It was a scarce eight days after the capture of the Axis destroyers in the Porch system that the Commonwealth’s 3rd Field Fleet made its assault into the Eleto system. Waiting for them were the rightfully anxious Axis defenders. Six type-5 bases, evenly divided between capital missile and fighter types, held station six light-seconds from the warp point. Behind them at nine light-seconds was one undersized type-2 equipped with the necessary automated weapons control systems. All the bases had the latest refits, and 10 of the 42 F1 Hatchet squadrons maintained a combat area patrol around the warp point. As for escort shuttles assigned to the bases, none were present. Their miniscule numbers wouldn’t have made a difference under the circumstances. Their personnel capacity was put to better use transporting Comensal civilians from Eleto to Evergreen. Those shuttles and pinnaces that could be spared from the bases were either bringing fresh stock of mine patterns and weapon buoys from the Evergreen station or going with the escort shuttles to evacuate civilians.

Keeping the Hatchet CAP company was Eleto’s only mobile force: five destroyers and a light cruiser. There was a Flak2 corvette as well, but it literally left its construction berth at Eleto station four days prior. Painfully green, the crew knew it would be up to luck for their point defense systems to shoot down any abomination fighter. They got their chance when the first wave arrived. Having detailed information on the defenses and attacking so soon after obtaining it, Crajen Admiral Coopersmith didn’t need to send in a pinnace probe, nor made use of his armed pinnaces. Five Avami assault carriers, followed by a Luttfomi minesweeper, arrived on a vector that kept their rear arcs clear of the type-5 bases both on entry and exit vectors. The mobile force, one light-second out, was orbiting the warp point in an arbitrarily clockwise fashion and thus were in engagement range of the arrivals. The addition of the Flak2 was noted, as well as strength of the buoy parks, 150 total and nestled in the minefield patterns. A bare 30 more buoys had been added, and as for the mine patterns there were 270, 60 more than was recorded in the Thunderfoot’s databanks, no doubt drawn from stocks meant for the front line.

Loaded with nuke-armed CAMs on their external racks, and with transit-addled beam weapons, the first wave wiped out two destroyers while only the Axis CL managed to fire back, hitting the third Avami. Two missile bases fired on the same carrier, and along with four activated CAP squadrons that carrier was destroyed. A second Avami sustained internal damage though no fighter bays were hit. Only one fighter base crashed launched 10 squadrons while the BS2 crew struggled to activate their automated weapon control systems.

The remaining first wave carriers continued their ponderous turns to achieve their exit vectors while the second wave emerged. Three Engineer class minesweepers were followed by three Bedrock assault carriers. The first wave carriers launched their 40 Shark squadrons, engaging six Axis CAP squadrons while the other four, now free of ordnance, rushed back to their bases. Other Shark squadrons went to the orbiting Axis ships with the rest invested in the buoy parks to reduce their numbers. The jammer on the Luttfomi went active, disrupting the coordination of the still-present Hatchet fighters. All six squadrons perished but not before taking down the damaged Avami. The Engineers took down two DDs with assigned Shark squadrons destroyed the rest of the mobile force. 10 patterns of mines in the norther patch were blotted away with external clearance charges from the Engineers. The BS2 crew, again fumbling and wishing that one BS5R had back-up controls, watched as all 180 buoys were shot down by Shark fighters.

Now active, the third BS5R joined the other two in attacking the third Bedrock. Combined, they collapsed the shields and one-third of the armor. They knew the carrier would transit out before being hit again, but they had damaged it nonetheless, and in the next volley all three BS5Rs would fire as a coordinated team and use their external missile racks to take on the minesweepers after they breach the targeted minefield patch.

Orientated and ready, the Engineer trio and the Luttfomi entered the minefield patch at dead slow speed with the third wave entering; just three Humarsh Monitor-class superdreadnoughts replaced the retiring Avami and Bedrock carriers, with the Bedrocks leaving their 15 Shark squadrons behind. With their shielding, armor, erratic maneuvering and previously deployed EDMs, each sweeper was beset by nine patterns. The Luttfomi lost all shields with the Engineers losing half, but the mine patch was gone with tractor beams in wide mode and mine-clearance rounds from the Engineers’ missile launchers taking the rest. A single Shark squadron went down the route leading to the BS5s, finding no additional patterns. The final act was set.

The BS5R trio fired in unison on the Luttfomi. Of the 57 capital missiles and 3 spinal force beams fired only 6 missiles and one beam hit. The sweepers and Monitors advanced; the Luttfomi launched both pinnaces, heading for the warp point. At 5 light-second range all seven ships focused on one BS5R with missiles while the force beams selected another. The Monitors’ lasing warheads for their capital missiles erasing half the armor on their target. In turn the BS5Rs fired on the Luttfomi and used their nuke armed external capital missiles along with internally launched antimatter ones. With no other ship to drawn upon the Luttfomi put up a worthy defense but 71 capital missiles were too much. Armor was breached and all 12 advanced point defense stations were destroyed. Even so the ship kept station because it still had all its engines and weapons to use.

At 4 light-second range the BS5Rs focused their missiles on an Engineer while using their spinal force beams, along with those on the BS5Vs, on the Luttfomi. The remaining shields on the Engineer went down with one-third of the armor. The Luttfomi lost two engine rooms, prompting it to start turning to move out of range. The beset-upon BS5R’s armor was compromised and lost four launchers.

All the BS5Vs had crash-launched their remaining squadrons, totaling 32, but retained them over the bases. Through hard experience they knew the abomination sweepers had jammers. They were waiting until at least the minesweepers were gone before advancing, and hoping the four CAP squadrons that returned will be able to be rearmed in time. Thanks to the lasing heads on the standard missiles fired by the Engineers the first BS5R lost all its launchers and was knocked out of datalink with its brethren.

The range dropped to 2 light-seconds, and the force beam bombardment of the second BS5R paid off. The Monitors used their capital energy beams for the first time, gutting the interior of the second BS5R. This finally prompted the Hatchet horde, 192 strong, to charge the ships. On their part the ships slowed to a crawl again, enveloped by their 330 Shark fighters. Despite being outnumbers and with datalinks jammed the Hatchets went after the Engineers. Before being blotted out the Axis pilots claimed one Engineer with another losing all its passive defenses, the last damage provided by the last intact BS5R.

Still moving slowly enough to generate the maximum about of EM the ships continued their advance. The Sharks had moved to invest the bases. Armed with full or partial loadouts of nuke-armed close attack missiles there was no doubt the bases would be destroyed, even with an Axis jammer on one base operating at full blast. Defiant and spiteful to the last, the bases still fired their spinal force beams against the retiring Luttfomi, now 6 light-seconds distant. Its last engine was hit and shut down. The last BS5R was destroyed, and the BS5Vs fired their nuke-armed CAMs at the previously hit Engineer, doing catastrophic damage. Still, it was in datalink with its third brethren and had both capital force beams. They fired on the BS5V that had the active jammer, and the Sharks did the rest. As for the sole BS2 it was showered with nuke-armed capital missiles until it perished. A SAR operation was conducted with low priority given to recover Axis pods; a practical measure as all the big bases died when the antimatter warheads in their collapsed magazines detonated.

For the loss of two Avami carriers, and Engineer sweeper, 65 Sharks and heavy damage inflicted on two sweepers the Third Field Fleet gained uncontested access to the Eletoshani system. 55 Sharks were without hanger bays to return to, and with no free shuttle bay space to recover them Admiral Coopersmith had them scuttled. Repair ships tended to the damaged sweepers at the warp point. Leaving his larger and slower carriers, battleships, dreadnaughts and superdreadnaughts, with escorts, heading for Evergreen, Coopersmith took the remainder of the fleet to Eleto. He hoped the Axis didn’t follow their recorded protocol and nuked the four billion Eleto population. They could’ve done so in the forty-five years they’ve occupied the system. Aside from the economic perspective, what prompted such staunch xenophobes to keep the Eleto alive? At max speed it will take two days to get to Eleto, and hopefully an answer.

********

It was in the afternoon when Trodanscu Vat received his weekly grocery delivery. He lived 10 kilometers northeast of Millstand and was permitted to live in his house in the countryside due to special dispensation and conditions. He wasn’t in the Eleto military when his world was conquered by the Comensal, having employment as a wildlife manager at the time. He was allowed to continue working for the Natural Resources Bureau until his retirement ten years ago. At that time, he kept his house, but it could no longer be connected to the electrical grid or make use of solar panels. So, in the past ten years Vat cut down wood for his fireplace, spending his winters on the first floor and only having batteries, short-lived ones at that, for an approved, albeit archaic, reception-only radio. The idea was to make Vat leave his house for good and move elsewhere, especially in his retirement years. But Vat made a vow this wife, a nurse during the war and killed on Evergreen (the other habitable planet in the system) that he’ll stay at the house for as long as it takes.

The delivery man only had three bags of groceries and supplies for Vat also fished and did some farming on his land. One of the few vices he had was beer. Only in the winter did he appreciate an appropriately chilled bottle for he had no refrigerator. The last item handed over was a pack of batteries, 36 in all with 6 to a box. He thanked the man, giving him a tip as well as one of his beers before sending him off. After a few minutes of stowing the groceries, Vat then orientated the battery pack and selected one of the boxes. He opened it, finding a folded note as expected. As a member of the resistance, Vat had been keeping tabs on the Comensal spaceport for years, using his ghillie suit to get into prime vantage points.

Vat finished reading the note, took it to the fireplace and burnt it completely. He retrieved two batteries from the open box, inspecting them as instructed in the note, feeling satisfaction. The day had come. Ever since joining the resistance he made it clear that he wanted to infiltrate the spaceport and destroy it. To that end he was supplied with information on the layout of the spaceport and its sundry of maintenance shafts and passageways. He studied the notes as they were provided by his resistance contacts, committing everything to memory. Decades of patience and years of anticipation were now about to pay off.

He gathered his gear, only bothering to bring enough water and jerky for three days. A tool pouch was stocked, and the special batteries that came with the delivery were also included. A final inspection of the ghillie suit met Vat’s twin mouths smiles of approval. The house was put in order, fireplace extinguished and all windows and doors closed. He had designated one of his great nephews to inherit the property. Except one thing. With reverence Vat removed an old-style photo of his deceased wife from its frame and tucked it into the tool pouch. He left the house, leaving the key at a predesignated spot. At the edge of the woods bordering his property Vat spared one last look at his house in the distance, all four eyes kept from watering with great effort. All the tears he had shed were done years ago.

Walking slowly but surely it took two days to reach the spaceport. At this point Vat donned the ghillie suit, waiting for the night, and then slowly crept across the clear zone to get to the 20-meter-tall wall that encircled the complex. The bunkers, both manned and automated, were well known to Vat and easily avoided. As for the buried antipersonnel mines Vat avoided them as he knew what to look for. The grass grew stunted over the buried mines, something that the Boneheads never bothered to correct, no doubt due to the density of the pattern. Like a patient ghost Vat reached a portion of the wall where there was an access hatch. He retrieved one of the batteries in his tool pouch, popping off the top to reveal it as a data stick. The hatch had a maintenance panel with a data port, and with gingerly application the disguised data stick was inserted. No beep or pulsing light was issued from the panel, but the sound of the hatch’s locks disengaging was faintly heard. Vat retrieved the data stick, opened the hatch and entered, ensuring the hatch closed behind him gently.

Going down the passageway, Vat disposed of his suit in an alcove filled with maintenance tools and cases. He kept moving, trusting his memory on the layout as the lighting was low. Down a shaft, across narrow walkways, and crawling through a duct in what felt like an eternity Vat reached his goal. It was a munitions magazine, one designated for fighter ordnance. He stayed in the shadows, thanking his Eleto wiles that not one Bonehead saw him or that any alarms tripped. No doubt was in his mind that the first data stick did more than unlock the hatch.

The sound of distant Comensal voices made Vat clench his four hands into fists. He waited, listening as the voices slowly trailed off before moving again, despite his own heartbeat threatening to render him deaf. He reached that part of the magazine where close assault missiles equipped for antimatter were on a loading carousel. The lack of visible telltales told him the missiles were unloaded, so his eyes went to a portion of the wall where, in the notes he received over the past few months, the missiles would interface with the antimatter loading system. Summoning his guile, the old Eleto deftly made his way to the wall, ending in front of an auxiliary control panel. There, beckoning to him, was another port for a data stick. He retrieved the second battery, removed the false top, and without the slightest hesitation inserted it, being rewarded this time with a low, soft chime.

Due to his raging heartbeat ringing in his ears Vat didn’t hear the shot. He staggered backwards and fell as his four legs betrayed him. An angry Comensal rushed over and dragged him away while another inspected the panel, finding the data stick. Managing to open one eye, Vat saw that Comensal work over the panel in an obvious frenzy, only to pull out the data stick after the panel refused to respond. A moment later a hideous alarm blared loudly. Vat didn’t hear it so much as feel the subtle vibrations from the floor. The Comensal that dragged Vat was now yelling at him in butchered Eleto, pointing a gun at his face. Then, at that moment, the mortally wounded Eletoshani saw a port open in the wall, a port that was meant to have a close attack missile attached to it for a load of antimatter.

The computer wizards of the Eleto resistance had come through again. It was during the expansion of the spaceport that a security flaw in the Axis network was exposed and exploited. The antimatter generator in the spaceport had new firmware chips installed during the expansion, all equipped with stealth programming that awaited a command issued from the data stick. The generator was spun up while safety interlocks remained unengaged for those programs involved were informed it was a dry test, meant to test the integrity of the magnetic containment along the transit tube to the magazines. Since normal particles were used in a dry test there was no need for a warhead at the far end.

There were physical fail safes but required intervention of the operators at the main control. Unfortunately, the operators were distracted by fake telltales on their controls that took precious moments to clear. Mainly that the magnetic containment was failing while it was not. When enough antimatter was generated for one close attack missile it was sent down the transit tube, the physical fail safes having been activated a fraction of a second too late. Vat watched as the poor Comensal comically placed his gloves hands over the port as if it would stop the antimatter. Despite the pain, despite the gun from the other Comensal being shoved into his gut, Vat had the laugh at the site, only wishing the scene could be recorded…

The antimatter that impacted and then reacted unfavorably with the Comensal’s hands produced an explosion, that, on its own, would’ve destroyed the spaceport and the ground base attached to it. But that wasn’t all, for the landing pads had a set of shuttles and pinnaces, all filled with Comensal civilians being evacuated to Evergreen. Just a few moments shy of take-off, the small craft had the all-out speed to reach Evergreen free from interception, for that portion of the 3rd Field Fleet with the slower capital ships was only moving at cruising speed. The defenses of that planet would be handled in good time.

In addition to civilians, all sorts of cargo were being taken along as well. Records, medicine, electronic components, small military arms, and fighter munitions. The latter were carried in a cargo pinnace, and among those munitions were 24 topped-off antimatter-armed close attack missiles. That pinnace had begun its ascent when a portion of the pad it occupied heaved up and out, sending a chunk of plasticrete into its engine housing. The cargo pinnace faltered, and at a height of 50 meters it came crashing down. Only one containment field had to hiccup, letting its contents explode, allowing the other close attack missiles to explode their antimatter. The ensuing mushroom cloud could be seen from the Comensal colonial enclave, 60 kilometers away. As for the Eleto city of Millstand, a mere 20 kilometers away, they had a much better view.

*******

Among the fast ships of the 3rd Field Fleet heading for Eleto was a Tzelan-crewed Professor class survey ship. Dr. Dunn, lead scientist, was in the main data processing lab along with Kunus, head of the Inna delegation. The sophistication of the survey equipment made Kunus wish he had such gear back at his homeworld’s space station. Dunn explained the equipment to the gathered Inna to pass away the time.  At the 2 hour point short of arrival Dunn put the image of Eleto on the main flatplanel display. Kunus reflected that it was very much like his home planet, a blue-green orb dappled with white clouds and with one large and one much smaller moon. He had read the captured Comensal records provided by Dunn, records that painted the Eleto, despite having given what the Axis admitted was a drubbing before being conquered, as annoyances that will be disposed of once their usefulness ran out. Kunus wondered if the Comensal will follow through on their enshrined goal of genocide and dispose of the Eleto, only waiting for the approaching ships to come a little closer and still be unable to do anything to stop it.

After a few moments of viewing something caught Kunus’ eye. “What was that flash of light?” He pointed to the image. “There, in the southern hemisphere just now.”

Dunn went to a secondary monitor, accessed the dynamic recording and rewatched the image. He motioned to the other Tzelan scientists present to tend to their instruments. Kunus didn’t interrupt, for he had seen a similar flash of light before, and it didn’t bode anything good. After a few minutes Dunn opened a comm channel to Admiral Coopersmith. The Crajen sounded concerned. “Doctor, I saw what you and your guests saw on your screens. How bad was it?”

“It was at least a two-megaton explosion, Admiral,” Dunn said with professional detachment. “The explosion occurred in the general area of the Comensal spaceport and associated groundbase. So far there have been no addition explosions detected in or near Eleto population centers, save for the city of Millstand, 20 kilometers from the spaceport.”

“I see, Doctor. You had visual focus on Eleto ever since we’ve been in system. There’s been no nuclear or antimatter explosions until now. If the Axis was going to nuke the population, they would’ve done it after our warp point battle or just before we reach the planet, just to rub it on our collective faces. Keep to your observations and inform me of any significant changes.”

“Absolutely, Admiral.” Dunn closed the channel. So, either some grievous Axis mishap happened, or it was the work of Eleto operatives. If the latter, with the explosion happening when it did, meant the Eleto knew about the successful entry into their system and enacted a long-term, well thought out plan. Dunn wondered what else the decades-long occupied race had waiting in the wings.

********

Millstand, a small city of 50,000 at the start of the Axis occupation 45 years ago, now only boasted a little over 20,000. As it was close to the spaceport, it was initially planned to be totally evacuated and leveled down to filled-in foundations and utility tunnels. The Anti-Abomination Security Police (ASP) decided to do something different. They decided to use the city as a training ground for their agents so long as there were inhabitants.

Gradually, the city was depopulated. Young adults of employment age were made to leave the city, only then allowed to return to visit relatives once a year. It was then the ASP agents got their practice. Visitors were very restricted in what could be brought with them. Items that were allowed for one visit became contraband the next, all kept random to the point the ASP joked that ‘your presence alone was a gift enough.’ At the homes of relatives came the real treat. ASP agents would come in unannounced at any time of day, but favored the days after big meals Eleto were fond of having. Bags of trash brought in and dumped in the living rooms was a favorite activity, all claimed to be searching for contraband and secret messages from the resistance. They made it a point of messing up carpeting, using their big, biped feet to ground in rotted fruit skins and used tea packets. This was meant to bring down the inhabitants and make them leave the city, but to their credit only a few hundred increasingly elderly Eleto moved, and only due to deteriorating health.

Regarding health, the ASP had another reprehensible standard. All the original doctors were removed, replaced with doctors from other Eleto cities and had no connection to the Millstand population. These doctors were willing collaborators, giving supportive platitudes while prescribing placebos in lieu of actual medicine. For some their aliments got so bad they had to go to hospitals outside of Millstand for treatment. The problem was that they never returned. Years later, through actual contact with the resistance, the Millstand inhabitants learned that their ailing seniors were instead whisked to the Comensal colonial enclave to be experimented upon and expire or being used as live targets for Comensal young. Rage worthy of legend was an apt description for Millstanders upon learning this, but they remained calm and patient. Oh, ever so patient.

Patient could’ve been the middle name for Losancu Cent. Cent and his wife have lived in Millstand all their lives, running a convenience store. He saw over the decades his neighborhood becoming less and less populated. Empty housing being torn down by ASP agents, as part of their training in searching for hidden ‘contraband’ and with foundations filled in and utility pipes blocked so they wouldn’t become hiding places for resistance agents. Being a convenience store owner, he got more attention (better described as harassment) from ASP agents.

Cent was in his living room, having just cleaned it, not that it was necessary. He and his wife did it yesterday and had only done it now to pass the time while waiting for a delivery. Cent’s son paid a visit earlier, and of course ASP was there that night. Not only did they dump the garbage in the living room again but also used fireplace ash to spread across the plain paper printout of his grandson’s picture that the son brought with him. The son had learned that bringing frames for pictures either resulted in confiscation or destruction right in front of him. The ash was to find any ‘ghost writing’ on the paper, and that same ash was liberally applied to the painting Cent was currently working on. Again, to find ‘ghost writing’ for the resistance. Cent didn’t throw any mutilated painting away, hanging them instead with pride until ASP took them down and burned them in his own fireplace, then on purpose spreading the ashes onto the carpet. Cent kept making his paintings, kept displaying their mutilated states, and kept cleaning the carpet along with his wife. The carpet was never replaced because it was the principal of the matter.

There were no video screens and datapads for households in Millstand. Only relatively primitive radios with preset stations were allowed, but electric power still ran in the city. News was broadcast on those radios, all ASP controlled, and on advertisement fliers.  Cent wasn’t surprised that a pair of fliers came with his delivery, one dozen 40-centimeter-long metallic rods. The rods were used in gardening as guides for climbing flowering vines. The delivery man commented that these fresh rods would do a ‘bang-up job’ in the upcoming growing season. Cent noted the emphasis the man placed on his words, watching him leave. Only upon further examination did Cent find the rods were 15 millimeters in diameter instead of 10 and had a removeable cap. Cent did this and found they were hollow and weren’t balanced. A flashlight confirmed his suspicion for at the bottom of the hollow rod was a 10 millimeter electrically fired bullet. The other end of the rod also had a removeable cap, this one having a receptacle for a power adapter.

When it became clear to the resistance that the Axis was losing territory to the alien Commonwealth it was within the realm of possibility the fighting would arrive at their world. A subtle effort was put in place, one that second-hand, passive resistance members posing as delivery men participated in Millstand. They talked about the usefulness of the universal battery-powered tool grip. On top of the grip was a clip that can hold a heated air blower, fume sprayer, a large soldering bar, heated caulk dispenser, and so on. In total innocence these resistance members reminded people how there were laser rod attachments for those grips and used in friendly laser tag games. Games that were, of course, banned by ASP decades ago. It would be nice, they said, for the day that such games would return.

Cent then read the fliers. The first one had advertisements printed only on one side of the paper. On the lower center was an advert for the very same metal rods he had received, captioned ‘Climbing Flower Vines Rods, Great For The Upcoming Planting Season, In Limited Supply – Get Yours Today Before They’re Sold Out.’ The other flyer held the usual seasonal sage advice on weather, but again, like with the delivery man, there was a subtle emphasis in the writing. ‘Remember, Spring brings strong storms and winds from the northwest, so keep your back to the nor’westers while outside. Also wear your glasses while outside in the Spring so aggressive blown pollen won’t water your eyes.’ Perhaps the most telling item on the fliers was the font. It was of the kind used on graduation announcement cards and on certificates of achievement. Cent mulled over what he read, made logical conclusions, and burned the fliers in his fireplace.

Four days later. Cent’s wife had the morning shift at the convenience store. As for Cent he was having breakfast, occasionally looking out a window at an abandoned home at the end of the street. ASP was conducting an exercise, ripping up the walls and floors to find hidden cavities that could hold contraband items. They even brought a portable incinerator to burn the ripped-out wood panels and flooring, being fed by a conveyor belt. It was noisy to the point of irritation, likely done on purpose to ruin what was a rather nice, clear, windless morning.

Cent had just turned his back to the window and re-entered the kitchen when, with the peripheral vision of his back pair of eye stalks, there was a brief flash of light. Cent recalled that instant the civil defense drills all those decades previously and hit the floor, eyes close and facing down. He waited for several long, anxious moments. What sounded like a brush of wind played off his north facing windows, and the radio played angry static instead of music. The old Eleto stood up, ignoring his four arthritic knees, and went to have a look. To the northwest he saw a mushroom cloud rising some 20 kilometers away and right where the spaceport was located. He also saw an ASP agent out in the street by the abandoned house, speaking into a handcomm. When another agent came out of the house he was waved back in by the first agent, most likely the senior agent in charge. At that moment Cent knew what to do.

Grabbing the universal tool grip and placing the dozen disguised garden rods in an open top backpack, Cent went outside. There he met by four other Eleto, all neighbors further down the street and similarly equipped. As one, they all prepped their improvised guns and walked towards the ASP agent. Clearly occupied by the handcomm and looking at the distant mushroom cloud he didn’t sense the Eleto approach. Adrenaline surged in Cent’s body, and his knees didn’t ache as much. The group got as close as 10 meters from the agent before they stopped. Cent raised his gun. “Hey, Bonehead!” he yelled with both mouths and in lightly accented Comensal, all thanks to decades of secret practice and listening to Comensal speech, especially during their contraband inspections. The agent turned around, genuinely surprised at the sight of five armed ‘abominations.’ On his part Cent was delighted, the ASP agent was the one that directed most of the wanton spoilage of his house for the past ten years. The downright gleeful look the agent had when carrying out his job was long gone. “Garbage Day!” Cent yelled and fired, the 10mm bullet going through the agent’s neck. As a group the Eleto rushed the agent and dragged him to the conveyor belt connected to the incinerator. There was enough life in the dying Comensal that his contorted face mimicked a cry as he was dumped into the flames. Cent replaced the spent rod with a fresh one. An agent appeared at the front door and was the recipient of five bullets to the chest and head. There were two more agents, and they met the same fate as the first two. Cent had the incinerator operate at full blast, all four bodies now consigned to the ultimate form of desecration in Eleto culture.

Eleto in the rest of Millstand had risen and attacked. Aided by members of the dedicated resistance movement that reached Millstand days earlier, every ASP agent in Millstand, 70 in all, were killed with the majority in their HQ in the center of the city. As for those collaborator Eleto, the doctors and a few regular citizens that were found out over the decades, they weren’t killed but instead held for trial for crimes commented against the citizens. What contempt that could be expressed was in the form of medical diplomas and other displays of recognition being ripped up and stepped on. It was late afternoon before Cent reunited with his wife, having also participated with her own improvised gun, having dinner with the full knowledge that the leftovers won’t end up on the carpet ever again.

*******

Admiral Coopersmith, twenty minutes after his talk with Dr. Dunn, sent his fighters ahead of his force to deal with the orbitals over Eleto Prime, hedging that the spaceport was indeed destroyed, taking the fighter groundbase along with it. Forty squadrons of F2 Sharks, each one loaded with a FRAM and a pair of fighter missiles armed with lasing warheads, engaged the three BS5Rs, the small space station, and exactly two squadrons of F2 Hatchet fighters. Engaging at 1.5 light-second range, the Sharks were outside of the defense envelope of the bases and accepted the lower accuracy of their own missile salvos. The space station crumpled easily enough, and the BS5Rs had their armor scoured so thoroughly that their external ordnance racks were wrecked. With minimal losses the bases were destroyed, and a closely following flight of recon pinnaces orbited the planet, observing the activity below.

Coopersmith regarded the main screen in his flagship’s CIC with appreciative eyes. “Looks like the wind will carry most of the fallout away from Millstand, Doctor,” he said over the audio link to Dunn. “Good thing the explosion wasn’t any larger, and the city avoid the heat flash and overpressure. Still, I think the Eleto will have that city evacuated as a precaution.”

“A likely outcome, Admiral,” said Dunn over the link. “I’ve been monitoring the radio traffic. Thanks to the Eleto language file that was included in the captured data we’re able to make heads and tails of what’s happening. Resistance movements are calling on all citizens to take up the cause of liberation and engage Comensal wherever they are. As for Comensal traffic, it’s still encrypted, but the transmission sources are over the air, centered on the colonial enclave and a handful of other locations, most likely Axis Army detachments. Eleto radio reports conventional missile strikes against radio transmission towers.”

Coopersmith looked as if he wanted to divine guidance from the view screen. “Making first contact with a race that’s liberating itself from enemy occupation has no precedent. Dr. Dunn, where do we even…”

“Admiral,” said a CIC staff member, “we’re getting a redirected tight-beam radio signal from one of our fast battleships. The sender is requesting to communicate with the senior officer in charge. Also, they’re using a peculiar form of translated Terpla’n standard.”

“This is strange,” Coopersmith said to no one in particular. “They were able to secure the means to see and communicate with us so soon?”

“Perhaps the resistance knew more about the war situation than the Axis dared believe possible,” said Dunn over the link, “Admiral, we don’t exactly have a diplomatic staff on call, but we need to establish contact so as to alleviate any concerns they have over our presence.”

“So true, Dr. Dunn. On hindsight we should’ve believed more in a positive outcome. Change over to a secure channel and listen. I’ll appreciate any insights you and Dr. Kunus may have afterwards.”

“Certainly, Admiral.”

Coopersmith motioned his left hand and associated clawed arm to the comm officer. There was a brief storm of static, followed by a voice. “Salutations. Before preceding further, please excuse if my translated voice has a Comensal accent. We’re using a Terpla’n language database complied by the Axis. Given the subtlety the Axis typically approach things the resulting words may sound arrogant. I’m Mr. Lake, a senior member of the Resistance.”

“Greetings, Mr. Lake. I’m Admiral Coopersmith. Since dispatching the Axis forces at the warp point and over Eleto we’ve observed the activities occurring on the surface of your planet. Axis army forces are bombarding your civilian radio broadcasting infrastructure. We’re able to provide help in silencing their launchers without resorting to the use of nuclear weaponry.”

“Yes, that will be most helpful. Especially if you have a stock of kinetic interdiction satellites. The Axis had recently perfected their own version of it and would’ve built of a stockpile and use them as a precursor before nuclear annihilation.” A pause followed, allowing Coopersmith to consider what would’ve occurred had the liberation occurred even a few months later. “Please send down a liaison team to better coordinate our response to what is, in essence, a petty and pathetic display by the Axis for finding themselves in an untenable situation. Oh, though it may sound bigoted on our part, please don’t send any members of bipedal races. We’ve been occupied for forty-five years, and our well-deserved hatred for Comensal can’t be tempered for the foreseeable future.”

“Understandable, Mr. Lake. I will consult with my senior Army officer in the selection of the team.” The conversation went on for a few more minutes, agreeing on a location and means of contact as Lake wasn’t sure that his current transmission site, despite using tight-beam radio, wouldn’t be hit by an Axis missile as it was a known location in their records. As for Dr. Dunn he was disappointed that, for the time being, he couldn’t go to the planet. He then looked at Kunus, the much shorter Inna having comprehended the wise look the Tzelan wore. “Well, Dr. Kunus, I’ll put in a word for you to Coopersmith to include you in the liaison team. Eleto and Inna are practically next-door neighbors as far as warp connections go, and you can use your race’s inherent skill at diplomacy to form a good first impression.”

“Thank you, Dunn. Whatever happens next I can safely say a promotion to the ruling committee at university is all but certain now.”

There was no rest for Lord Admiral Janus after arriving in the Whel system with the bulk of the Expeditionary Fleet. After placing the fleet under the administration of the port admiral at the Whel space station both Janus and Region General Ronon immediately went on to the Hokum home system in a corvette-sized transport. After brief fanfare on Hokum Prime the two officers participated in a committee crafting the formal military cooperation treaty with the Commonwealth of Planetary States. Four days after arrival Janus received an invitation, signed by Emperor Valsur, to attend a primary school tennis exhibition. From what she learned over the years was that emperors holding off-the-record meetings would do so in public places, and that any conversations held could be assigned plausible deniability.

As the meeting was in a public place, it was implied to hold a low profile, so Janus wore an appropriate civilian vest. At the tennis court she was discreetly directed by an attendant to an empty spot in the bleachers. Next to that empty spot was Emperor Valsur, wearing a university tennis team jacket and a sun visor. Without fanfare Janus sat next to him, feeling, despite her age, that she was a student sitting next to a primary school principal.

“No need to feel unease, Janus,” said Valsur, turning his head slightly. “We’re going to have some small talk while watching my son play tennis.” He motioned to the court where Vendex was playing rather strong against his opponent. In Hokum tennis the player has a racket in both dominant hands. For Vendex it was his right front and right rear hands. “Same hand dominance like his father,” Valsur said with pride. “He’ll clean up the courts when he gets to secondary school.” He motioned to the occupants of the bleachers. “I’m not like the first emperors. They would’ve cleared out bleachers for a private match and had a large security presence. I have only one bodyguard and he’s been instructed to prioritize my son instead of me. We can always elect a new emperor. The parents here are far more interested in the matches than listening to our conversation.”

Janus took in what Valsur said, noting how the spectators, the parents of the players, were attentive to the action on the court. It was likely they knew Valsur was sitting among them but had manners to give him privacy. “I’ve been known as a terror of the court back in the Academy and have the plaques to prove it. I see your jacket that you’ve two championship chevrons. Which teams did you win against to get those?”

After a few minutes of tennis banter Valsur took a sip of canned iced tea and offered Janus an unopened one. “The stock of the new missile pods has been steadily increasing, and we’ve been fortunate that we haven’t encountered the situation of using them where Axis forces could report their use to higher authority. If that occurs, do you support the idea of informing our Commonwealth allies that we possess such a weapon?”

Janus opened the can and took a sip. “If we end up doing a combined assault against a particularly heavily defended Axis system then I’m open to informing them about the technology. Or, if they inform us that they possess the technology then we can reciprocate.”

“Yes, I imagine after the armed pinnace losses they’ve told us about they’re motivated to find a solution.” Valsur paused as he clapped with all four hands as his son delivered a strong return stroke with his back right racket. “The Commonwealth has expressed its appreciation for all the assistance we provided so far. They provided technical details of a new small craft called a reconnaissance pinnace. No doubt there will be those that want us to do the same with missile pod technology, but I feel it prudent to hold that information close for the time being. That is, unless, the Axis surprises use with missile pods of their own.”

“So true, Sir.” In this informal setting it was permitted to address the Emperor as ‘sir’ instead of ‘lord’. “Though I suspect the Commonwealth is giving us those pinnace details because the Axis has seen its use in the field. In that regard we’ll have parity.”

Valsur took a sip of his canned tea. “I’ll put a fire under Finance to assign funding for the project. Holding back on three dreadnaughts ought to do it.”

After ten minutes Vendex won his match, earning a round of applause from the spectators. After a congratulatory wave Valsur turned to Janus. “An impressive set of swings, I must say. My son worked his opponent into a corner that left only a little breathing room. Speaking of breathing room, what is your opinion on the Com Pocket?”

Having anticipated this question, Janus gave an answer she composed on her journey to Hokum. “It is my opinion that we stop investing on minefields covering the warp points that lead out of the pocket, as well as stop sending in ships to ferret them out. If we do, then we’re enabling the Axis raiding force to accomplish its second goal – tying down our forces and resources.”

“Interesting, Janus. The Naval Strategic Board told me that more than a handful of younger admirals want to go into the Com Pocket willy-nilly, hunting down the raiding group like it was ‘find the freshmen’ during the first week of university. Can you elaborate on your assertion?”

Janus replied after taking a swig from her can of iced tea. “After reading the reports on the abandoned Axis ships in Abyssal-019, and consulting with Professor Alba during my stop at Citadel, I believe the raiding force will sequester itself at a preselected location in one of the Com Pocket systems once their supplies reach a two- or three-month level. They may send empty supply ships in a feint that will preoccupy our forces and make them conduct unproductive searches.”

Valsur applauded as the next set of tennis players took to the court. “Interesting. Then why did the Comensal crews of the Abyssal ships sacrifice themselves? Couldn’t they place themselves in medically induced hibernation?”

“There was no evidence, either in captured Comensal documentation or in ship databases, even hardcopies, for such a procedure. Alba said that the Comensal have kept to some pre-space cultural heritage. They believe that any long-term unconsciousness, either through comas or medically induced hibernation, would invite malicious spirits to invade and take over their bodies. In the modern setting this translates into being revived by aliens and taken as slaves or worse. This also explains why the crews extinguished themselves in the void of space as they didn’t want to leave any bodies on their ships for aliens to find and experimented on.”

After a moment of contemplation Valsur finished his iced tea. “Instead of being battlefield captures, the Abyssal-019 ships were abandoned in place. What are the chances that some tripwire software is embedded in those ships’ computers?”

“Very low, Sir. Of all the ships we’ve captured to date, not even one has shown evidence of such software. Besides, our technicians have become quite proficient in Comensal shipboard software. They found what amounted to be a ‘factory reset’ hardwire command connected their data cores, independent of the actual data erasure protocol. It doesn’t matter if the cores are erased to prevent capture or after we’ve gathered what we needed. Use the factory reset, and those programs needed to operate the ship are returned to baseline while anything else that required high level authorization is erased. I suspect this procedure is used when ships are abandoned, like in Abyssal-019, or placed into mothballs so that sensitive software doesn’t interfere with the reactivation process.”

Valsur handed his empty can to a passing snack vendor. “From my viewpoint the Com Pocket will become irrelevant in months. Already the minefields in those systems deemed important are thick enough to deplete whatever stock of mine clearance rounds the Comensal have on hand, not to mention using empty freighters as mine sponges. I’ve decided that reinforcements for Admiral Jocelin’s fleet, as well as supplies for the conversion work in Cain, will be set with strong escort through the Com Packet in the most direct route. Any attack on them will be obliterated, like the one that occurred in Com-22.”

“I agree, Sir. For all the fighters and small craft the Comensal deployed, they only destroyed one carrier. I believe that was the extent of their fighter and small craft force. We can always use the remaining Fast Walker scouts to reestablish the com and scanner buoy chains in the Com Pocket systems.”

Valsur watched the current match for a minute. “I believe that’s enough business for today, Janus,” he said without turning his head. “Please stay for the next hour or so. The level of tennis proficiency being displayed isn’t going to appreciate itself. Also my son has expressed an interest to see you.”

“I’d be delighted, Sir. I’m sure he will appreciate some pointers from a fellow tennis player.”

********

Nisecu Lake arrived at the meeting place at the appointed time, a few minutes past midnight. It was a lumber yard, and the freshly cut logs were pungent after a steady rain a few hours ago. There was a fence, easily bypassed, and the security guard had been given a hefty bribe to be elsewhere for the next half hour. With both mouths Lake made a bird call consistent with that of the local aviary, and was answered by two calls in turn, one with a noticeable higher pitch.

After walking past four rows he found the source of the calls. Both were Eleto, like himself, and wore dark rain jackets. Lake recognized them as Brant and Smiler. Brant ran several resistance cells, much like Lake, with particular attention paid to the Comensal Anti-Abomination Security Police (ASP). Smiler’s resistance cells kept tabs on the Axis Army units. Whereas Brant could blend into a crowd readily, it was not the case for Smiler. In his youth Smiler was picked up during an ASP sweep and held for several days after a resistance cell sabotage several ASP vehicles. All of Smiler’s teeth were knocked out and it required a set of surgeries to replace them. One lasting after effect was that his natural resting face resulted in smiles, and it took conscious effort to suppress them for Comensal in general and ASP agents in particular hated Eletoshani smiles. But here in this case the harden resistance operative allowed himself to relax. “Three of us in one place,” Smiler said with both mouths, speaking with a low voice. In addition to hating Eleto smiles the Comensal made it a law that Eleto were to speak with only one mouth when in the presence of a Comensal. “Unusual, and dangerous.”

“Agreed,” said Brant, his four eyes kept moving out of habit under the circumstances. “It has to be something damn important.”

“It is,” Lake said. “No doubt both of you had been informed by your operatives of inexplicable Axis activity in the past few days?”

“I have,” Smiler confirmed. “Army units have been consolidating at their operating bases with indecent haste, prepping tactical missile batteries and armored units. Some are now in the process of being airlifted to the colonial enclave.”

“ASP personnel have also appeared to be consolidating as well,” Brant added. “Their patrols went down considerably. As for media control, they clamped down hard. Only AI announcers for news and censored programs. Nothing live with Eleto at all.”

Smiler made the effort to look serious, fighting the urge of his mouths to smile. “It could be just another major exercise on the boneheads’ part. They do this every other year, but we wouldn’t be holding this gathering if that was the case. Besides, they held a similar exercise last year.”

Like Smiler, Lake made a serious face. “So true. I have earlier today learned that both the Comensal governor and the head military leader are both now at the underground command center at the spaceport. Shuttles and pinnaces will start taking Comensal civilians to Evergreen within the hour. A complete evacuation.”

All four of Smiler’s eyes locked onto Lake. “They’ve never done that before. Does this mean they’re going…”

“You’re sure of your information?” Brent said bluntly.

“Totally, Brent. What happened a few days ago was that an alien Commonwealth force, or one of their allies, had entered the Porch system and engaged Axis ships. That they have appeared suddenly leads us to believe there was previously unknown closed warp point in Porch. Also, from the intercepted information we’ve obtained, the aliens were lying in wait and ambushed the Axis ships being sent to the front lines.”

Brant made an Eleto’s equivalent of a nod. “That means they had the Porch system under surveillance for some time, and the boneheads weren’t the wiser for it.”

Smiler grunted. “How likely do you think the alien Commonwealth force knows about our system?”

“Very likely,” Lake offered. “The last transmission from Porch was when the comm and scanner buoys at the warp point leading back to Eleto were destroyed by a small craft. If the aliens have been observing Porch long enough to pick the time and place to ambush the Axis ships then we can expect them to assault the Axis warp point defenses within a few weeks, if not days.”

It was Brant’s turn to look serious. “If they’re evacuating the civilians, by the time they’re done won’t they start nuking the planet to exterminate us, just like they boast about doing to primitive races in their history texts?”

“Not if we can help it,” Lake said with a pair of smiles. “I’ve already enacted the contingency plans. Now that both the governor and military commander are in one place, and at a prime target no less, we can ensure that no nuclear bombardment can occur. Even with one of them dead the boneheads can’t authorize a bombardment since they’re sticklers in following protocols and consensus. With both dead they will have to wait for verified authorization from the Comensal homeworld, and that will not happen if the aliens are successful in securing the system.”

Smiler grunted again. “Your contingency plans, Lake, include the destruction of the spaceport and its attached military base. That means using one of the boneheads’ own antimatter warheads. All the other antimatter warheads for their space fighters will go up as well. The city of Millstand is near that spaceport…”

Lake lifted a pair of forestalling hands. “The boneheads have been steadily reducing the population of Millstand over the decades by forcing offspring to move elsewhere and destroying empty homes, businesses, infrastructure and foundations. Only 20,000 remain, all senior citizens. Leaving the spaceport and its contingent of small craft and fighters intact will lend to their use in the extermination of our race. It will be on my conscious for the rest of my days, and I will gladly answer for it, even damnation, if we succeed in our liberation, but I will be damned nonetheless if we didn’t destroy that spaceport when we had the chance.”

Smiler rubbed the tuft of hair on the top of his head. “Lake, just when will you need our operatives go into action?”

“When the warp point defenses announce they’re under attack. We’ll know as soon as the boneheads at the spaceport are informed. They’ll still be evacuating civilians because some of the small craft are moving minefield patterns and weapon buoys slated for the front lines to the warp point. That will give us the time we need.”

“And I will need that time,” said Brent, his four-stalked eyes looking eager. “I have a plan for the Millstand inhabitants that’s been in the works for decades. ASP has been using Millstand as a practice ground for new agents. Those boneheads are going to find out what senior citizens with plenty of spare time are capable of.”

For people who are interested, there's a follow-up game to this one going on right now: https://forum.paradoxplaza.com/forum/threads/sirius-business-a-c-aurora-forum-game-v2-5.1621469

The Chantry of Light Month 80

Council Chambers, Lathandras, Thedas System

Divine Rosamund XII sat on her throne observing the back and forth of the budget debate.  She blinked and her smart glasses brought up a set of screens.  Templar-Captain Ti'Lir was doing an able job defending his requests even if it had come up that the projected efficiency increase in the Pathfinder Flotillas was going to be less than earlier proposed. Joy, Xi doesn't get boosted by Xr like I had hoped!  Her fingers danced in mid air and the latest census and tax results displayed themselves next to each system the Chantry had settled.  The thought that somehow the Chantry...well not somehow of course.  As the Vinter and Laysian empires had prepared for their last battle, one which could have resulted in the destruction of both, the Chantry had brought them to the peace table.  Then later the Divine Giselle, using the fact the Chantry was responsible for most of both's social services, manoeuvred them both into agreeing that it was in the best interests of them both to abdicate.  Well, Rosamund mused, likely that agreement had been a pretty clever manipulation but the Maker works in ways most mysterious.  Her fingers danced and she could see the break down of population and tax income from the systems in more detail.  Extensive investment in industrial concerns on many of the colony worlds was smoothing out the income discrepancies that earlier reports had shown.  5 of the 11 worlds had incomes near to 300 MCr, a further 5 had incomes around 600 MCr and Niagra was now producing 2000 MCr.  A further 13 systems were colonised but their income and populations were still small.  Of course they all needed protection...which meant the Shield and Wardens...and that meant new construction and...  She sighed and her fingers cleared the displays from her glasses.  That meant more meetings, may the Maker bless them all.  Her attention returned to the council's debate into the start of construction on two deep space construction vessels.

The growth turn has been good for income but the last several turns and the next several turns looks to be:  build new survey ships, refit old survey ships, transport to the max of the CFN (more or less), built some PCFs, and spend money on IUs.  TL4 is now "average" so it isn't coming soon.  But all military ships have been refit and the final construction for the 3 new patrol squadrons is just finishing.  The yards need an expansion that is for sure.

The Chantry of Light Month 70

Starbridge Station, Lathandras Orbit, Thedas System

At last the critical technologies based on the basic research of the Circles leading Magi have reached deployment.  Laboratory research into Improved Survey Systems and an armed shuttle assault shuttle remain though the former is apparently nearing final approval.  The Shield and Pathfinders maintenance stands at 4170 MCr representing 38.3% of the Chantry's available tax base.  Ten systems now produce income sufficient to have internal commerce and Niagra has ~35% of the income of the Home system, and the next four systems in order of productivity add up to slightly more than that, so for the first time Home contributes less than 50% to the Chantry's total tax base.

The Shield's artificer staff have produced a full series of refits for the battle riders.

GRACE KNIFE R1 class CT           15 Hull    TL 3
[3] SSAZH(J)(J)QsXr(J)Kb+ [12]
15 RCP  10 MCP       Trg:1        Cost =  228.5/ 34.3
HTK 11   Sx2  Ax1  Kbx1 

With this refit the Grace Knife becomes what it was intended to be, a scout ship.  It is decided to maintain its 1st generation kinetic weapon to both keep costs down but to also allow the reusing of the systems.  Further the increased range of the improved system is compensated for by the higher speed of the ships that retain the older variant.

PEACEKEEPER R1 class FG        20 Hull    TL 3
[3] SSAAZH(BbS)M2(J)(J)(J)QsDk5(J)Kb+ [12]
20 RCP  5 MCP       Trg:3        Cost =  268/ 40.2
HTK 15   Sx2  Ax2  Dk5x1  Kbx1

As the Peacekeepers function as patrol leaders it was decided after much debate to forsake their laser emitter bay for additional targeting systems and a 1st generation kinetic interceptor system.  It was also decided to maintain the class with the older kinetic projector as was done with the Grace Knife's.   

FEARLESS R1 class DD           30 Hull    TL 3
[4] Sx3AAZH(J)(J)(J)L(J)Ki+LhQDk5(J)Ki+ [10]
30 RCP  20 MCP       Trg:1        Cost =  402/ 60.3
HTK 18   Sx3  Ax2  Dk5x1  Lx1  Kix2 

The refit to the Fearless incorporates both the new generation of kinetic weapondry but also an interceptor.  It is intended to produce a leader variant which will solve the current issue with insufficient targeting capacity or to begin using Swiftsures as Fearless leaders.

SWIFTSURE R2 class CL        45 Hull    TL 3
[4] Sx5AAZH(J)(BbM)(J)(J)(J)(J)L(J)Ki+M2(J)XrKi+LhQDk5(J)Ki+ [10]
45 RCP  5 MCP       Trg:3        Cost =  667.5/ 100.1
HTK 27   Sx5  Ax2  Dk5x1  Lx1  Kix3 

The second refit of the Swiftsure rounds out its firepower and defences.

This month a ship of each class but the Fearless enters the Starbridge's construction yards to start their refits.

Prepared by the Artificer class for prototyping is the next generation of heavy battle riders.

ENCHANTER class CA           60 Hull    TL 3
[4] Sx6Ax5ZH(J)Q(J)(BbM)(J)(J)L(J)L(J)Ki+(J)Ki+M2(J)Ki+XrLhQDk5(J)Ki+ [9]
60 RCP  40 MCP       Trg:3        Cost =  895/ 134.2
HTK 35   Sx6  Ax5  Dk5x1  Lx2  Kix4 

The Enchanter carries a quadruple kinetic rail system along it's spine coupled with a pair of laser emitter bays and an interceptor suite.  Two of these ships can be carried by a Dawnbringer and the Shield's initial plan is to build four Enchanters of which two will be operational and the second pair in mothballs.

The Pathfinder Flotillas will also be updated with the addition of a corvette sized survey vessel and in all likelyhood the number of ships per Flotilla will be revisited.