Barbarians

A hero of war

Is that what they see?

Just medals and scars

So damn proud of me

And I brought home that flag

Now it gathers dust

But it's a flag that I love

The only flag I trust

Rise Against - “Hero of War”

The intercom’s buzz yanked Nassat from his attempted meditation. Finding serenity had been all but impossible since the battle with the Ronin Masters that had turned everything upside-down. It seemed as if every time he thought he understood how the Universe worked, someone would peel back yet another layer. Would there never be an end to the secrets?

Bowing to the inevitable, he pressed the glowing icon. Commander Xeemvois’ appeared his diaphanous wings a blur. It was the surest sign in his species of agitation and given their situation he knew what news the Ophipteran brought without asking. A moment later, he confirmed his fears.

“We have spotted one of the rogue ships, General,” he said without preamble. “Initial scans have identified it as the Triton, and its course will bring it to Θ18 within the next two hours.”

So...it has begun, Nassat thought. He had hoped they would have already dealt with the errant vessels with by now, or failing that, they would choose some other destination. Fate once again had decreed otherwise, and he managed a brief nod as he considered their next move.

“Is there any sign of the other ship, Phoenix?” he asked.

“No sir,” Xeemvois replied.

“In that case, we must prepare to meet the vessel, and destroy it,” Nassat ordered. “Will Chiron be up for the task?”

“Yes sir,” the Commander nodded. “Based on the footage from Admiral Matevosian’s battle, I am certain we will defeat the rogue ship. The transformed Ronin do not fight as efficiently as they did prior to their reprogramming...though they attack with great ferocity.”

“We must not forget this,” Nassat agreed. “I know that I approved your request to attempt communications, but if they prove fruitless, we must destroy the ship.” He searched the Ophipteran’s face for any signs of unease. “Can you do this, Commander?”

Xeemvois bowed his head and nodded. “Yes sir,” he said at last. “I know what we must do...though I do not relish it.”

“Nor should you,” the Saurotaur agreed. “If we cannot dissuade them from their course...then we can at least do them the honor of ending their suffering.”

“Yes sir,” he said quietly. “The vessel will be within range in 30 minutes. Will you be on the Bridge?”

“I will, though I will leave Tactical command in your hands. I am not a Naval officer and would not presume to tell you how to do your job.”

“Thank you, General,” Commander Xeemvois said. “We await your arrival.”

“I shall be there shortly,” he informed him. “Nassat, clear.”

And now we send our fellow citizens to their graves. Will this madness never end? he reflected in sorrow, as klaxons began to blare throughout the ship.

“Attention on deck!” the Naval rating barked, as Nassat stepped through the hatch.

“As you were,” he said with a weary wave, as Xeemvois joined him.

“We have sent repeated messages to Triton, asking them to respond,” the Naval officer explained. “We have heard nothing in return.”

“Nor is it likely you will, Commander,” Nassat replied in sympathy. “You always knew this was the most probable outcome.”

“Yes sir,” he agreed, “yet I had hoped…” Xeemvois sighed and shook his head. “Assuming they continue maintaining radio silence, they will be within range in ten minutes.”

Nassat nodded. “Commander...my mentor imparted to me a piece of wisdom, that I would like to share with you. It has helped me through some very difficult times.”

The Naval officer looked at him in hopeful expectation. “...do what you have to do,” he whispered. Xeemvois blinked, his wings fluttering as he stared in confusion. “Trust me...it is more complicated than it sounds,” he explained.

“As you say, General,” Xeemvois agreed.

“Sir...Triton will enter weapons range in two minutes,” the XO announced.

The Commander took a moment to steel his courage, preparing himself for the grim task at hand. “Lock all weapons on Triton,” he said at last. “Secure all sections.”

Nassat watched with the others as the rogue vessel appeared on the display. It did not try to alter course or speed, boring in as if it were a torpedo, instead of a ship. It seemed as if the crew held their breath as she approached, as everyone aboard Chiron prayed there might be a last-minute reprieve.

Sadly, it was not to be.

“Triton has entered weapons range,” the XO informed them, as all eyes turned to Xeemvois. Nassat waited as the Commander wrestled with his conscience, until, he gave the order. “All batteries...Commence Firing.”

The antimatter turrets opened fire, blasting away at the vessel with deadly precision. Triton returned fire, forcing Chiron to engage in evasive maneuvers, as each ship sought to destroy the other.

But the same lack of imagination Admiral Matevosian had observed at Gzuj came into play above Θ18. While Triton did score a handful of hits on Chiron, it suffered horrendous damage. Entire sections were ravaged and opened to space, as Commander Xeemvois sought to deliver the final blow. The two vessels traded punches as the rogue ship raced forward, while the defenders stood their ground.

Until finally, Triton exploded.

The screens dimmed as the white-hot glare of matter/antimatter annihilation signified the ship’s demise. Nassat winced as they destroyed the vessel, though to his credit the Commander bore the strain as well as any human he’d known had. Given their unique skills and temperament, Humanity was still the standard by with the other races measured themselves in anything that involved combat.

“Target is destroyed,” the XO said at last.

Commander Xeemvois gave him a curt nod. “Very well. Inform the Damage Control parties they are to keep me apprised of their status.” He paused, and then asked, “Casualties?”

“Reports are still coming in, Sir,” the XO replied. “Sickbay is reporting four dead, thirteen wounded.”

The Ophipteran nodded and closed his eyes. “It could have been worse,” Nassat reminded him, though that seemed to offer little comfort.

“I will never understand how the Humans do this so easily,” Xeemvois said at last.

“They do not,” the General replied, shaking his head, “They merely disguise it better.” He touched the Commander on his arm. “Come. Let us see to your wounded.”

Xeemvois took one last look at the debris field on the screen, before sighing and following Nassat to Sickbay.

The destruction of Triton had been total. Little of the vessel remained, other than the odd bit of metal. No one gave the debris more than a cursory glance. Why would they? The ship was gone.

But the Ronin Masters had expected this when they’d reprogrammed their former slaves. During the journey from Gzuj, the machines had been hard at work, ripping the interior spaces of the ship apart and repurposing them. When Triton died most of its crew were safely tucked away, wrapped up in their metallic cocoons. The blast took out some...but not all.

The debris swept forward, carried by its momentum, until Θ18’s gravity field ensnared the wreckage and dragged it down, pulling it deeper into its atmosphere. The exterior of the cocoon’s ablated away, protecting their packages as they screamed through the sky, leaving fiery trails in their wake.

As the cocoon shells melted, they revealed rigid surfaces more resistant to the extreme temperatures of reentry. The packages began to sway, slowing their descent, turning their death dives into something survivable...for a machine.

The packages drifted apart as they neared the surface, the random gyrations caused by the shapes of their cocoons taking them further and further from one another. This too had been expected, as they reached the end of their journey. One after another they slammed into the planet surface, burying themselves deep in furrowed craters in the soil.

Not all of the packages survived. For some, the hazards of reentry proved too much. But for those that did, they began shedding their cocoons and digging their way to the surface. Some were trapped below ground, but this too had been expected. It was of no consequence to the Masters, so long as one Ronin survived to complete its mission.

Due to their planning, several Ronin, in fact, survived...and once they freed themselves from the wreckage, they began to seek their own kind.

The uninfected Ronin...who did not understand what was coming for them.