"The problem with humanity is it is entirely populated by humans," - Scintillating Aurora, Digital Sentience, Pre-Glassing

"Task Force Aardvark is going to lightspeed," Commander Prevont said.

Admiral Thennis just nodded, watching one of her displays. Slowly but surely each task force, separated from the massive armada she had deployed against the Lanaktallan, went to lightspeed, heading for a target.

Chronotron and graviton emissions had pinpointed literally hundreds of systems under attack by the Atrekna themselves. Intelligence had pointed out that the strategy relied on a heavy force of the Atrekna ruling class, not the Dwellerspawn.

Thennis tried not to think about how many years, decades, or centuries had passed for the people within those systems so far, much less how much would pass before Space Force and their Lanaktallan auxiliary units arrive, much less liberate the system.

She stood up and moved over to the holotank, staring at the field of stars within. A faint coloration told her who the systems currently belonged to.

Where before it had been entirely shaded in the Unified Council's color, now it was a hodgepodge 3D quilt patchwork of various colors.

The Harmonous Empire held 100 systems. The MechLords of Terra held nearly double that, surrounding the Harmonous Empire to the south. The New Republic held thirty systems to the galactic north. The Cylon Protectorate held twelve systems to the south.

The LARPers have decided they don't want to play pretend any more, Thennis thought to herself.

She could see the nine major Lanaktallan factions, nearly a dozen free systems that were the origin system of former Lanaktallan servant castes. Nearly thirty breakaway Lanaktallan factions, some of which were on the edge of the civil war, none of which were signatories to the Treaty of Dreams that had ended the Confederacy/Council War.

Then there was the Long Dark separating Council Space from Confederate Space.

Over three hundred systems inside the Long Dark had been taken by the Atrekna.

Military Intelligence put forward, and Admiral Thennis agreed, that every one of those planet had indigenous life that the Atrekna intended to harness and harvest.

Admiral Thennis's stomach slowly rolled as she thought about how the Atrekna ruling caste devoured emotions just as the ancient Mantid Overcastes had, but topped it off by devouring the brain of a living victim, reproduced by injecting larvae into the abdominal cavity of a living host, and could apparently drain the bio-energy, the life force, from beings with their vast crystal arrays and technology to fuel their society, technology, and war machines.

At least Confederate Research and Development figured out what frequency the damned crystals are vulnerable to as well as bringing about the new warsteel, she thought.

"Task Force Quasar jumping to light speed, Admiral," one of the bridge crew said.

Thennis nodded. "Thank you," she said, still looking at the holotank.

She shifted the holotank contents to bring up the Confederacy and stared.

Hundreds of worlds were amber or red, signifying that the entire planet was nothing but the dead. Amber ones meant that at least 5% of the population had survived. Each of them showed little icons for how much and what species.

I'm a member of an extinct species, she thought to herself for the thousandth time. My fleet contains a significant, measurable percentage of Terran Descent Humanity.

She looked, through the holofield, at Commodore Jureval, a BASS fox-chimera.

Even your people took nearly total casualties, she thought. She shook her head again. Digital sentiences took it hard too. The ability to 'procreate' and mix digital DNA with digitized human DNA meant millions of digital sentiences crashed out, never to be recovered.

A wave of fatigue and defeat washed through her and she felt the faint pinprick at her wrist at the same time as her med-bracelet gave her an injection to counter-act the feeling.

She hated it, but right now, just being a Terran Descent Human put you on suicide watch.

"Task Force Zachariah is signalling they are ready to go to lightspeed, Admiral" she heard.

"Take us out," Thennis ordered.

She stared at the little dot in the holotank.

TIME TO ARRIVAL: 107 HOURS

Don't worry. We're coming, she cast her thought out to the inhabitants of the planet. And we're in the mood to punch someone till they hurt as bad as we do.

-------------

"Come in," Trucker called out from inside the room.

NoDra'ak opened the door, revealing Trucker standing in the small suite in the Bachelor Officer's Quarters. The human was folding a uniform to put in the travelall, other clothing cleaned and pressed and ready to be folded and put away.

"Just came by to say good luck," NoDra'ak said. "You all right?"

Trucker nodded. "Yeah."

"What's your orders say?" NoDra'ak asked.

"Report to Telkan-2, there I'll be put in the first available slot," Trucker said. He tucked a pair of socks into the corner then turned to face Smokey 'No, leaning against the waist high dresser. "Are they going to case Spearhead's colors?"

Smokey 'No shook his head. "No. CDoA (Confederate Department of the Army) determined that the amount of volunteers from all across the services means that there will be no problem reconstituting it."

Trucker nodded. "Good. Wouldn't be the same without Pearhead around." The big burly human reached into his pocket and pulled out a can of dip, shaking it while smacking one finger against the side.

Smokey 'No snorted. "No, no it wouldn't," he clacked a laugh as he pulled out his smokes. "Apparently nobody's in a huge hurry to try to fill your shoes."

"Need all the good combat generals we can get," Trucker said. He packed his lip then closed the can and jammed it back into his pocket. "As soon as the refits are done for the new warsteel, we're going on the offensive against the Atrekna, and that means boots and treads on the ground."

Smokey 'No nodded. "You know, if you want, I can arrange for you to stay with 7th Army."

Trucker shook his head. "Naw," he looked out the window. "Maybe I was in charge of 3rd Armor too long, you know? I think a change of scenery will be good for me."

"If you say so," Smokey 'No said. He cleared his throat. "I heard you had a visitor last night."

Trucker nodded. "Yeah."

Smokey 'No waited a moment. "So why did the Devil come to see you?"

Trucker looked away. "It's between her and I."

"Manuel," Smokey 'No said. "It's me."

Trucker kept staring at the wall. "I sold my soul, all right."

Smokey 'No stood stock still. It might seem ludicrous to others, but the fact that the Detainee was the Lord of Hell in the SUDS, and dead human's were recorded to SUDS, selling his soul was a very real thing.

"What did you get for it?" Smokey 'No asked.

"She promised to help my men. Help the ones I pushed through the Black Cauldron," Trucker said. "Not make them wait in line, wait for initial processing, she'd move them to Hell and help them."

"And you'd trust the Devil to keep her word?" Smokey 'No asked.

Trucker turned and looked at him. "What am I supposed to do, Smokey? Let them stand in line, bound in chains, screaming? Leave them to wander the pre-loading processing area? Let them stand there screaming in agony?" He looked back out the window. "They're my men, Smokey. I have a responsibility to them," he lifted up an empty narcobeer bottle and spit into it. "Even the dead."

Smokey 'No just nodded.

"You all right with the sentence?" Smokey 'No asked.

Trucker snorted. "A letter of notice of action, time served, and forced reassignment?" he gave NoDra'ak a smile. "My sentence sets the precedence for anyone else who uses that Digital Omnimessiah damned system and is found Not Innocent."

"There's a lot of people who feel like you were thrown under the ground hauler. It wasn't illegal when you used it, it wasn't illegal by the rules they set down in their precedence brief and ruling," Smokey said, reaching over and tapping his ashes into the trash can.

"That's the thing with precedence setting cases. It wasn't illegal to do it when you did it, it was determined to be illegal after you did it. That's why anyone who uses it after me will be held to the standards they determined I was held to," Trucker said. He reached down, opened the minifridge, and grabbed a narcobrew. He knocked the cap off with the edge of the dresser and his palm, handed it to NoDra'ak, and got himself one. "I used it, but with full tactical and strategic knowledge, with no malice or negligence, in a situation that is obvious that not deploying it would lead to an unacceptable loss of civilian life," he looked out the window. "You know, the people we're supposedly protecting when we kill each other."

Smokey 'No nodded.

"Lieutenant Reardson hung himself," Trucker said softly. "Fifth Regiment Staff Duty Officer kicked in his door, found him hanging there."

"I heard," Smokey 'No said.

"I saw him at dinner last night. He was quiet, but, you know, it's been sort of quiet since everyone fell down dead," Trucker said. He took a long drink off the beer. "He had a wife, husband, and six kids. All gone. His parents, his siblings, his in-laws, all gone."

NoDra'ak just nodded.

"He and his men were doing drills when it happened. He watched his entire platoon die and was helpless to do anything," Trucker said softly. "He couldn't live with it."

"He should have reached out to someone, Manuel, you know that. AFN's been running those commercials every hour," NoDra'ak said. "You couldn't have known if he didn't tell you."

Trucker just stared out the window. "Yeah. I didn't see it coming, Smokey," he looked at the carpet. "I didn't see it."

"You're not psychic. You aren't a Mantid seer or a Crusade Witch-Singer," Smokey 'No said.

Trucker nodded. "Yeah."

"Are you going to be all right, Manuel?" Smokey 'No asked.

"Yeah. Just need to pack. I'm supposed to leave for Telkan-2 this evening at 2300 Hours," Trucker said. He set down the narcobrew and turned around, picking up a pair of adaptive camouflage pants and folding them.

"I'll leave you to it," Smokey 'No said. He dropped the cigarette butt in his empty narcobrew bottle and dropped the bottle in the trash. "You let me know if you need anything," He opened the door, then turned to look at Trucker. "Or if you just need someone to talk to, all right?"

"I will," Trucker said, staring at the shirt he was folding.

"Don't do anything stupid," General NoDra'ak said, and went out the door.

"Too late," Trucker said softly as the door closed.

---------

A'armo'o looked at his cards, keeping them carefully tilted so that nobody else could see them. Ge'ermo'o was rifling through the bowl of mixed nuts and pretzels, picking out the hot pepper pretzels, still not bothering to pick up his cards.

Holding back a sigh he tightened his jowl tendrils deliberately to make it look like he was pleased and folded his cards back together.

"Trucker left last night," Smokey 'No said, puffing on a cigarette. He looked at his cards, looked at the pot, and tossed a chip in. "I'll see you and raise."

"I wasn't aware of any transports leaving," Ge'ermo'o said without looking up from where he was hunting one of the last nova-hot pretzels he'd seen.

"He left with the Immortals and the Martial Orders," Smokey 'No said.

That got nods at the table.

Ge'ermo'o looked up. "Is that unusual?"

General Vaskawark laughed. "You could say that. The Martial Orders aren't exactly a taxi service."

"Why would he accept a ride with such menacing and anxiety inducing beings?" Ge'ermo'o asked, lifting up the bowl and swirling the contents. He really wanted that pretzel.

"They're going to the same place he has to to report for duty," Smokey 'No said.

"Call," General Mulvigrave said.

"Where's that?" A'armo'o asked.

"Telkan-2," Smokey 'No said. "I'll take two."

"Huh, I wonder what they want there," A'armo'o said. "I'll take one."

Smokey 'No shrugged. "Who knows."