Author's Preface
The Human use of protomatter is another sign that we, as the Galactic Federation as a whole, must act soon and act swiftly against the Human threat.
No other species is, or ever was, reckless enough to use this highly dangerous extradimensional matter as a weapon — and now, in increasing numbers of cases, in civilian applications.
Humans act as if they have mastered protomatter. They might be right. They might not.
The real and immediate danger is what these slightly evolved primates might try next.
Every civilized species encountered protomatter on their ships after the first transit experiments. Every other civilized species lost lives or ships until they learned how to safely get rid of it. Every other civilized species avoids contact with matter that decays and evaporates everything in its vicinity.
Not so Humans.
They are not dangerous because of their engineering.
They are not a threat because of their fleets, or their armies.
They are dangerous because they are mad, and will kill us all one day — not with weapons, but because they play with things no one should play with.
— [ATTRIBUTION MISSING]
Batract Hyphae ships exploded by the score, sliced open by thick, burning Infector particle beams.
Other ships simply stopped, and if not immediately destroyed by their own squadron, slowly transformed into newborn Infectors.
High Ordinator Yurdantho observed the battle in the holotank of Niobe 's CIC, his inner eyelids fluttering with excitement.
Given the Hyphae's millennium of treachery, seeing their ships die in the hundreds was a cleansing feeling.
Every explosion was a victory for the fragile alliance. The Batract Hyphae Homefleet was driving the Infectors toward the wormhole, and the Infectors treated the Batract like little biting insects. Their plasma and laser cannons were almost incapable of overcoming the Infectors' shields.
You deserve everything coming to you, oh Valued Ones.
The venom glands in his beak began to drip at the last word.
The Nuk had become a dying race, due to the crimes the Batract had committed. Nothing could change the facts. Only vengeance remained. In a few hundred years, the Nuk would be a memory. So would the Batract.
He stood at his station, where he could direct his ships like an instructor in an academy building training scenarios for new officers. A 3D holographic map of the system allowed him to command every one of the vessels under his authority.
A marvelous system. I will have to introduce it to the Nuk naval forces.
Admiral Sanders had invited him aboard her ship to improve coordination between their fleets, given that they were the sword that would strike every ship coming too close to the planet.
The ship was depressurized now, giving the CIC a ghostly and unnatural silence, making every command and report over the comm channels sound louder and more disruptive.
"Batract Hyphae ships have stopped transiting in. Final count, 1,336,336 ships."
Yurdantho did not know the speaker, but he trusted the number. He had learned to respect Human officers over the last year.
Maybe their scientists could help with the scourge?
The officers of the CIC shifted slightly. Yurdantho understood the feeling. Humans were a young race; they were not used to fleets of this size.
Even all Nuk ships combined, military and civilian, were not close to a quarter of the enemy fleet.
Sanders stood there, a bulb of coffee in her hand, a straw attached to it so she could drink through her helmet seal. She nodded at the officer, radiating a stoicism only the most legendary Matriarchs possessed.
Humans were mad. This much was proven by the fact that they had dared to rebel in the first place. And somehow, they were winning…
They would attack the scourge with the same valor. They truly value their allies, and cannot stand by when the innocent are killed.
They will help us if we ask.
Yurdantho stopped the thought. No false hope. First the oath. Only then, when the last Hyphae was killed, would the Nuk go and search for a cure.
Everything in order.
"Thirty-four to the fourth. The Yellows are so predictable it's almost laughable."
Yurdantho looked up. The voice of Admiral Sanders was distinct. She was right. The Yellows, as the Humans had begun to call the Batract Hyphae, were predictable.
The Admiral stood in the middle of the CIC, observing a battle half an AU away.
All five allied fleets had retreated to Water, the Flirr homeworld. Yurdantho had been amazed at how quickly the Human engineers, or Pioneers as they called them, had dismantled and stored every space installation they had built.
Except the large space station with the drydocks. That was a structure which, once built, could not be dismantled. Not in two days.
"High Ordinator, you fought with the Batract. Will their whole plan be to drown the Infectors in ships?"
Sanders' question surprised Yurdantho. He had explained Batract battle strategy to her. She herself had fought them.
Maybe she hoped for a different outcome. Humans were mad, but he had learned they fought death with a vigor few species could muster.
"They must surely have a threshold of pain they'll take before changing tactics. They lost fifteen thousand ships in less than an hour."
Yurdantho thought about the battles he had fought alongside the Batract. The Admiral's question was not as redundant as he had first thought.
"The Hyphae is slow at learning, that much is true. But I recommend caution — do not underestimate it. It does adapt on occasion. Its strength is in numbers. And if the Infectors do not retreat soon, I predict they will be surrounded and die under the concentrated fire."
Sanders nodded.
"And then we will die in an honorable battle," Yurdantho added.
"No, High Ordinator. Then we have to defeat them, because I intend to live to a hundred."
As if to answer their discussion, the sensor officer interrupted them.
"Wormhole activity. Infectors exiting the vortex. Two, four, correction, sixteen. Count rising."
Yurdantho did not understand the Infectors' plan. They were Hyphae, or something like it, but their actions and motivations were fundamentally different.
They were as alien to each other as Humans were to… what was the quacking animal that could fly and swim? Cats? Yes. They were as different as Humans and cats.
Sanders turned to him.
"Yurdantho, what do you make of that? To me it looks like they want the Yellows to follow them through the wormhole. Like they're trying to taunt them."
A surprisingly sharp observation, from a species that had discovered chemical propellants while his people were already conquering their solar system.
He focused back on the readings, checking the fleet's positioning and the state of the battle.
The Infectors' weapons were slowly losing efficiency, hampered by the cloud of debris surrounding them.
This was the first time he had seen such an effect.
I am witnessing the largest space battle of my generation, and I can only stand on the sideline, protecting a planet from stragglers…
"Yes, Admiral. It seems the Infectors want the Batract Homefleet to follow them, but I can't see the reason why."
They both looked back at the holoscreen, Yurdantho's head analyzing every movement.
The Infectors that had arrived through the wormhole were larger, almost twice the size of the known Infectors. One of the monstrous space squids opened fire, its central particle beam engulfing five Batract vessels and ripping them apart with ease, cutting deep into the enemy formation.
"It's beautiful to look at and horrifying at the same time."
Sanders' words pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Yes, given that we probably have to face the survivor."
"They could be nice enough to wipe each other out."
The Human shrugging motion still alerted Yurdantho for a second. It was too close to the Nuk motion of opening one's flight arm, together with the sharp claws on it.
"Straggler alarm, section fourteen. Five ships."
The sensor technician's warning alerted the whole CIC. Sanders had divided the planet into sections and assigned offensive and defensive squadrons to each one.
Nuk and Human ships were the offensive group, Psstips and Shraphen the defensive.
Yurdantho would have chosen a more conventional defensive strategy, but he had to admit the Admiral's was elegant.
Five ships was nothing to worry about. The Hyphae was obviously testing the defenses.
"Admiral, order the Nuk ships not to use the Davies Guns. Let it be a surprise for later."
Sanders nodded, then ordered the squadron to attack on her map.
The Davies Gun was an ugly thing on the streamlined Nuk hulls, and the Nuk captains had needed to learn to aim with the whole ship, since it was a spinal weapon. But its firepower was of such impressive character that the entire Nuk Navy was in the process of refitting to it.
And it was a capability unknown to the Batract. A surprise Yurdantho wanted to keep secret for as long as possible.
His fleet was the first that had been upgraded, and with all the ship repairs and new constructions, further upgrades would take some time.
The drones and minefields were also still deactivated, just like the gun emplacements around the wormhole's vortex. They were the embodiment of the defensive strategy Sanders had chosen.
The system was emptied of all assets, and every defensive installation was placed around the planet below.
The Human Army had even landed their supermassive Mammoth tanks on the few scattered islands before the rest shipped out. Together with the billions of drones and mines — he could hardly believe the numbers — not even the entire Nuk Navy could have broken through. Human logistics was probably the deadliest weapon in their arsenal.
Yurdantho hadn't understood at first why Sanders called this the angry porcupine strategy. Not until he looked the animal up — an animal that seemed to be made entirely of long defensive quills, but harmless if not attacked. He had to fight the urge to laugh.
High Ordinators do not laugh. At least not until the enemy is defeated.
"16th Squadron confirms firing solution. Orders, sir?"
"Engage at will."
Yurdantho had learned that the request for fire authority was a formal sign of honor rather than military procedure. The Humans had something called ROE, rules of engagement, and they were set before the battle.
How cruel is fate. After a millennium of false friendship, we find a race that could be real friends, while we learn that our Nukruk are infertile.
Pulling himself back to order and pushing any fatalistic thoughts aside, he focused on observing the first battle of a mixed Human-Nuk squadron.
Just as planned, the three Human ships opened fire on the closing Batract frigates. Two shots missed due to the constraining orbital angular momentum, but the third hit and inverted the enemy ship.
The Batract tried to fight back with plasma and laser fire, but his squadron of Nuk ships shielded the Human ships with ease.
The whole squadron was now close enough to use their PDGs, and even if Nuk ships could not use protomatter ammunition yet, they managed some satisfying hits on their enemies.
The distraction fire and shielding allowed the Human ships to position themselves better against their enemies.
Three shots later, three more enemy frigates ruptured, their insides turned out by the force of the faster-than-light projectiles.
The whole Human way of fighting at close quarters reminded Yurdantho of the old ways of air duels. Each opponent trying to get behind his enemy to line up a perfect shot with his gun or rifle.
Did Humans have similar traditions? Perhaps in mechanical flying machines, since they lack wings?
The last Batract vessel slowed, its hull perforated by PDG fire from the Human and Nuk ships.
From the corner of his eye, Yurdantho saw Sanders move suddenly, pointing at the disabled ship.
"16th Squadron, pull that ship in and prepare to board. Every scrap of intel counts."
Some captain Yurdantho did not know answered with a "Yes, sir."
Boarding. How do they plan to hack the biological computers? With Gliders, maybe?
The Admiral walked slowly over to him, her coffee bulb still in hand.
"We need to get inside their systems. I think Gliders are the best way. We have a whole group of them ready to hack their way in on the station."
"So you think it's worth the lives of your soldiers? The Batract will defend their ships vigorously."
"They are trained in boarding operations. The Batract won't know what hit them."
Yurdantho had seen the Human Marines in action, and what they lacked in Nuk elegance, they made up for in pure aggression and overwhelming power.
"High Ordinator, any remarks on our first engagement?"
Going through the battle again in his mind, he had found a few points to improve.
"Your ships need to signal their planned turns better to our captains. Otherwise they leave the protection we provide. And our Nuk gunners have to be more careful with their PDG fire. They hit the Repulse multiple times."
An idea formed in his head.
"We could let the ship AI systems control the navigation and weapons of the whole squadron. This would increase their efficiency by magnitudes."
"No."
Sanders' sharp answer made Yurdantho flinch slightly. Using the AI systems could save lives. Even though they made them, they seem to restrict them artificially.
He had noticed it before. The ships' AI could not control anything of consequence aboard. It could recommend actions, even plan firing solutions and navigation headings, but there was always a Human pushing the button.
It seems there are things Humans are afraid of. Their own creations.
"Sir, the Infectors appear to be retreating."
He knew this speaker. Lieutenant Grabowski, seemingly an apprentice of sorts to Admiral Sanders. The officer was the lowest ranking in the CIC and by far the youngest, yet Sanders had put him at different stations throughout the mission.
Or was he her preferred sexual partner?
Did Human females keep a harem like Nuk?
Was it appropriate to ask such questions?
He noticed his focus drifting. His last meditation cycle was too long ago, but he had to show strength and stamina to the Humans, given they did not seem to tire at all. Perhaps because of the stimulating drinks they consumed.
He forced his focus back on the main projection.
The Infectors had indeed begun to slowly retreat toward the vortex, still firing their particle beams into the advancing mass of Batract ships, leaving clouds of debris wherever they struck.
Whenever a ship got separated from the main force, the Infectors used a different weapon. RedRocket, a Glider and the ship's sensor officer, had called it the corruptor beam.
A highly focused EM beam that seemingly turned Batract Hyphae back into Protohyphae. The ship then stopped, and over the next hour the hull bulged and in the end ripped open, revealing a smaller Infector in its place.
From Yurdantho's perspective, this was the most horrible weapon he could imagine, and he was glad it would not work on his ships.
At least he hoped so. Who knows how deep they manipulated our genome these last thousand years.
As he watched, the Infectors entered the wormhole, disappearing to a place 280,000 light-years away, if the drones were to be believed.
They had lost the drone footage hours ago, destroyed by Infectors patrolling the space around the megastructure.
"We will soon see whether the Batract follow the Infectors or turn on us, Admiral Sanders. Either way, we fought with honor and order."
Sanders turned to him, her head angled, her face unreadable behind the helmet.
"That sounded almost like last words, Yurdantho. Still fixated on dying here?"
"Nuk soldiers are always content to die for their cause."
"Human soldiers are focused on letting the enemy die for theirs, High Ordinator."
The drones showed the last Infector passing through the wormhole.
A visible change ran through the advancing Batract fleet. Ships stopped their evasive maneuvering, and the whole convoy began accelerating.
Still leaning on the console, Sanders took another sip from her coffee bulb.
"Hell, I wish we still had our drones on the other side."
"Seeing the battle on the other side would be advantageous. Could we send one of the spy drones close to the wormhole through it?"
"They're hard to detect while stationary, but the moment we move them, we risk losing them. No. We need their real-time information if the Batract move on us."
Yurdantho weighed the pros and cons of her decision. Primates were usually extremely curious. Seeing the Human Admiral fight that urge in favor of a better tactical position would influence his report and recommendations to the Matriarchate considerably.
"Batract fleet is accelerating at thirty gravities. More than sixty thousand ships have already passed through the wormhole. Estimated time for full fleet transit, twenty hours."
Sanders' body sagged a little. In relief? Yurdantho could not tell, but he felt it himself. The Batract were simply leaving.
As much as he liked an honorable fight, and as much as he adored the Human sentiment of laughing in death's face, he was not convinced at all that the massive defenses could repel the entire Homefleet.
And even if they could, the loss of lives and materiel would be devastating.
"Thank whoever god is listening…"
Yurdantho's inner eyelids blinked at the Admiral's exclamation.
How religious were Humans? Could this become a problem in a deeper alliance?
'Admiral, we have a transmission from Admiral Browner on the emergency channel.'
To Yurdantho it was curious that Zeus, and not the communications officer, informed the Admiral. It seemed the AI decided on its own where to support the staff. Or it had noticed the comms officer was currently overloaded with fleet coordination. Perhaps both.
"Put him through."
An older Human with gray hair and a trimmed gray beard appeared in the holotank. Yurdantho had seen pictures of him in the personnel files the Humans had shared, but he had never spoken with the man.
"Cassidy, our deep space warning grid has just detected massive fleet movements. Three fleets have left Batract space. Estimated destinations are Taishon Tar, Sol, and Nekoo. Zeus informed me of your situation. As soon as the Batract fleet is gone, destroy the wormhole by any means, and prepare for Murano Protocol. Understood?"
Sanders became stiff again. Her movements were… controlled now. Slow. Yurdantho had hunted prey in his youth, and he knew that when a predator moved like this, it was ready to attack.
"Understood. Any timeframe?"
"The fleets are massive. Each in the hundreds of thousands. The first will hit the Psstips in two days. Chen-Buckler's fleets will reach them four days later. We'll then see how it goes… Just be ready. Browner out."
The CIC officers were all frozen in place, staring at the disappearing Admiral. Some sank back into their seats.
Yurdantho understood only parts of what had been said, but that was enough to make his flight arms itch. The long-dreaded Batract counterattack was coming. And the Humans' home system was about to be attacked.
"Admiral, what is… Murano Protocol? I am not familiar with that term."
Sanders turned to him, her voice almost as cold as ice.
"They try to exterminate us, we glass their planet."
————
Eighteen hours had passed. Yurdantho had managed to meditate and sleep. In the mess hall, where the cook had prepared bulbs of nourishment paste, the crew had only one topic of discussion.
The advancing fleets.
Yurdantho knew this behavior from the Batract already, just at smaller scales. He knew it, and he had informed Sanders. If they could not defeat the fleets, their planets would be eradicated. The population reduced to a manageable number, and every notion of rebellious behavior bred out of them through years of occupation.
The Nuk had helped in some of those campaigns.
"They can try if they like."
That was all she had said.
When talking to the crew, even the cooks gave a similar answer.
"Let them come. We just melted a Doomsphere in our sun…"
Yurdantho hoped it wasn't arrogance speaking, but actual capability.
As he was almost finished slurping the nutrient paste, red light flashed. Zeus's voice cut through all private intercoms.
'Red alert. Red alert. All senior officers to stations.'
Dropping his bulb, Yurdantho jumped up and joined three officers on their way to the CIC.
What had happened now?
Entering the CIC, he immediately saw what had happened. The wormhole was gone.
And a remaining fleet of Batract was looking for a new target.
Admiral Sanders was nowhere to be seen.
"Zeus, where's the Admiral?"
'She just went to sleep. I woke her, but she'll need a few minutes to reach the CIC. According to her, you'll have command for now.'
His inner eyelids fluttered. Would the crew even follow his orders?
"Sensors, report."
The Commander did not flinch at answering to an alien officer, showing his professionalism.
"Sir, fifty seconds ago the wormhole collapsed. Reasons unknown. We count 130,753 enemy ships in system. They seem to be without any order."
Yurdantho had an idea why. If the commanding ships of the scattered fleet elements were on the other side of the wormhole, the squadrons had no commander. Until they fought out who would command the remaining ships, they would be easy pickings.
The time window was small.
"Prepare defense satellite activation. Alert the fleet. We have minutes for a devastating alpha strike."