First Leader Grandous had a visitor in his office, located in the House of Governance on Comensal Prime. It was the Chief of Naval Operations, Prime Admiral Lotmas, and what he told Grandous was of such importance it had to be done in person. “It has been confirmed, First Leader,” said Lotmas. “We’ve lost contact with the Eletoshani system. Enemy forces had entered the connecting Porch system via a previously unknown closed warp point. The scanner and comm buoys at the warp point leading out of the Porch system detected small craft drive signatures consistent with that of Commonwealth pinnaces. It is believed the buoys were destroyed by the Commonwealth’s new pinnace type, but the reusable drones were unable to recycle in time to launch and give us positive confirmation.”

      Grandous looked at the veteran officer for a moment and then to the display built into the top of his desk, taking in the sector map with the Eletoshani system at the center. Lotmas got the impression the Grand Leader regarded the display as if it was a fresh corpse. “Have appropriate contingency measures been instituted?”

      “Yes, First Leader. Admiral Hovwen is acting on contingency orders and will be rallying her forces in the next inhabited system in the warp chain leading to Eletoshani. Thankfully the convoy containing the prefabricated components of six type-5 bases enroute to Hovwen had turned back and is now heading to her new position and will commence assembly of the bases.”

      Perhaps unconsciously, Grandous placed a finger over the icon representing Eletoshani, obscuring it from view. “With this new incursion it is imperative we resume offensive action and obtain operational momentum,” he finally said after a long pause. “Lotmas, assemble the Operations Board at the Naval Administration Building. I will attend in an hour and discuss which among the available options are viable.”

     “As you command, First Leader.”

     After Lotmas left the room Grandous got up and walked to the window overlooking the capital city. He appreciated the majestic monuments to Comensal achievement, from the establishment of civilization to symbols of victory over abomination races. Then came the trophies lining the walls of the office, from the Lauset flag that flew over the capital of that race’s homeworld to a fragment of the central coordination core of the Nu’Chut AIs. There was a trophy from the conquest of the Eletoshani, but Grandous’ eye was drawn to a gift received by a previous First Leader 40 years earlier from the first Comensal governor of Eletoshani Prime. It was a clock covered with an intricately carved wooden façade, created by an abom Eleto craftsmith. Grandous was of a mind to remove the clock, but it would be perceived as an indirect admission of defeat. He glared at the ornate timepiece for a minute, all the while going over a mental checklist that, had it been made of paper, would have shown signs of wear along the edges.

     The ongoing industrial infrastructure investment has boosted the economy, as well as funding the increased R&D for reverse-engineering of observed new enemy weapons. Squadrons of new ships continue to flow to the front lines, and fortifications at crucial chokepoints behind those lines, which were started at the beginning of the war, were strengthening. It was the lack of open warp points in Axis territory that presented a daunting challenge. The offensive had to be done at one or more points of contact. Grandous gave the abom-made clock one final look before leaving. Time, it was all a matter of time.

Segment Admiral Calixto, commanding Strike Fleet in the occupied Axis system of Bandstand, was giving endorsements for promotions in her flagship’s day cabin when her work was interrupted. Thanks to an extensive sensor buoy network in Bandstand the existence of a previously unknown closed warp point was announced. Calixto went to her CIC, waiting for the next hour as the contact resolved into five, remaining motionless two light-hours out from the primary. Two hours after that a coded transmission was received, sent via a tight-beam radio signal to a com buoy amid the sensor buoy net that only Hokum forces would know about. Upon deciphering, the five contacts were identified as ships belonging to Lord Admiral Jocelin’s Frontier Fleet. With that confirmation a pre-arranged protocol was invoked, leaving Calixto preparing for guests.

     Three days later Frontier Fleet entered Bandstand, rendezvousing with Strike Fleet at a gas giant halfway between Bandstand Prime and the closed warp point. As the junior officer Calixto received Jocelin aboard her flagship. As requested by Jocelin, there was minimal fanfare instead of a more elaborate greeting involving a Marine honor guard. Introductions done, Calixto guided her guest directly to the CIC while the staffs of both admirals held a separate, virtual conference in their respective wardrooms.

     The central holoimager in the CIC was prepared in advance, so Calixto went into her presentation as Jocelin stood by. The imager displayed a map of warp connections centered on Bandstand, radiating outwards. “Given what we know, it appears we’ve ran out of routes of advance into Axis space,” Calixto said as she used a light wand to manipulate the map. “The Axis system of Battlement is five transits out, occupied by the Commonwealth, and in turn leads to the Kerama Retto system and finally to Citadel. All systems beyond Citadel are under Commowealth control.” The map changed to display Commonwealth-controlled systems and warp lines. “Our allies have three routes into Axis space; Data Disk, Gymnasium, and Porch, which connects to the Eletoshani home system. The Axis has revealed two closed warp points in the Kerama Retto system, but as of now our allies have only been able to reinforce the repair anchorage they’ve established there, waiting to build a substantial force with which to probe said warp points. They believe one if not more unknown closed warp points are in that system.”

     Jocelin tugged on the hem of his vest, his eyes drinking in the display. “The Terpla’ns have a full plate, and we’ve only had that pesty raider group in the Com Pocket that will run out of supplies in due time as they’re cut off from reinforcement. Both our intelligence officers had been chewing on the same data provided by the Intelligence Board.” He looked at the junior admiral. “The fleet the Axis sent to reclaim their territory, and failed in the assault of the Cain system, couldn’t have been based in their Iron Sky system. The infrastructure was inadequate.”

     Calixto made a sign of agreement, both back pair of hands open with palms outward. “They certainly didn’t come through the remaining warp point in Battlement, running into the Commonwealth fleet in the process. As for the fleet you mentioned, it came through the Com-33 warp point leading to Com-30, with Iron Sky right next door. And we did capture the system data on Com-33.” She manipulated the hologram to show the warp connection between Bandstand, Com-35, Com-33, and Com-30. The icon for Com-35 blinked red, indicating that the data was acquired by survey and not through a captured database.

     “I’m sure the Presidio will venture the same guess we’re about to make, Calixto. The Axis very well may have entered former Nu’Chut space via Battlement or even Kerama Retto. However, we have no captured data on Com-35. It is within the realm of possibility that a close warp point is in Com-35, and the Axis used that as an access point to reclaim the warp chain leading all the way back to Cain.”

     The holo map reverted with the Bandstand icon in the center, with all warp links radiating five systems out. Calixto pointed to the Bandstand icon with her light wand. “With Eletoshani in allied hands, Sir, the AFC will respond soon. That the AFC hadn’t used the closed warp point here to reclaim Bandstand may indicate they planned to recover this system via Battlement or the slightly longer connection from Kerama Retto.”

     “It’s likely they will perform a ‘spasm’ attack plan, like they did to the Eleto and Nu’Chut AIs, when they had multiple routes into their territories,” Jocelin observed. Like all the other admirals he read translated copies of captured AFC historical operational texts. He found the information useful despite being laden with puffy prose of self-righteousness. “Had there been a com buoy chain in Com-35 then the Axis removed it. Also, your own forces found no buoy chain leading up to closed warp point here in Bandstand. Most importantly, we were unable to fully break the encryption of databases captured in Bandstand and in Iron Sky. The location of that close warp point could very well have been in that encrypted data. We need to place a comprehensive sensor buoy net in Com-35 as soon as possible.”

     Calixto displayed the system layout of Com-35 in the holoimager. The two open warp points were directly opposite of each other, separated by 150 light-minutes. She touched each warp point icon with her light wand for emphasis. “Our staff logistic officers have confirmed that we have enough scanner buoys in our freighters for two concentric sensor buoy rings for each warp point. Diameters of 24 and 60 light minutes respectively, and enough com buoys to pass on information to ships stationed at the warp points. The disposition of our two fleets will make the Presidio’s orders a most anticipated item.”

     “Until then, Calixto, we will proceed with the sensor net in Com-35. An escort flotilla will accompany the freighters, and our fleets will hold station one light-minute from the Com-35 warp point in the meantime.” Jocelin glanced at the time display on the holoimager panel. “We’ll finish this conversation with a working lunch in your day cabin. I may have forgone the usual ceremony reserved for a visiting senior officer, but I won’t pass up the traditional meal. Also, I learned that your chef is top notch and worked at a highly recommended restaurant before his reserve status was invoked. I’m interested in what he can whip up with what passes for food aboard ship.”

     Calixto chuckled. It wasn’t a secret that food service aboard her flagship was appreciably better than could be expected. She thanked her captain in getting the chef in question due to his contacts in the Bureau of Personnel, and the fact that he commanded the flagship went a long way in securing that chef. It was a shame that the culinary arts in the ISN was still struggling even after all other shipboard divisions met the demands of war. For over 300 years the ISN fought no wars, and exercises were held over a matter of weeks, not months. As a result, the quality of food preparation aboard ship was ‘acceptable’ and that chefs were seen more as caretakers of the industrial microwave ovens that heated prepackaged ‘bricks’ charitably called food. The chefs on fleet freighters, which were contracted civilians, were noted to be two or three steps above the regular fleet counterparts. Morale could only improve if the food did, and right then and there Calixto resolved to plant the idea into Emperor Valsur’s ear in her next report. “Ah yes, Sir. The ship’s chef can work miracles.”

     As part of protocol the lunch was plated on serviceware reserved for important occasions. Living up to his reputation, the chef did perform a miracle easily attributed to the Goddess of the Harvest and Home. Jocelin obviously enjoyed the thorough mix of prairie cat meat and fresh, marinated vegetables. Between bites, the two admirals talked. “What really concerns me,” said Jocelin, “is what’s on the other side of the closed warp point in Com-35. They had years, if not decades following the Nu’Chut War, to fortify the connecting system. They didn’t avail themselves to fort up the Com-30/Geode warp point when they had the ample opportunity to do so, and that tells me Com-35 served as their defensive bulwark.”

     Calixto wiped her mouth with a napkin, using her back right hand as proper dining etiquette required. “So far we’ve been fortunate to employ missile pods against Axis fortifications that were unable to forward that information. If it turns out that the system connected to Com-35 is heavily fortified then the Presidio, and even the Emperor himself, will instruct us to use those pods to lessen casualties.”

     “Specifically armed pinnace crew casualties, Calixto. I’m not defending it, but the heavy loss of those pinnace crews roughly equals one or two assault carriers in a typical assault.” Jocelin looked taciturn as he probed a particularly succulent strip of prairie cat meat. “So far the Axis has either hasn’t reach its pain point where it would research something that would supplement their own armed pinnace mass transit attacks or is so enraptured with its own technological dogma that it would have to witness pods in action and get that information back where it can create its own version.”

     “For me, Sir, my concern is when they’ll field their own copy of the anti-fighter missile, along with advanced point defense systems.” Calixto shrugged with her front pair of shoulders. “As for pods, we’ve already employed wide and thin minefields to cause attritional losses for Axis pinnace assaults. But I hazard the guess that if our Commonwealth allies developed pods, they will use them at the first opportunity.”

     “You’re right, Calixto. They suffered far more casualties, and were willing to sustain them, but I suspect even they feel the need to reduce armed pinnace losses. With Eletoshani liberated there’s going to be the need to sustain the operational momentum, pushing the Axis on their back feet. Even with missile pods the next set of battles will be…” Jocelin jabbed his fork at the strip of meat on his plate like a spear fisherman, “more deadly.”

Camp Lazlo, the primary military complex for the Imperium Space Army on the Axis world of Crimson Expanse, had taken the appearance of a typical Army base back in Hokum territory. Three years have passed since the first tent stake was planted, but now all the buildings were prefab construction with only the permanent hospital, headquarters, and the motor pools being constructed on site with plasticrete. Currently inside those motor pools were the vehicles of the 31st Tactical Armor Regiment. The Regiment has fulfilled its deployment tour and was going home to Hokum to resume normal reserve status. The personnel were eager to get back to their families. This was true for the crew of a Mongoose tactical armored vehicle named Loaded Vice. They were preparing their vehicle for boarding a troop transport, a process that involved removing certain items to make the vehicle suitable for the ensuing voyage.

     Furdex, the commander of Loaded Vice, was going through a checklist on a datapad. “Spuran,” he said into his headset microphone, “have the initiators for the 30mm and 7mm gauss guns been removed?”

     The gunner of the vehicle poked his head and back pair of hands out of the turret hatch. In each of the hands was a key component of the guns that, if removed, prevented them from firing. “Got’em, Sarge. I’ll unload the smoke dischargers on the turret next.”

     Furdex nodded, then motioned to a motor pool tech to fetch and store the initiators. “Pendex, how about the mortar?”

     Loaded Vice's driver came into view from the front of the vehicle. "I removed the breach block from the 50mm." He displayed the piece of hardware with his front left hand. "The safeties for the point defense strips are enabled, and I'll uninstall those strips next."

     Going down the list, Furdex called for Licus, Vice’s communications and sensors operator. “Licus, status on your console?”

     “All the important cards have been pulled, Sarge,” Licus said on her headset. “Just the FM comm is enabled with no datalink capabilities at all. Just enough for us for our short trip to the transport.”

     Loaded Vice, after the battle of Copper Medic several months ago, had its extensive damage repaired. Aside from equipment removed to meet regulations for long-term ship transit the Vice looked fit for regimental inspection. The crew were recognized for their bravery in recovering the occupants of a Weasel tactical utility vehicle during that battle, and though unspoken, were most likely to receive the Emperor’s Thanks in person back on Hokum. It was an honor that carried a weight that medals couldn’t match, and only fools would besmirch that honor when the Emperor can be called upon for a favor. Furdex gave an absent approving nod at his crew’s handiwork before resuming with his checklist.

     “Hey, Sarge,” said Licus over the comm. “I understand the need for removing ammo, the point defense strips, and even key parts of the weapons for the trip back home on the transport, but why are they going to remove the power pack once we’re on board? They’re going to lift Vice just high enough off the deck so the tires don’t make contact. Besides, if there’s a fire due to a malfunctioning power pack, they’ll just vent the deck to space and even eject the affected vehicle if necessary.”

     Furdex thought for a moment. “Well, that’s what they did, several centuries ago when power pack tech wasn’t as mature as it is now. They were integral gear, not swappable like they are now. The packs can be stored separately, and even in the remote chance one does catch fire it can be vented to vacuum or even ejected without losing a vehicle in the process.”

     Pendex’s familiar hum came before his words. “I imagine, Sarge, it must’ve been a common occurrence during the Civil War period. In history class it was said that a fair number of soldiers were killed and wounded when the armored vehicles of that time often caught fire in the holds of transports, most of them being attributed to fast, shoddy construction practices.”

     “You certainly can’t say that about our Vice, Pendex. After the Civil War the manufacturers were held to account and had to make Mongooses that didn’t burn at the slightest provocation. It was the power packs, and after some tinkering, they were made as safe as the Five Gods allowed them to be. The rail installation system was introduced at the same time. It wasn’t until an incident 200 years ago that led to the current policy of removing them during long-term ship transits. That incident involved a Mongoose that almost destroyed a Troubadour transport from the inside.”

     There was a collective sense of interest that somehow made its presence known over the comm channel. “Never heard about it, Sarge,” said Pendex. “I guess it’s something that doesn’t want to be common knowledge.”

     “That is correct, Pendex. I heard about it from the chief of this motor pool during a card game. His ancestor was the chief maintenance NCO of the regiment involved. That regiment took part in a three-month exercise in the Baserock Badlands on Golden Harp, two months of that was in field during the winter.”

     “I’ve been to that place, Sarge,” offered Spuran. “A family vacation when I was younger. Cold, damp, and frequent fog and mist. The only thing that made it worthwhile was the sunrises.”

     “A fact that probably wasn’t lost on the regiment. Anyway, the regiment completed the exercise, loaded up on the transport, and headed back to Hokum, a month-long trip so that the troops can decompress. Well, some of them found their own way to relax as they had somehow acquired some ‘local herbs and spices.’ One Mongoose driver, tripping the light fantastic and probably urged on by the God of Sports and Holidays, decided to have some fun. He got to the hold, did some work on the main internal hatch, persuaded the security guard in allowing access to a Mongoose to retrieve some personal gear, and then got into his ride and juiced it up, breaking free from the restraints and did three circuits around the hold.”

      Ferdex paused for a moment as he signed off on gear being handed over to a motor pool tech. “If you don’t know, the early Troubadours were civilian transports that received just the minimum of work to handle troops and their gear. Because of that, there were no major alterations to their interiors, including the large central passageway that ran most of the length of the ship. So, our herb stoked driver decided to find the onramp to Highway One. After the third lap he went down that central passage with the pedal pushed all the way down like any proper leadfoot. Care to guess what was at the end of that passageway?”

      “I’d say it was the ship’s bridge.” Licus sounded confident of her conclusion. “I recall an exploded view of a Troubadour’s interior in a databook about ships of the ISN.”

     “Must’ve been an early edition, Licus, but yes, you’re right. The Mongoose rammed the hatch and busted in. Half of the bridge crew were wounded and three killed as the Mongoose came to rest right in the middle of the helm station. Thankfully the ancestor of that motor pool chief I mentioned tripped the safety for the power pack and the ship was able to continue using its auxiliary control station in engineering. And that, my students, led to the policy of removing power packs for voyages over two weeks in length. Also, all Troubadours were refitted as time went by to have their bridges relocated two decks higher and all new ones were built to that standard. Along with that Troubadours used for army exercises were manned by naval instead of civilian crews and had Marines on guard duty.”

     Spuran harumphed over the comm channel. “I guess it’s a good thing that we’re going back home on that new class of transport. Twice the tonnage of a Troubadour and a lot more amenities, not to mention actual food instead of those microwave bricks. There’s also the benefits of the cultural exchange program, watching video entertainment from Commonwealth races.”

      “I wonder what they’ll think of our operas,” said Licus, “especially those about the Five Gods. The Harvest Festival on the Full Moon is essentially a three-hour dinner involving deities arguing on what to give to their mortal worshippers.”

     Pendex’s smile could practically be heard as he spoke into his mic. “I, for one, won’t envy them. I have it on good authority that were getting the follow up to the E’sani Planet of the Khanates series, appropriately titled Return to the Planet of the Khanates.”

     Licus came out from the back hatch of the Loaded Vice, handing over several comm board components to the motor pool tech. “Those E’sani are rather big, and with equally big single pair of arms to match. They made extensive use of practical effects with Minimal amount of computer generated imagery, and those animatronic masks they wear to represent the Khanate are quite convincing.”

     Ferdex looked at the biolume watch face he had tattooed into his left back wrist. “They should be finished offloading the fresh regiment in an hour. They’ll want us to get aboard as soon as possible and lift off by dawn tomorrow. The big brass is concerned the Comensal colonists may launch an attack to destroy the ship using backpack nukes while it’s still on the ground, minefields and gunpits be damned.”

     “So true, Sarge,” replied Spuran as he removed an inert defense strip. “The 30^th Regiment found a pair of thankfully faulty pack nukes at that grain silo in Tall Gate.” He snapped his right-rear fingers. “Oh, what’s the name of the race the E’sani portray in Khanates?”

     “It’s actually several very closely related races,” said Licus. “Collectively they’re called Apes.”

Chapter 8.25

Tebes Norsencu took a deep breath of the foggy valley air. The valley was on Evergreen, the second habitable world in the Eletoshani system. The last time he took such a breath was decades ago, when he was going to Eleto to attend university for business administration. It was the plan that he would inherit the family wine business, but then the war with the Axis occurred, and in the intervening 40 plus years he held onto the hope of reclaiming his family’s land.

     The wind shifted, and the smell of burning wood and processed materials brought Tebes to full awareness. His four eyestalks swiveled towards a distant part of the valley; the fog lifting in the morning light. The fires were still going, consuming structures built by Comensal colonists on the foundations of what was once Tebes’ family home and vineyard buildings. Thankfully the vineyards were untouched. Tebes made sure the asset reclamation platoon assigned to him left those plants alone. A chime over the communicator he wore had him acknowledge the sender, and after a brief conversation he started his walk down the road towards the vineyards. He kept the grip on the rifle held in his left pair of hands. Fighting on Evergreen has shown that Comensal colonists’ proclivity of having camouflaged mini-bunkers in rural areas. A pattern was discerned in their placement after three weeks of fighting, and the platoon leader was confident he found them all. That still left boneheads hiding in ditches with camo cloaks, but that was neither here nor there. Tebes accepted the random chances offered by war.

     Memories crouched behind his four eyes as he came closer to the burning ruins. The fall harvest of the grapes, the smell of fermentation and processing, application of labels and signature seals made by his parents and grandparents. He also remembered the scolding for eating grapes meant for the vats. Still, the taste lingered in his memories to the extent that his tongues itched in response. He shook off the recollective haze and looked around.

     The platoon was surveying the grounds for any underground shelters that might be present. Equipped with ground penetrating radar backpacks and thermal rods, the assigned troops were methodical, so Tebes left them to their work. He hadn’t seen the whole of the homestead during the fighting, and he was told that he had a visitor waiting for him at the base of the now wrecked windmill. He found him, and the distinctive tuff of hair on the top of the head confirmed that it was Nisecu Lake, former resistance leader and a rising star in the post-liberation political environment. He was apparently studying what appeared to be a pile of bricks at the base of the windmill. Lake turned upon hearing Tebes’ footfalls.

     Tebes lowered his front pair of eyestalks briefly in a gesture of acknowledgment. “Good morning, Mr. Lake. Your presence is unexpected, but hopefully it is under pleasant circumstances.”

     “Good morning. Hopefully the end of this conversation will be a pleasant one. I’ve been informed and have seen the work of the platoon in the reclamation effort.” Lake’s eyes swiveled on their stalks. He took in the scenery for perhaps the tenth time since arriving, but it felt that he was experiencing it for the first time. “Very much like my family’s vineyard on the southwest continent. Like you, I was destined to inherit my family’s vineyard and wine business. In my case, after spending decades being a lawyer. I was able to use that training in the reclamation of my family’s property from the Comensal colonial squatters.”

     An involuntary smile appeared on Tebes’ left mouth. “Mr. Lake, the Comensal, the boneheads that they are, would not acknowledge the laws and legal procedures of ‘abominations’.”

    “Ah, but procedure has to be followed,” Lake said in a light manner. “I delivered the signed notification of eviction in a hollow grenade fired from the launcher I had with me. The grenade was designed break open on impact, and I even went through the trouble of having the document translated into Comensal Common. Their return fire a few moments later informed me of their non-compliance of the eviction order.”

     The back pair of Tebes’ eyes winced, a polite form of dismissal. “I’m not partial to such shenanigans, Mr. Lake. Every moment the boneheads were on my property was one moment too many.”

     Lake lowered his front pair of eyes in acknowledgement. “A view shared by everyone else on Evergreen that are doing what me and you have already done. Over 1,000 people will reclaim farms, ranches, orchards, mines and other properties. More will follow, but practically unique among them is your property, Mr. Norsencu. We’ve come upon some interesting Comensal records.” He motioned towards the bricks. “Take a good look.”

     Upon inspection Tebes saw that it wasn’t a pile but a short column of bricks with a plaque affixed to the top of it at a forty-five-degree angle. Then he noticed the appearance of the bricks, going over to them and touching them like an appraiser assessing the value of an antique. “I… I remember. When I was ten, I helped my grandparents when they redid the patio on the north side of the house. I remember because the bricks were fresh and were still rough on the sides when they came out of the molds when they cooled. But this wasn’t here when I left for university all those years ago.”

     Lake went to Tebes’ side. “The writing on the plaque is in Comensal. Translated, it is a memorial for the Comensal Army soldiers that died in taking this place.”

     Tebes turned his left front eye to this guest. “Given who they are, would such memorials be commonplace everywhere on this planet?”

     “Surprisingly no, Mr. Norsencu. They prefer just a few, grandiose moments to victory. Your property is different. No less than 44 Comensal soldiers were killed with 25 wounded. Your parents and grandparents had put up such a fight that the boneheads had to call in an airstrike followed by flamerthrower mobiles. The records mentioned the soldiers were disappointed that the bodies were so thoroughly destroyed that they couldn’t be claimed as trophies. All they could do was make this small monument from the remains of your home.” Though he didn’t hear it, Lake sensed that Tebes stiffened up as he processed what he just heard. The response came after a long pause.

     “Give me moment, Mr. Lake.”

     Lake turned away and kept his four eyes looking forward. He marshaled his thoughts on other matters, but they all came down to the same thing. Even without enemy memorials to fixate their hate upon the other returnees were coming to grips on the fate of their families and kin left behind on Evergreen all those years ago. He had his own moment when inspecting the site of his family’s home. That time spent in the wine cellar, the only thing left intact, would stay with him forever.

     “I’m done,” said Tebes, prompting Lake to turn about. He saw Tebes present his front pair of hands with palms out. They were cut and bleeding, and Lake saw the corner bricks on the monument that Tebes gripped hard enough to inflict those injuries. “It’ll take years, but I’m young enough to see through the rebuilding and restarting of my family business.”

     “With our people having an average lifespan of 200 years you can rightfully call yourself young, Mr. Norsencu.” Lake opened the first aid kit he had with him and tended to Tebes’ wounds. “I, too, am young enough to endure a few more years as I restore my family’s home. With that, I ask you to consider becoming a part of Evergreen’s provisional government.”

     Tebes was flabbergasted as indicated by both mouths working for a moment with no words coming. “Me?” he said hesitantly. “I’m not exactly made for government.”

     “I beg to differ.” Lake inspected his medicinal work before putting away the first aid kit. “You kept to your studies and even started your own small business on Eleto, selling glassware. You became part of the chamber of commerce in the city you lived in, being an active participant. When the ASP conducted their raids on businesses suspected of supporting the resistance you helped them to rebuild. And then there is your work in the resistance.” Lake raised a pair of forestalling hands. “Let me explain. Due to circumstances of history my involvement in the resistance has become known, and I’ve become the public face of it.”

     “No doubt helping you in the political arena and public opinion,” Tebes said as he gingerly tested the bandages applied by Lake by opening and closing his hands. “I aspire no higher service.”

     “True, but what was found in the captured Comensal records here on Evergreen will be made a matter of public record, before wild rumors take hold in the collective imagination. I have only recently learned of what happened here during the Comensal invasion of Evergreen. It was best for me to inform you before some journalist did and thus will be better prepared to answer questions. The other returnees will naturally gravitate to you due to your family’s toll they inflicted on the boneheads.”

     Tebes’ left-side eyestalks turned to give what some would call ‘the side eyes’ at Lake. “You really think I’m cut for public service?”

     Lake looked past the windmill towards the distant end of the valley. Tebes got the sense he was looking back into the past as much as taking in the scenery. “The individuals in government present when we lost the war over 40 years ago were the same ones that remained in power during the occupation. Yes, there were elections, but it was more like a game of musical chairs writ large. The boneheads played a part in that, implying any radical shift in governance will entail special sanctions. Also, our people had the opinion that anyone new will just follow the status quo and not do anything that would attract attention. Now that has changed. The current government is old; some of them are even 140 years old and are tired. It was made clear to me that the younger generations will take their place, being better able to navigate the new opportunities and face fresh challenges with far more vigor and righteousness. I believe you are such a person.”

     A prolonged moment of silence followed. Tebes mulled over what Lake said like it was test question in a final exam. He weighed the variables in his mind like they were samples in a lab, trying to find a balance. He looked at Lake. “I can’t give you an answer now, but I will have one sooner than later.”

     “Take your time, that’s all I ask.” Lake pointed to the Comensal monument with the disdain of highlighting a garbage pile. “Have you at least decided what to do with that?”

     Tebes also appraised the monument with a level of disgust reserved for a badly written term paper. “The bricks will stay, and I’ll affix my own plaque atop of it. As for the bonehead plaque…” he paused, eying the words on the plaque with justified hate, “I will follow what I learned in history classes, when a victorious ancient army took over an enemy town. After me and the platoon thoroughly desecrate the bonehead plaque, I will have it dropped into a volcano’s active caldera. There are two of them on this continent. I will not have it buried or thrown into an ocean. Only volcanic fire can insure its complete destruction. Also, ancient rites will be performed to banish Comensal spirits from haunting this valley. One must be thorough in desecrating the enemy.”

     “As it should be, Mr. Norsencu. Since I’m here, I might as well lend you a hand. Let’s see if your family’s wine cellar still exists.”

     “Thank you, Mr. Lake. Between the two of us we should be able to clear the debris from the stairs before evening.”

On Hokum Prime there was a very private meeting in the Presidio. In attendance was Emperor Valsur. With him was Conovus, Imperator of the Navy. His uniform tunic was immaculate as usual. The Director of Naval Intelligence, Maya, affected a pair of archaic reading glasses, lending her short-furred face the look of a no-nonsense test proctor. As for the final attendee, it was Lord Admiral Janus, former commander of the Expeditionary Fleet and now a member of the Joint Allied Coordination Council (JACC). It only just occurred to Janus that she sat directly across from Valsur, and she was directed to that seat by an aide. It was a deliberate choice, and Jansu didn’t know whether to be honored or apprehensive.

     “Let me start by saying,” intoned Valsur in a stately voice, “that we received word regarding the Eletoshani. They have given Commonwealth representatives a partial astrogation database that will allow the fleet under the command of Admiral Jki to reach Eleto faster and invest the system leading into Porch, giving the Commonwealth fleet already there reinforcement. The Eletoshani will release the rest of the astrogation database upon a signed treaty recognizing their pre-Axis War territory.”

     Conovus rubbed his chin. “My Lord, it must be taken as a given that the Axis will work under the reasonable assumption that any astrogation data related to Eleto territory was compromised. Knowing the routes leading to where the Axis initially contacted the Eleto decades ago will be helpful. Did they indicate if they have anything in the way of military data, such as defenses and comm buoy chains?”

     Valsur brooded for a moment. “They’ve indicated that the database is only from their pre-war files, and, despite their acumen in breaking into Axis databases they only have fragments and mentions of Axis defensive dispositions in their territory. They did, however, mention that several of their former colony systems are cul-du-sac in nature and thus can be isolated pending proper assaults.”

     “My Lord, are we prepared to accept their offer?” Janus said this, as it was the unspoken rule that the lowest ranking officer present speaks the quiet part out loud.

     “Yes,” Valsur said with the solidity of a block of marble. “I have sent instruction to the liaison officer accompanying Jki’s fleet to accept the offer and sign the agreement on the behalf of the Imperium. A formal ambassadorial team won’t reach Eleto for months, but they’ll just place window dressing on a done deal.” He then looked at Maya. “I’ll have you know that, in a dispatch I received two days ago, the Eleto have categorially stated they’ll recover those planets and hostile environment colonies with their own ground forces and ‘supporting’ elements. They also mentioned they’ll be active participants in this war beyond ground combat and will build warships for the front lines.”

     Maya removed her glasses so that the seriousness on her face was clear to see. “By ‘supporting’ elements that means kinetic and nuclear bombardment, my Lord,” she said flatly. “We can all understand the Eleto’s experience with the Comensal, which was also experienced by the Uan and the Hamthen. If we and the Commonwealth are the vanguard behind which the Eleto enact a genocide beyond their home system then there should be an explicit understanding at a minimum, or a comprehensive agreement at best that deliberate mass slaughter of Comensal civilians be avoid for an indefinite period.”

     Valsur noted how Maya included ‘beyond their home system’ in her statement. Axis records boasted of their extermination of Eleto colonies on exhaustive army campaigns and how new cities and homes were built upon former Eleto foundations. Not even the Five Gods would deny the Eleto their vengeance. But it would not do being seen looking the other way while the Eleto exacted their vengeance in systems paid for by Allied, and especially Hokum, blood. “You have a point, Maya. A certified agreement to prohibit deliberate attacks on non-resisting Comensal civilian populations by all involved parties is in order. I will have our Foreign Office draw up the suggestion and emphasize that it becomes a condition to the official recognition of the Eleto pre-war territorial sovereignty.”

     Maya nodded. “A sensible request until a universal policy regarding captured Comensal populations is in place, my Lord.” She noted the conditional wording Valsur used. The Hokum had only landed troops on Crimson Expanse and, like the Commonwealth and its allies found out, Comensal civilians eventually took up mass resistance in which everyone took part. Because of that result the Hokum didn’t land occupation troops on any other populated Comensal world, being content with conducting the occasional kinetic strike on heavy industrial sites and suspected material stockpiles. Even the Commonwealth ended up doing the same, though they kept troops on those planets and hostile environment colonies they’d already conquered earlier in the war.

     “I’m sure that the Eleto will comply, if only to be practical due to their circumstances.” Valsur kept to his stately voice. “Now for the other reason I’ve gathered you three here, though two of you already know. This information only came three hours ago, and it regards the Tire Iron system.” The mention of Tire Iron perked up Janus’ ears, electing the response Valsur was expecting. “Conovus will give a concise rundown of what happened.”

     The older Hokum waited a moment to achieve the composure he wanted. “As you know we were informed a week ago that the Commonwealth was going to eliminate the bases guarding the Bedrock side of the Bedrock/Tire Iron warp point. Even though the bases were out of supply for over a year it was considered by Naval Intelligence that giving them another year to further deteriorate would’ve served the Commonwealth better. A moderately-sized convoy from the Commonwealth had reached the Tire Iron side of the warp point, apparently waiting for word to be sent by the comm-buoy chain connecting Tire Iron to Bedrock via our network of connecting systems to make transit.

     “Six of the freighters had unusual numbers of freighter tractor beams and used them to deploy what turned out to be missile pods.” Hearing that made Janus’ ears twitch like a child hearing a bag of cookies open. “The pods, 1800 in number, transited, and doubtlessly the Commonwealth ships followed them not too long after. As our Lord said we only got this information three hours ago, directly from our ships escorting that convoy. Given the distance involved the convoy like has made transit into Bedrock by now.”

     Valsur looked at Janus as if he was a teacher selecting a student to answer a question in front of a class. “Admiral, on first impression, what do you conclude from this development?”

     “There are several conclusions, My Lord,” Janus heard herself say in a voice fit for a promotion board. “With the destruction of the Bedrock warp point bases the Commonwealth now has a shorter route to their forces in Gymnasium. They used what they considered to be an adequate number of pods. It is reasonable to think they have many more pods in inventory; no doubt enroute to other active points of contact.” She paused for a moment, prompted by Valsur’s crooked finger to continue. “It can be seen as an overt display of their industrial capacity as 1800 pods represent a hefty investment on our part, and our own industrial investment and trade revenue, while increasing, is doing little to reduce the production gulf that exists. They used the pods in full view of our escorting ships. They wanted us to see them in use, not depending on us to take their word or a report from our liaison.”

     Valsur nodded. “Well put, Admiral. I think the Commonwealth were operating under operation security by not telling us about their missile pods beforehand. Others, especially certain council members, will take it as having their hands rubbed in farmyard refuse. No deliberate insult was intended; just a statement of fact. Maya, your thoughts?”

      The intelligence chief placed her glasses back on. “I do believe you’re right, my Lord. We haven’t told the Commonwealth about our pods yet, and we’ve used ours in circumstances where the Axis couldn’t inform higher authority. Had we come to a point using them openly, permitting the Axis to pass on that information, then we would’ve informed the Commonwealth. At best, we can inform them to use their pods in Eleto space in occupied cul-de-sac systems, thus keeping their use unknown to the Axis that much longer.”

     Valsur crooked his finger again, this time in the direction of Conovus. The older Hokum spoke. “As Maya has indicated, the allies of the Commonwealth have suffered far more casualties than us. In fact, we suffered no civilian casualties at all; not one planet invaded, not one city obliterated. For us, using pods is an effort to reduce our personnel losses. Even more so for the Commonwealth, and the pressure to use pods openly will be great. They have made such inroads into Axis pre-war space that they will run into systems that had years, decades even, to build up fortifications. We will face the same eventually. It is wishful thinking on my part, but if the Imperium and the Commonwealth assault well-defended Axis systems that cannot be bypassed or isolated at the same time it would produce the most impact and hesitancy into the enemy.”

     In turn Valsur looked at the three officers – senior, sage and battle tested warrior. He weighed their words with unseen scales, seeking balance in all things. He stood up, and by protocol the three officers also had to rise as well. “I’ve made an executive decision, and the council will be informed, not told, of what that decision will be. The Commonwealth will be informed of our possession of missile pods and the circumstances where they were used. I will call for a meeting with the Terpla’n ambassador and his naval attaché presently. All three of you will represent the Imperium in this matter, and you have my confidence that a coherent presentation can be made. Conovus, will three hours be enough time to prepare?”

     If confidence could be physically projected, then Conovus’ face would cleave the air in front of it. “More than enough, my Lord. With the able assistance of Maya and Janus it will be done.”

     A ringing noise filled the air. It came from the archaic phone at the head of the table. It never rang on accident. Valsur picked up the receiver, listened for a tantalizing moment, and gave some instructions before hanging up. “Well, whatever passes for ears must’ve been burning for the Terpla’n ambassador. He’s asked for an audience in four hours, no doubt acting on prearranged instructions. You three will still meet him in my stead and let him and his naval attaché know of my ‘displeasure’ of not having been informed beforehand of their missile pod assault. No official from the Foreign Office will attend as well, further emphasizing my ‘displeasure’.  I’m sure any hint of surprise from our disclosure will be hidden by a mask of professional platitude but still assert fully our recommendations.”

     “We will endeavor at our task, my Lord,” said Maya.

     Valsur looked at Janus. “As for you, Admiral, I have a request. You’ve spent time and corresponded with Jki. Her opinions and endorsement carry a good deal of weight in the Commonwealth Navy. Can you write a letter emphasizing our concerns to her? It will be sent to our liaison serving on her flagship, thus the encryption will be formidable as well as being protected by diplomatic privilege.”

     Janus knew at that moment why she was invited. She had indeed kept an infrequent correspondence, approved by the Navy, and had met Jki in the Bedrock system. It wasn’t the first time in history where familiarity with an ally was informally used for advantage or at least influence on policy. Janus knew Valsur had to use all the tools available to him as Emperor, but this made her feel like foisting an unwanted request on a relative. She kept whatever reservations she had off her face and out of her voice. “I will help, my Lord. Anything to further the goals you have set out.”

     “Thank you, Janus. This is not a request I make lightly as it can have long term positive effect on the war.”