in the field had abandoned their cruise missile attacks on broadcast sites early on and instead went with random targeting of the densely populated portions of Eleto cities within range. Not airports, government buildings, power plants or even factories. Things that would’ve hampered their resurgence. No, said the announcer, the only reason those missiles went into densely packed urban areas was because they could, and done out of impotent spite.

The announcer then spoke about the captured personnel files, and how every Comensal civilian over the age of 8 had killed an Eleto, and the circumstances behind those deaths. Even those that didn’t kill, stated the announcer, his voice becoming graver, it was decided by the government and fully backed by the Eleto populace that the Comensal be condemned to death. With the Comensal’s stated racial goal of genocide against all other sentient life, as demonstrated in their own history, it was unconscionable to leave such a threat festering on the planet. The announcer ended his talk, telling them to invoke their Providence and die in their bunkers with whatever passes for dignity in the time left.

The circuit went dead for a moment and then was filled with the recorded screams of the dead Prime Command Konset. It went on and on for hours, days, then weeks, the only relief coming when the speakers were turned off. When some Comensal became brave enough to turn their speakers back on they heard Konset’s screams replaced with combat recordings of Axis soldiers wailing in agony as they burned to death. It was all… unsettling. It was later found that in some bunkers the speakers inside were smashed, splattered with blood showing they were wrecked by bare hands. That was only the beginning of the torment.

Of the 7,815 bunkers 99% had their hatches welded shut from the outside and their access tunnels filled in with plasticrete. The inhabitants did have the ability to create an emergency exit using explosives at a particular spot in the bunker’s roof. The Eleto knew this, too. Over the course of three years heat lances pokes holes through those spots in selected bunkers, and what followed was broadcasted on the emergency broadcast circuit. Some bunkers were filled with water, others choked with black smoke, flame cloud dispensers, and foaming agents that filled the bunker space with a resulting rock-hard resilience that entrapped Comensal like bugs in amber.

Those Comensal that watched this cavalcade of death, listening to Eleto commentators explaining the processes involved like it was a sporting event… well, it got to them. Unable to use the circuit to contact other bunkers to coordinate, each Comensal family that decided to go down in blaze of glory did so alone. What waited for them were mines placed around their emergency exit point and a squad of Eleto to finish what the mines started. It went on that way into and past the third year. Only towards the end of the fourth year did the final life signs end. Most of the remaining bunkers attempted their breakouts, having run out of food, and there was even proof of cannibalism in those bunkers that didn’t get their hatches welded shut and access tunnels blocked. Just 15 of those bunkers remained intact, becoming a focus of study and documentation by academics and xeno sociologists of not only the Eleto but of other races as well. Some had evidence of violence, mutual suicides, and stoic submission to starvation.

The Comensal on Evergreen didn’t go through what happened in the Eleto colonial enclave. They died in combat in the wilderness of that world. If given the choice, the enclave Comensal wouldn’t hesitate to come to their end in a cold, dark, wet field of bladegrass than in a bunker that increasing filled with resentment, pent-up rage, and pride that rapidly turned into bile. As for the Eleto they removed the governor’s office from the Administrative Complex, setting it up in a new museum and allowed the buildings and infrastructure of the enclave to deteriorate. That ground was now too thick with the ghosts of the damned, and the Eleto weren’t going to present themselves as a target of torment for those ghosts. They earned their eternal torment, and no one else had to be there to acknowledge it.

Shock! But always happy to see more starfire!

The Combined Fleet held station on the far side of Gymnasium Prime’s second moon. Repair ships tended to damaged units that could be repaired relatively quickly, while those requiring more attention were sent to the Abyssal-017 starless nexus where the larger and more valuable mobile shipyards awaited them. One of those ships was Admiral Jki’s own Coral Sea, requiring two months of work. She transferred her flag to the Oknib, a capital missile dreadnaught. While listening to her staff’s various after-action reports and the latest intelligence summary Jki let a part of mind play out the events leading to the capture of the system.

In the captured records Gymansium was regarded by the Axis as a heavily populated and developed system. The defenses were taken to be strong, especially with time given to strengthen them. Jki elected to send in a probe of 120 Whale armed pinnaces equipped with scanner packs and six warp point probe ships, of which four had the same hull used by battle carriers and thus had excellent turning ability. Of the Whales only 40 came back and only two of the probe ships, both of which were based on dreadnaught hulls. The defenses were indeed formidable, comprising of 9 asteroid forts (3 large and 6 comparatively smaller ones), 21 type-5 bases, 9 type-3 bases, and 6 type-2 bases. The combat area patrol comprised 21 squadrons of F1 Hatchet fighters and 12 escort shuttles. Automated weapon buoys numbered 600 and keeping them company in the immediate vicinity of the warp point were 1800 mine patterns. Jki had no doubt that a very thin shell of mines extended all the way out in a radius of six light-seconds from the warp point, inflicting attritional losses to any armed pinnace group that wanted to take on the missile and fighter bases.

A conventional assault was out of the question, and not for the last time Jki wished the new warp-capable missile pod technology had its bugs ironed out and made available for use. Instead, it was down to a mass transit attack, complete with hundreds of armed pinnaces to tackle the inner ring of bases, and hundreds of small ships that will force the defenders to expend their weapons on them as well as maximize dispersion of their weapon buoys. As it went, the first wave comprising 500 Whale armed pinnaces, 120 small ships ranging from explorers to frigates, and 20 carriers made its entry. Subsequent waves were made in the normal manner, but each had two minesweepers with datalink jammers, 100 more Whales and a handful of additional small ships. Jki arrived in the fifth wave, finding the warp point still a maelstrom of fighters, pinnaces and ships. The close in bases and forts were gone or badly damaged, being set upon by plasma guns from the surviving small ships and the onboard weapons of the newcomers. There were just three capital missile bases six light-second out, keeping the six fighter and three defense bases company. It was the minesweepers that were being targeted now in a forlorn hope of knocking them out and giving the surviving Hatchet fighters a chance to regain datalink cohesion.

The final set of assault carriers arrived in the sixth wave, none losing passive defenses as there were enough small ships to dilute buoy fire. A group of pinnaces broke off from the warp point to accompany the fresh fighters as they went for the capital missile bases. Showing their discipline, the Axis Hatchet fighters stayed on the warp point. Those with guns engaged their Shark opposites while laser-armed Hatchets went after ships, namely those equipped with jammers. The last minesweeper, along with the remaining close-in bases, was destroyed just as the missile bases were engaged by Whales and Sharks. With a mix of spite and defiance the trio of bases fired their last combined salvo at the Jki’s flagship. The lasing warheads did their damage, but it was the firing of the last buoys that caused heavy damage. The battleship was able to transit out, though still taking spinal force beam pot-shots from the fighter and defense bases.

After transferring to the Oknib, Jki reentered the Gymnasium system and took stock. Of the 1000 Whale armed pinnaces committed only 114 remained, and the fighter loses from the assault carriers was over 80%. The close-in bases and asteroid forts all had datalink jammers, a major factor in the fighter losses. There were no defending Axis ships for some reason, but that mystery had to wait as the Combined Fleet formed up and moved in-system to Gymnasium Prime, sending task elements to investigate the system’s planets past the asteroid belt.

There were Axis ships after all; a carrier task group to be precise. It had positioned itself two light-minutes past the asteroid belt on the direct route to Gymnasium Prime. It launched a full strike against the Combined Fleet, with recon pinnaces reporting back that numerous small craft contacts had emerged from the asteroid belt and headed for the Axis carriers. This proved that the belt was lousy with fighter bases, just like the Bedrock system, and had six distinct chains of small bases, radiating out from the solar orbit of Gymnasium Prime, to feed fresh fighters for massed attacks. Jki half-expected that the carriers were the same ones that escaped Bedrock, and when confirmation that the drive field signatures were the same, she wondered if the same commander was in charge, whoever it was.

At this point, instead of heading directly for Gymnasium Prime, Jki took her fleet at an angle into the asteroid belt. Going anti-spinward in the belt, the fleet, now moving at maximum speed for a dreadnaught, forced the Axis carrier-launched strike to pursue while those asteroid fighter bases ahead had to wait to consolidate fresh arrivals from the bases behind them. The net result was that the ensuing double strikes didn’t have the time for a fully coordinated effort. Jki was thankful that the Hazen contingent had 216 Lancer interceptors, forming the close-in defense within the fleet’s jamming radius. Unable to use fighters, the Hazen were inspired by the Hamthen’s use of interceptors earlier in the war and spent a sizeable percentage of their naval budget to develop and deploy their own version. An updated interceptor had been perfected and wouldn’t reach the fleet the months but the ones in use now proved their worth.

In a relentless grind the Combined Fleet continued around the asteroid belt, destroying bases in passing and Hatchet fighters by the gross. Many were still of the F0 variety with a sprinkling of F1s, which served as escorts. The Axis carrier task group continued to pursue, but it came to a point where, even with life support packs, the F0 Hatchets couldn’t reach the carriers unless they turned around to pick them up. The Axis commander settled on moving, at full speed, to a point ahead of the Combined Fleet to receive fresh squadrons. With battlecruiser-hulled freighters filled with antifighter missiles Jki elected to have her ships resupplied on the move. Three more major waves of Hatchets were dispatched before the Axis carriers departed, heading for one of the other two warp points in the system, but not before receiving fighters, most likely F1s, into their hanger bays.

Fighter and interceptor losses for the Combined Fleet were on the order of 33%. A handful of destroyers were lost or so crippled they were scuttled. Other ships only sustained light damage to their armor. Once the ring of asteroid bases was dispatched Jki held the fleet and waited for carriers from the support group to come forward to dispense their flightgroups. The run towards Gymnasium Prime was uneventful as the Axis had exhausted their stock of disposable fighters, so there were no further inbound fighter strikes. As for the space station over the planet it still had fighters, 324 strong, backed by over 100 escort shuttles. Only three type-4 bases kept the station company. Jki had already decided beforehand on a course of action. With capital missile armed units, including the new Yoshibo carriers, moving forward at a crawl with maximum ECM the rest of the Combined Fleet charged the orbital defenses with Sharks and Lancers ready to engage the Hatchets and Stilettos.

It took three minutes for the fleet to come within effective beam weapon range, 2.5 light seconds. The huge station had a mass of 24 battleships, too big for shields, but had ample armor. The charging ships focused on the station and the horde of fighters and shuttles while the capital missile units set upon denuding the BS4s of their armor, using enhanced lasing warheads on their SBMs. Not at all tempted to destroy the distant missile-firing carriers, the Comensal crews went after the dreadnaughts with the intent on complete kills.

A maelstrom of beams, missiles and small craft, punctuated by nuclear and antimatter fireballs, served as a backdrop as three dreadnaughts were crushed as the fleet entered the designed range. At that point Tuphon and Terpla’n ships equipped with needle beams attacked the station, sniping overload dampeners. Axis fire then shifted to those ships, but not before the dampeners were greatly reduced in number. This allowed those allied ships equipped with energy beams to cut loose, destroying the station’s internal systems with massive electrical discharges. Smaller ships were reassigned to cripple the BS4s. Thanks to jammers the Axis Hatchets were cut down in job lots while the Hazen Lancers engaged the Stilettos with abandon.

Either through oversight or deliberate action an antimatter warhead on the station was destroyed, and in turn the station was utterly obliterated as other antimatter warheads were set off. Jki ordered the BS4s to be rendered weaponless by energy and needle beam fire. Just as boarding shuttles were ready a flight of shuttles and cutters took off from the planet’s spaceport. The BS4s were rammed by the craft, finishing them off to prevent the allies from capturing them. In reply the spaceport was taken out by kinetic strikes. Troopships were called from the support group, and not for the last time Jki was greeted on the comms by the Comensal governor, his smile as false as his promise of cooperation. In a few months the inhabitants will start a massive resistance movement, just like on all the other occupied Axis worlds.

Jki acknowledged the reports, and after a brace of questions she dismissed her staff with herself heading back to her quarters. Halfway there she changed her mind. With her six feet now feeling inexplicably tired she went to the Oknib’s sickbay. There she found the ship’s doctor, a well-seasoned civilian practitioner that volunteered for naval service. Two discerning eyes focused on the admiral. “Good evening, Admiral,” the doctor said with formality. “I’m Doctor Pyco. To what do I owe this visit? High ranking officers rarely visit sickbay outside of checking on wounded spacers.”

“I make it a point to visit every department of my flagship, Doctor. This happens to be the first one on the list,” Jki replied. “As the Oknib received its refit it stands to reason the sickbay was updated as well. Care to give a tour?”

Pyco’s inner eyelids blinked. Captains and admirals did indeed avoid sickbay like the plague unless directly ordered by the ship’s doctor for mandatory physicals. He shifted on his six legs as he replied. “Very good, Admiral. You’ll find the facilities here are on the same level as any dirt-side hospital. If you will…”

It took fifteen minutes, as Jki asked questions that were tempered by knowledge that could only be gained by being a recipient of medical attention. Pyco did receive Jki’s medical file from the Coral Sea’s CMO, and he was beginning to suspect that there was more to Jki’s visit than just idle curiosity. About to show his office, Pyco was sidelined by Jki at an examination station. “This looks the same as those on the Coral Sea,” Jki commented, pointing at a table contoured for Terpla’n physiology. “Mind if I try it out?”

“Go ahead. You won’t find anything better outside of a five-star hotel.”

Jki settled in, the table automatically adjusting to accommodate to prevent her from falling off. “Feels good, doc. If I was here for a checkup, would you start with the usual checklist?”

“Depends. Anything that deserves some attention?” Pyco figured that Jki was requesting help in a roundabout way to save face.

“Been having some stomach aches, haven’t told the previous doc.”

Pyco’s inner eyelids slowly blinked. “I see. Have you been taking anything to alleviating those aches?”

“Engine Room Rot-Gut,” Jki replied in a casual manner.

The doctor’s outer eyelids closed slightly. Having tried the mentioned concoction, the only appreciable medicinal effect was to dull pain. “I guess that proves the higher the rank, the more inclined people are to self-medicate. If you’re willing, Admiral, I like to perform some tests and use some of that brand-new fancy gear I have at my disposal.”

“That will be appreciated, Dr. Pyco.”

********

All in all, Prime Lieutenant Camden was happy with his current assignment, though he considered it to be a sideways promotion. Previously he commanded a division of corvettes for a year, guarding convoys to and from Gymnasium via Eleto. Expecting assignment as an executive officer of a cruiser or allocated to a planet-side posting Camden instead, rather abruptly due to circumstances, was given the command of a destroyer division.

Camden’s ship, the Sprinter-class destroyer Thunderfoot, and its two division mates were constructed at the Evergreen shipyards in the Eleto system. Assigned to Star Force 2, Third Advance Fleet, the ships of the division had only just cleared the slipways when Gymnasium was conquered by the abom Terpla’ns and their equally wretched allies. Normally it would take a month of work-up to bring the ships up to specs, but the AFC only gave Camden’s division a week before heading out to the Jade system, two transits out from Eleto to rendezvous with other reinforcements heading for Admiral Hovwen. In that week everything that needed to work on the destroyer worked. Shields, ECM, weapons and point defense along with life support, computer coordination, and engines. As for everything else…

The destroyer division was in the Porch system, halfway between the Eleto and Jade warp points respectively. On the bridge of the Thunderfoot Camden went through a list of items that were deemed ‘nonessential for combat’ by the Evergreen Station quartermaster in the rush to get the division to its rendezvous. The recreation compartment had no equipment, not even floormats for the exercise section. Likewise, the mess halls had only base rations because the coolers went unstocked, so no servings of preserved fruit. Even the bedding would’ve been absent had it not been for the Recreation & Morale officer, as well as the ship’s quartermaster, having gone to a storage hold on Evergreen Station to ‘acquire’ bedding assigned to a freighter due to be launched in two months. Likewise, the Chief Engineer and some ratings ‘acquired’ a soda machine, complete with two months of flavor concentrate packets, along with a dart board that happened to be next to it. Camden asked no questions, instead thanking the personnel involved for providing for the welfare of the crew.

The crews of the three ships were kept busy with drills, inspections, and instruction. Camden was thankful for getting some of his senior officers and noncoms from his corvette command to the Thunderfoot. Manned by painfully green spacers, Camden hoped to ‘remove the burs’ by the time the ships rendezvoused with Hovwen. To that end he worked on current daily schedule…

“Drive field detection!” roared the sensor rating, only three months past his qualifications. “Prime, I have six drive field contacts seven light-seconds ahead of us. Forwarding to your main plot.”

“Signals, inform the division to go to full alert,” Camden said as he focused on his plot. He scowled as he registered the information. From the drive field strengths there were three battlecruisers and three destroyers, all identified as belonging to the aboms. They had to have been here for some time, observing shipping going to and from the Eleto system to position their ships for an intercept. Porch only had a single chain of older style navigation and com buoys between the two warp points. Only scanner buoys were placed at the warp points. Most importantly there had to be a closed warp point in Porch. Immediately he had his signals officer start sending data via the com buoy chain back to the Eleto and Jade warp points. He held back on sending courier drones until the last possible moment.

There was no point in running. Even if Camden turned his ships around there was no guarantee that all their engines would achieve motive status in time. Besides, the ships had no defensive missiles on their external racks and interception of missiles coming from the rear arc would be degraded. With a grim steadfastness that one would find in a patriotic video Camden gave his orders and watched the plot as the formations closed.

One minute later at 2.5 light-second range the three destroyers had succeeded in bringing all their systems online. Still painfully green, only one destroyer achieved a hit on the designated abom battlecruiser. In reply the aboms, in three datalink groups comprised of one BC and DD each, fired on each of the Sprinters. All three ships lost shields from a mix of capital force beams and needles beams. Then came the anti-drive missiles. Receiving the worst of it and having lost some engine rooms already from general needle beam damage, the Thunderfoot was rendered immobilized. The other two destroyers were down to half speed.

The abom ships dropped to half speed, engaging erratic maneuvering as Thunderfoot’s divisionmates did they best they could to match. Again, the Axis crews’ painful inexperience played against them as a BC and DD used their tactical scanner data to locate and then sniped the hetlasers of all three Sprinters, followed by all the remaining engine rooms and point defense, equally paired away by the other four abom ships. With main power automatically adjusted to safe mode after the loss of engine rooms there was only one outcome in Camden’s mind. “Signals,” the prime lieutenant said, “inform the crew and the other ships that we’re going to be boarded presently.” As if on cue he saw on the main plot the abom ships launching shuttles and cutters, no doubt filled with marines. “Have all engineering departments arm the scuttling charges with minimum timer settings.”

“Acknowledged, Prime,” said the young rating. Axis ships smaller than light cruisers only had officers for half the bridge stations.

“Abom tractor beams have locked onto our ships, Prime,” said the weapons officer. “The shuttles and cutters will be on our hulls in one minute.”

“Acknowledged.” Camden scowled. There was no doubt the aboms will eventually take the ships, but if the charges go off then they’ll be rendered unsalvageable. Any attempt to tow them with tractor beams or even actual physical cables will fail. That only left…

“Prime,” said the Signals rating, “I’ve been unable to contact the computer operations compartment. That compartment had been pierced by a needle beam that took out engine room seven.”

They’re after the databanks, Camden thought. In this situation the ultimate responsibility in destroying the databanks is on me. Quickly, Camden passed orders to his executive officer in the auxiliary control room, putting him in charge of the ship’s internal defense. When the XO asked if he needed some marines as escort Camden declined, instead taking the weapons officer and sensor rating with him. Since there was no time to don the standard pressure suit Camden and the others had to use their issued shipsuits, which could act as pressure suits for a limited time. Each shipsuit had a pullover clear hood that could be secured to the neck collar and a pair of gloves to each wrist lock. For an air supply there was in each major compartment a service locker with thermos-sized oxygen packs that had a 90-minute supply and were secured to the chest. With laser pistols in hand the trio made for the computer operations compartment.

On the way Camden heard the announcement via his earpiece that abom small craft had latched on to the hull, quickly followed by subtle vibrations caused by breaching charges. Upon arrival Camden found out why there was no response from the duty shift. The needle beam had destroyed half of the work station desk in passing and killed the two techs with a combination of electrical discharge and intense heat. Unable to enter the data purge code that left the backup plan. Camden had the weapons officer and sensor rating cover the entrance as he opened a locker and extracted the gear inside. Said gear was a thermal rod with an accompanying protective heat-resistant glove and sleeve.

Using the thermal rod on the physical databanks will render them utterly useless. No amount of electronic forensics could extract any data from what would amount to a pile of molten glass and circuits. Opening the databank access panel, Camden was about to activate the rod when he felt vibrations from the deck. He turned to find a suited fist impacting his face, his world going dark.

A few minutes later Camden regained consciousness, finding himself on the deck with his legs bound and arms tied behind his back. He saw his two men by the compartment entrance, equally incapacitated and face down. Then he saw the suited aboms, four of them, wearing combat vac suits with helmets that had opaque visors. Bipeds, at least, and only two arms so that ruled out Hokum…

One of the aboms noticed Camden and knelt beside him, placing an oval-shaped disc to the side of his clear hood. It was a ‘skin-talk’ speaker, and through it he heard a computer-generated voice. “Good morning,” said the voice with a hint of electronic modulation and inflection, indicating cheerfulness, something that Camden didn’t find amusing. “Sorry for having to punch you, but I was concerned my stun round would’ve missed you and gone into that open panel. It wouldn’t do having the databanks scrambled by a stunner energy. Oh, rude of me. You deserve to see who’s talking to you.” The abom’s visor went clear, revealing an avian-featured face belonging to a Tuphonese. The despicable abom looked like he was talking, but a moment passed before he heard the resulting words. “That little glow rod of yours would’ve made this boarding a complete waste of time had you just one more minute. Good thing you guys don’t change the layout of your ships in a major way.”

“Sir,” said another abom, his comm channel audio being picked up by the first abom’s translation software in his suit no doubt, “I’m afraid this control desk has seen better days. The port we needed got deep-sixed by that needle beam hit.”

“We have to be overlooking something,” the first one replied, obviously not caring that Camden was overhearing the conversation. “We studied the schematics from previous captured ships and even reports from our Hokum allies.” Hearing that made Camden cringe. If cringing made a noise, then Camden’s could’ve been heard.

“Wait, Sir, there’s one place I want to check again.” The second abom looked under that portion of the work desk that wasn’t ruined by the needle beam. After a pregnant moment came a sound that the translation program rendered as a pleasant utterance. That abom stood up, and on an extended finger was a piece of… tape?

“This is manufacture’s tape, Sir. It was covering the auxiliary port, and I didn’t see on the first inspection.”

Manufacture’s tape? Camden thought. That is removed after a full… oh Providence!

The first abom made a clicking noise that was rendered into a sound that indicated affirmation. “If that’s anything like in our navy, that tape is removed after a full inspection and approval by a senior officer.”

In the rush to get this ship into action, too many corners had to be cut! If those damn aboms know this much about our ships…

“Could be this ship was rushed into service without a complete shakedown cruise, Sir? If they didn’t bother to check this aux port and sign off on it, then we have a better chance than trying to connect to the databanks directly, especially since we don’t have the appropriate Axis minicomp.”

The first abom looked at Camden. “I found your minicomp on you, but without your access code I can’t use it. Are you willing to help us out?” The inflection of whimsy in the translated voice made Camden seethe to the point that his teeth grated. The abom Tuphonese noticed. “Oh, thought not. Okay, Sergeant, use the black box.”

“Yes, Sir.” The sergeant pulled what appeared to be a tablet from a pouch on his thigh. He pulled a fine, thin cable from it and attached it to the aux port. After a few moments a cheer was heard. “Payday, Sir. There was no challenge from the operating system. Not even a password. Downloading and transmitting of the database commencing. We’re going to make out like it’s CEO annual bonus day.”

“Well done, Sergeant. Guess that proves this ship and its crew was rushed into service before all the basics were covered.” For the life of him Camden swore the avian abom was smiling at him, despite having a beak. “Don’t worry, Comensal. That’s how the market rolls. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Damn it all! I just remembered. It was on my list. It was on my list! Today I was going to go through the first deployment checklist for Computer Operations. That damn piece of tape would’ve been removed by me no less and a password installed! Just one Providence-damned day!

“Sir,” said the sergeant, “I think we better get our prisoners on the shuttle before their air runs out.”

“So true, sergeant. This one especially. He has the rank tabs of a Prime Lieutenant. Very well could be the commander of this ship. Oh, silly me. I meant to use the security filter in our communications. Well,” the translated voice did carry a tone of observation instead of flippancy, though Camden was in no mood to listen, “it was an unintentional oversight, very much like what happened to you, Comensal. Happens to all of us.”

Camden didn’t resist as he was picked up by abom marines minutes later and hauled away like a plank of lumber. He didn’t yell or curse or squirm for he was paralyzed with rage.

********

Of the three Axis destroyers captured, the databanks of two of them were successfully retrieved. As for the ships themselves only on the Thunderfoot retained structurally integrity as the engineers were killed before they could prime the explosive charges The charges on the other two destroyers did go off, and being unable to be towed or considered worthwhile to repair they were obliterated by nuclear warheads. The Thunderfoot itself was tractored to a holding location where enough internal systems were restored and adapted so that it could transit to Inna and be studied by a team of Inna engineers under the supervision of Tzelen consultants.

Crajen Admiral Coopersmith, commanding the 3rd Field Fleet, was thankful that the operation provided a bonanza of data. The Eletoshani warp point was lightly guarded with only six large and one small base, backed up by scandalously thin minefields and weapon buoy parks. Only six warships and one auxiliary formed the mobile force. As for the orbital defenses over Evergreen, the second habitable planet in the Eleto system, were markedly stronger than those over Eleto itself, mainly due to the number of Comensal inhabitants. Some 70,000 Comensal were on Eleto, with 40,000 being civilians in a single city near the spaceport.

Defenses over Eleto were just three missile bases and a small space station, backed up by a fighter wing based at the spaceport. This was a major concern for Coopersmith. Even though the Axis considered the Eleto a major supplier of materials if the commanders in charge decided to nuke the population, even at the loss of their own civilians, then there was nothing Coppersmith could do about it. The captured data did provide a map of warp links, including one that lead up to Gymnasium. Finding and exploiting a fresh breach into Axis space was the reason behind the capture operation. Rescuing an occupied population would be a bonus. Reading the Axis’ own records regarding the Eleto, the Admiral sensed the wily aliens had plans to flummox their Axis overlords when the chance of liberation presented itself.

Coopersmith, in the CIC of his flagship, was playing host to Dr. Dunn, the Tzelan commanding the survey squadron, and Dr. Kunus, the Inna scientist leading the contingent of his fellow Inna. They were regarding the warp point icon on the main plot. “One hour to the assault,” said the Crajen. “In this brief period of time they couldn’t increase their passive defenses in any meaningful way.”

“Speaking of defenses,” said Kunus, “I take it that my government was reassured on the security of the Inna warp point?”

“They only needed to hear it from me, Doctor. Twenty-four large bases, with twelve more in two months, and backed up by passive defenses and a reinforced task group. Once Eleto is secured we can drive deeper into pre-war Axis space, furthering Inna security.”

Dr. Dunn nodded acknowledgement. “It will be interesting to find out what the Eleto know about us. I’ve read the captured Axis reports, damning and cursing the Eleto and their computer software sabotage."

Coopersmith clicked his crusher claws while snapping the fingers of both hands. This time Kunus didn’t flinch, now having become much more accustomed to Crajen mannerisms. “I’d say they know a good deal, Dr. Dunn. Knowing that were a multi-racial organization fighting the Axis will give us common ground when we establish contact.”

The Chantry of Light Month 85

Starbridge Station, Lathandras Orbit, Thedas System

Templar Captain Allistar Ti'Lir found himself staring at the bay holding the Enchanter class heavy battlerider as the ship neared completion.  No longer an exposed structure the ships sleek lines were complete, all work was now on the interior and would be completed by the end of the month.  The two Fearless and single Peacekeeper that would be its squadron were also nearing completion and would be commissioned with the first Enchanter.  The planning was coming together, two further Dawnbringers were under construction -- there would be two more constructed but they would be directly sent to the reserve.  A total of 36 Seekers would have been upgraded by the end of this month, and Survey Flotilla 1 should be now operating at full capacity.  The last four Spectre's were undergoing their space trials and would join the Sustainer mother ship of that Flotilla, even if it would be a few months more before their Seekers were refit.  Once the Pathfinder vessels completed their refits, he would have to decide if he finished off the expansion of the Shield's forces or the alternative of expanding Starbridge's capacity first.  And, of course, there was the ever growing maintenance costs.  Currently they stood at 6325 MCr nearly 48% of the available income.  The Circles research efforts were still ongoing and for the past several months at least half as much as was expended on maintenance was being spent on colonisation and industrial expansion.

He tapped on his pad and his force planning showed up.  The Shield needed 4 Enchanters, 2 active and 2 in reserve.  The first would be operational in 2 months.  Supporting those ships would be the Swiftsures; 6 active and 2 in reserve.  He currently had 4 so another 4 would need construction.  Filling out the squadron of the heavy battleriders would be a pair of Fearless's.  The Shield would need 16 active and 8 in reserve, at the moment including the 2 finishing construction this month there were 10.  For the lightest battleriders the numbers were a total of 16 Peacekeepers and an astonishing 50 Grace Knifes.  Currently the Shield mustered 11 Peacekeepers and 25 Grace Knives.

Force TO&E was stabilizing as well.  For the Heavy Battlerider squadrons they were:  a Dawnbringer with an Enchanter, 2 Fearless and a Peacekeeper or a Swiftsure, 2 Fearless and 2 Grace Knives.   Patrol Squadrons were a Lord of Morning with 2 Peacekeepers and 3 Grace Knives.  He wanted to have a single squadron of 6 Grace Knives carried by a Lord of Morning. 

Currently he had 5 patrol squadrons covering the systems claimed by the Chantry.  The Wardens were busy raising garrisons on the various worlds and he made a note to push for the development of a troop ship to transport them. 

He swiped and the holographich structure vanished, his gaze returning to the busy yards.   

The Chantry of Light Month 75

Starbridge Station, Lathandras Orbit, Thedas System

From the observation gantry just above the stations CIC Templar Captain Allistar Ti'Lir could see the work ongoing at the yards that made up the bulk of the stations volume.  The Enchanter was progressing, if slowly, its frame complete and artificers, workers and robotic drones starting to assemble its spinal weapons array.  Ships floated in other docks, their armour skin open to space as others worked on their system.  This month would see the Shield's refits completed excepting for the 7th squadron's 3 Fearless Destroyers.  They were currently on station in Sarnia while all other battle riders were here refitting or else shaking down. 

He could not see the latest Pathfinder vessel, the Spectre was beyond the moon doing its space trials.  It would be the eyes of the Pathfinder flotillas.  The plan was to replace the 18 Seekers currently in each Flotilla was 10 refit Seekers and 4 Spectres.  This would double the survey speed of each flotilla in addition to giving each one four ships with enhanced sensor reach.  This would increase the maintenance of each flotilla to 480.2 MCr.  That was a 14% increase and a fifth flotilla would be added, with 22 Seekers mothballed.  Three new patrol squadrons had to be built with at least part of their complements coming from the Defence Force itself as it was clear a significant re-organisation was needed.  The Fearlesses would be used with Swiftsures as leaders, and the Peacekeepers and most of the Grace Knives relegated to patrol duties.  It would require some changes to the current squadron structures and the construction of more Dawnbringers.

What to do about Sarnia though?  Even now the Fold points were not fully explored and trying to build or assemble when the latest mobile repair docks were available would still take a long time.  But clearly something needed to be done to increase the number of eyes in that system.


SEEKER R1 class ES        12 Hull    TL 3
[2] SAXiHLQsJc1 [4]
12 RCP  13 MCP       Trg:1        Cost =  186/ 27.9
HTK 7   Sx1  Ax1  Lx1

The improved survey instruments replace the ageing standard systems of the original ships.  To accomadate the increased array size of the new survey instruments part of the ships shield generators were sacrificed. 

SPECTRE class CT        16 Hull    TL 3
[2] SSAXiHXrLQsJc1jc1 [4]
16 RCP  9 MCP       Trg:1        Cost =  261/ 39.2
HTK 10   Sx2  Ax1  Lx1 

Incorporating improved survey instruments and the recently developed phased array and sensor enhancement computer systems the Spectre is twice as efficent at survey.  This ship is intended to perform probes as its sensor range is substantially increased. 

HALLA (TUG) class FT4     30 Hull    TL 3
[3] SAJc1x8TTJc1Jc1HQsJc1 [4]
30 RCP  45 MCP       Trg:1        Cost =  242/ 18.2
HTK 17   Sx1  Ax1  Tx2

The Halla will allow the Shield to move its Sentry bases around, enabling them to be constructed at single fixed point rather than needing to be built on station.  Why bases can't be transported in jump racks is beyond me!

House Rule Change for J-small craft
Starslayer and I talked about this and we settled on the following speeds for J-small craft:
Cutter:  Tac Speed 10 Inter-System Speed 3  (Speed of a DD)
Shuttle:  Tac Speed 9  Inter-System Speed 3  (Speed of a CA/CL)
Assault Shuttle:  Tac Speed 12 Inter-System Speed 4 (Speed of a CT)

This would allow us to have fighters starting at Tac Speed 13-ish if we decide to go with fighters at all. Pinnace's are going to take some thought and back and forth since they would need to be Jc based.  I also admit I have a lot of trouble with kinetic interceptors not killing fighters a lot better than they do.  Given they do damage to ships, something no other pointdefence is capable of, and given their tracking capabilities smacking a fighter out of the sky seems like it should be childs play.