Upon arrival at the target star system, Trissk awakened without difficulty. When he had donned his harness and fluffed his mane to proper impressiveness, he entered Desolator’s spacious triangular command center, its “bridge” as the Humans termed it, though what it had to do with a roadway span across an obstacle, he was unsure.
Captain Chiren already sat on the elevated throne in the center, able to rotate to examine any of the three walls – forward, left and right – covered with screens, displays and telltales. “Eldest Trissk, welcome,” Desolator’s commander said, standing and walking down the steps to greet him formally.
Trissk appreciated the gesture; many of the Ryss aboard didn’t know him except by hearsay. His old mentor Chirom had told him that any good leader must appear to be approachable, striking the correct balance of superiority and humility to provide the illusion to any warrior that their commander was just like him – only better.
Releasing his brother warrior, Trissk gestured at the front wall screens. “May we see it?”
“I was waiting for you,” Chiren replied. “Desolator, please give us a view of our homeworld.”
“I am pleased to do so.” In front of them and the rest of the bridge crew, Desolator projected a two-story-high long-range optical view of a yellowish planet, its green seas balanced by the brown of its land area.
“Ryssa,” Trissk breathed, echoing the hisses of the Ryss around him. One Sekoi chuckled softly to herself. The Humans stared as well, though the planet lacked most of the blue of Earth.
“The population stands at over ten billion,” Chiren said with evident satisfaction, “though who knows what our people have become after nearly four hundred years of Meme rule.”
“They will need reminding.”
“They will need inspiring.”
A soft buzzing sounded. “Perhaps the captain and the Eldest should turn their attention to the strategic situation,” Desolator said. “The starboard wall screens, if you please.”
On the big screen, Trissk could see Ryssa’s star system mapped out in exquisite detail. Its sun resembled Earth’s, though smaller, and the homeworld and its moon orbited closer and faster than the Human’s planet, making each Ryss year shorter. One dead dry planet resided closer to the star, of no consequence to them now as Desolator had emerged far from it.
An asteroid belt and three gas giants completed the roster of planets, a compact stellar system that had allowed the Ryss to vault into space quickly and spread to other star systems using coldsleep technology, long before the younger Humans had gathered to build their first city.
“Where is the Guardian?” Trissk asked. Each Meme-controlled system possessed at least one enormous monitor to keep order among its Underlings, along with a varying number of Destroyers that acted as its mobile forces, cruising from star system to star system on decades-long voyages.
“I have located four such ships,” said Desolator. Icons lit up to mark their positions, all in the asteroid belt.
“Destroyers?”
“None detected so far.”
“That’s an unusual deployment,” Chiren said. “My first deduction would be that the Destroyers have been sent on a mission, and the usual single Guardian has split itself twice, to make four. Perhaps they continue to gorge themselves for more reproduction.”
“Perhaps they’ve gotten word of the Scourge,” Trissk replied. “Desolator, is this possible?”
“Yes, Elder. If the battles we know of were reported via electromagnetic signal, word could have reached them here several years ago.”
“So the Meme Empire is responding, though we don’t know its plans. And,” Trissk stalked back and forth in front of the screen, “without faster-than-light travel, they are fighting a losing battle, a defensive campaign of fortresses while the enemy can strike when and where they wish – and leap far into the rear areas.”
Chiren growled, contemplative. “Until we arrived here aboard Desolator, I never really felt in my bones how much trouble the Meme – or anyone without FTL drive – is in. Look at us. We have a ship mobile and powerful enough to destroy those Guardians without difficulty. Were this not our homeworld, we could devastate this system and leave with impunity to do it over and over again.” The captain folded his paws across his middle as he lounged in his command chair. “I no longer fear the Meme the way I once did.”
“Nor I. But the Scourge...I fear them on behalf of us all.” Trissk moved closer to the schematic. “Display detail of Ryssa and Charyss.” The latter was the name of its moon, smaller than Earth’s but large enough to perform its vital asteroid-sweeping function that allowed higher life to flourish. Without a large satellite to divert and intercept most rocks, cataclysmic extinction events would repeatedly pummel any ecosystem, wiping out the more complex species.
“I see seventeen heavy orbitals, which is an unusually high number, and several more being built. Does Charyss have Weapons?” Chiren asked.
Desolator replied, “We are too far for absolute confirmation, but the probability is high, based on my long-range scans. I suspect at least four installations, with two more under construction.”
“Soon six Weapons and more than twenty orbitals?” Chiren marveled. “The Meme are fortifying with great haste. Can they withstand a Scourge attack with these forces?”
“In my estimation, they can survive an attack similar to the ones on which we have data, especially with a mature population of more than ten billion Ryss on the ground to defend the planet.”
“Good news, then,” said Trissk.
“Perhaps not,” a Human voice from behind him said in passable Ryssan.
Turning, Trissk could not identify the speaker at first. All the apes looked more or less the same to him at first glance, though this one wore blazing yellow silk... “Nguyen?”
“The same. I always wanted to see your homeworld.”
“You turn up in the unlikeliest of places.”
“I go where I wish, Elder Trissk.”
“It’s Eldest now.”
“That should prove useful, then.” Spectre stepped forward to look at the big board. “Shall we begin negotiations?”
“Negotiations? We are here to liberate Ryssa, not ‘make a deal,’ as you apes would say.”
“Why can’t we do both?” Spectre took out a cigar and puffed it to life.
Chiren strode down the steps from his elevated chair. “Who is this Blend?”
“This is the one called Spectre, who was Spooky Nguyen before he Blended, and he is undoubtedly here to take a straightforward situation and twist it into knots,” Trissk replied.
The rest of the crew on the bridge stared at the three and their conversation with evident interest, but little trepidation. To most of them, Spooky Nguyen was merely the name of the founder of several Afranan corporations. Fewer recognized him for his military and covert exploits, and apparently none of the longer-lived Humans or Sekoi had known him personally, for there came no cries of surprise or greeting.
Spectre merely smiled at Trissk’s characterization. “I’m sure you would like to conduct some glorious battle of liberation here, but do you really want to attack and destroy the very Meme ships guarding your people?”
“I am not a fool, Nguyen. My intent is to destroy only one Guardian, quickly and spectacularly, to cow the others into accepting our terms. How else will they believe in our prowess?”
“And if they will accept our terms without eliminating valuable military materiel, what then?”
Trissk stared at Spectre for a long moment, saying nothing. Eventually, Chiren spoke. “I for one can forego revenge upon the Meme...for now. Spectre is right, Eldest. We need every Guardian, every orbital, to defend our people.”
“Are they even our people anymore?” Trissk mused, turning away. “I saw how different the Earther underlings are from the Fleet personnel I know. Many lost their honor and discipline under the misrule of Meme and Blend. They had to be hunted down and executed like beasts. Is that what we face when we take our planet back?”
“Kill that prey when you see it, Trissk,” Spectre replied. “For now, our goal should be to convince the Meme here that the alliance forged by Earth’s SystemLord is the right move. Without orders from their Empire, they’ll need more than a good scare to join us. Otherwise, they may simply run and leave Ryssa to its fate.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Trissk asked.
“Desolator plus four Guardians would secure the system much more effectively than Desolator alone. Also, every time we make allies of the Meme, we gain cost-free defensive forces, allowing our thinly stretched FTL ships to be elsewhere.” Spectre continued to puff on his cigar.
“The Human is right, brother,” Chiren said. “I read a book of theirs by a sage called Sun Tzu. He contended that to win without fighting was the acme of military prowess.”
“What honor is there in winning without fighting?”
“What honor is there in losing the war because we lust too much for battle?”
Desolator broke in. “From what we know, the Scourge control, at a minimum, tens of thousands of systems. They do not seem a race fond of negotiation, so we will have to kill them by the trillions. I believe we shall have our fill of battle.”
“Yes, so much battle even a Ryss might tire of it,” Spectre said. “Every non-Scourge race and star system must be viewed as a potential ally, be they Meme or Underling. And, if the Meme will not see reason in any particular place, the best we can do is give them data on our common enemy and leave them to their fates.”
“Here? On our homeworld?” Trissk hissed.
Spectre nodded. “Even here. Your people have lived for four hundred years under the Meme. It won’t harm them to stay there a bit longer if it strengthens their odds of survival.”
“All this is speculation until we make contact with the SystemLord here,” Desolator observed.
“Until I make contact,” Spectre replied.
“You?” Chiren asked.
“Why else do you think I came along?”
“We have Sekoi Blends aboard if direct negotiations are necessary,” Trissk said.
“None of them have seen what I’ve seen, and none of them brings word directly from Earth’s Emperor.” Spectre dropped the butt of his cigar and ground it out on the deck. “Now, may I borrow a pinnace?”