Barbarians

Here I sit on Buttermilk Hill

Who can blame me, cry my fill

And every tear would turn a mill

Johnny has gone for a soldier

I'll sell my flax, I'll sell my wheel

To buy my love a sword of steel

So it in battle he may wield

Johnny has gone for a soldier

Suzy Bogguss - “Johnny Has Gone For A Soldier (Traditional)”

The secretary listened for a moment to her earpiece, and then smiled. “The Chairman will see you now,” she informed Tango, ushering her through the glass doors to the office beyond, before closing them behind her.

The lanky blonde did a slow turn, taking it all in. “Nice place you got here,” she chuckled, as she crossed over to the man waiting to greet her. “You've done pretty well for yourself.”

Graybird reached out and took her hand. “It’s good to see you,” he grinned, waving her over to an informal seating area as the secretary returned with a cart, wheeling it over beside his chair before departing once more. “Coffee? Tea? Or if you’d like, I’m sure somewhere in the Tetrarchy, the sun‘s over the yardarm,” he smirked, as he raised an expensive looking bottle.

“You know me well, Graybird,” Tango chuckled, as he cracked open the bottle and began to pour. “Do I want to know what that is?”

“Does it matter?” They shared a laugh as he poured for them both, handing over a glass as he took his seat. “To old friends,” he toasted, raising his glass.

Tango did likewise, before taking a sip. “Mmmm…good stuff,” she sighed in content, before setting down her glass. “Just how in the hell did you build all this?” she asked.

“Simple...I saw an opportunity, and I took it,” he grinned. “After the war…not to mention the Coup...there were plenty of the old Triumvirate types that started thinking us crazy humans weren’t just being paranoid. I started selling Security upgrades to their systems, offered top-of-the-line service and tech support...and charged them every credit the market would bear.” He spread his arms wide, showing his plush office. “And the rest, as they say, is history.”

“And added a Back Door to every one of those systems, am I right?” she smirked.

Graybird’s expression was innocence personified. “I only use Back Doors for Security upgrades and Support,” he explained…though the twinkle in his eye was hard to miss.

Tango laughed as she took another sip of her drink. “Look, you’ve probably guessed why I’m here,” she said at last, as she came to the point.

“Yeah...I have,” he admitted, before shrugging. “Can I be honest with you?”

“You’d better,” she warned, though she smiled as she said it.

He nodded, taking a long sip from his glass, before leaning forward and looking her in the eyes. “Tango...I’m bored. It was a real challenge, building this company from the ground up, but these days? It runs itself. Last week, I snuck out of the building to play hooky for a few hours...and no one noticed.” He sighed as he shook his head. “Do you have any idea how depressing that is?”

“I think I do,” she nodded. “Why do you think I ended up with Nassat?”

“You know, I’d always wondered about that,” Graybird said after a moment. “You were the last person in the world I would have pictured playing nursemaid.”

“That’s not how I’d describe it, though you’re not all that far off. You remember how it all went down at the end...his wife and Sergeant Lin dying, him blaming himself...the guy was a mess. I always understood why he walked away from it all. And with the war over…” Tango shrugged. “Graybird...I’m a killer. I’m good at it. But I came to a point where I didn’t want to be defined by that. Nassat…the guy just wanted to be left alone. I protected his privacy, looked out for his kids, and in return, for the first time in a very long time...he gave me a home.” She smiled, as she stared into her glass. “He needed me, Graybird...and I enjoyed being needed.”

Graybird nodded and smiled. “I understand. So...would I be correct in assuming you came here with a mission in mind?”

“Yes and no,” she explained. “Yes, I’m here to recruit you, at the Field Marshal’s orders...but I don’t know what the job is yet.”

The hacker frowned for a moment. “...didn’t you jam a gun into her ear once?” he asked.

Tango rolled her eyes. “Why does everyone keep bringing that up?” she groaned.

“General Nassat, welcome to Θ18,” the Ophipteran officer greeted him. “I am Xeemvois, commander of the battlecruiser Chiron. You honor us with your presence, Sir.”

Nassat inclined his head, and somehow stifled the impulse of handing off his jacket to Tango. It wasn’t easy, unlearning the habits of twenty years overnight, and if the situation did not change soon, he would need to find a replacement, though he couldn’t imagine anyone stepping into the role as she had. It felt as if they had amputated his arm.

“Thank you, Commander,” he replied., “though I hope you will take no offense when I say this is one honor I wish I could have avoided.” Xeemvois froze, unsure how to respond, until Nassat relented, waving his own comment aside. “Please forgive my irascibility, Commander. Returning to active duty was not something I had planned on. What then is the status of the blockade?”

The Ophipteran looked unhappy. “Not good, Sir. Other than Chiron itself, we have only a handful of patrol boats and a few aging Comets. I have sent repeated requests to the Admiralty for more ships, but they have not responded.”

“I would not hold your breath awaiting those ships, Commander,” Nassat sighed. “Given the number of worlds they are tasking us to...protect, it stretches the fleet far thinner than anyone would like. Which means, it will force us to come up with ways to perform our mission based on what we have.”

To his credit, Xeemvois did not appear surprised by this bit of unwelcome news. “In that case Sir, I would be most curious to hear your thoughts.”

Nassat sighed and punched up a display of the planet. “If we are to protect this world, our mission is twofold. First, we must stop the rogue vessels. With only one warship at our disposal, early detection is paramount.”

Xeemvois’ wings fluttered as he viewed the holographic display. “We can launch our inventory of satellites and probes to give us better coverage of the planet,” he mused. “Once they are integrated into the network, it should give us adequate warning of any incoming vessels. Chiron could then move to intercept.” He touched the controls as new specks of light appeared in the display, moving to near-equidistant locations over Θ18, before looking back up to the Saurotaur. “You said there were two aspects to the mission, Sir?”

“I did,” Nassat answered, as his features grew worn and haggard. “Should we fail in preventing the rogue vessels from making their run to the planet...we must then assume that not only have they have breached the Quarantine but that the infection is spreading through the population like wildfire.” He looked up, his eyes meeting those of his Ophipteran counterpart. “May I assume you have seen the footage from Matevosian’s task Force?”

“I have, Sir,” Xeemvois nodded. “It makes for disturbing viewing.”

“That it does...and were our situation one gram less urgent than it is, it would force you to do without my august presence.” Nassat managed a wan smile. “Though perhaps that would be an advantage, in the long run.”

The Commander gave him a scripted smile, and he sighed as he realized he was being humored. “Commander, should the Quarantine be breached,” he continued, giving up on his feeble experiment at levity, “the matter of early detection becomes even more important, for any attempt of a vessel to leave the planet at that point must be prevented...by any means necessary.”

The Ophipteran looked away for a moment, before nodding. “Yes, Sir. May we at least seek to communicate with any vessels before being forced to use...more drastic measures?”

Nassat recognized just how anguished Xeemvois was by their orders. It was something he understood all too well. “In fact, I would insist on it, Commander,” he replied. “Opening fire should only be taken as a final measure when all other options have been extinguished. That being said...we must decide on a point for both incoming and outgoing vessels where no further warnings will be given...and we must be resolute in our execution of that directive.” He winced at his poor choice of words.

“Yes Sir,” Xeemvois agreed, ignoring the faux pas. “General, the Chief Administrator of Θ18 has made repeated demands to speak to someone in authority...someone better placed than myself, I’m afraid. I do not seek to shirk my duties, however…”

“It is all right,” Nassat said. “I will speak to the Administrator, and hopefully allay any concerns. I suspected something like this was the reason the Field Marshal sent me here.” He was not looking forward to that conversation...what he suspected would be the first of many.

“With any luck, the vessels will soon be recaptured, and we will put this entire matter behind us,” Nassat continued, with some hope. “Until then, however…” He sighed, and looked back at the display, “...Duty demands we remain vigilant.”