And off we go...

Beacon found himself in a dark vent, hearing only the hiss of chilled gas sweeping through the pipes. He inhaled a deep breath and analysed it...oxygen was running at nearly thirty per cent. He chewed through the numbers, running estimates on what that could mean. On Terra that could indicate large scale creatures or some seriously inefficient design. Gravity was around .7, so it could be both. He would investigate when he had a sample. Time to begin…

He punched a hole through the vent and dropped the three meters to the floor. A quick scan found several doors nearly, one with what passed for security around here. He didn't bother with the Camo, merely moving to his hunting pace.

The door was some composite metal. Useless against him but sufficient to block any audio. A surprise then. He forced a probe into the security system and quickly overrode the lock, pushing silently to open it. Now he could hear the mumbled grunting of his enemies so he pulled his blade closer and pushed open the door.

---

Silver Wisp announced to his passengers that boarding was complete. He had created ten different committees, each with slightly overlapping responsibilities and had asked them to elect a Speaker. That should keep them busy. With a thought he sent himself hurtling towards the edge of human space, weapons foundry now complete and busily at work.

Probably time to visit the Ambassador.

---

Ambassador Rowan was still entranced with her quarters when a low bell told her that she had a guest. The present rushed back in, the prospect of a bloody war of vengeance with her name on it. When the door vanished into the walls she saw the Commander waiting for her permission to enter. She nodded and watched as his body reflected the dappled light, taking on a tinge of green and the patterns flickering across his skin becoming almost organic. She bowed and said, “Welcome Commander. You have made me welcome in ways I cannot explain. Thank you.”

Silver Wisp nodded and smiled, “Thank you. I had hoped you would treasure this place as much as I do.” He allowed his glance to wander, enjoying the tall and verdant trees and the calls from irritated wildlife and took a deep breath, “When I was a child I loved the forest, even if space called louder. I’m old enough to remember the forests burning and I took it upon myself to stand guard over the green places.” His eyes returned to dark steel, “I have news Ambassador. Would you hear it?”

Without her even noticing, her roots began extending deep into the soil below her, preparing for a storm. She nodded.

The Commander nodded, “The Beacon has become itself. It has agreed to my terms and has begun seeking justice for our people. Its children. If you are willing to listen I can tell you what I have agreed but Beacon will not change his course. He has resigned from Humanity.”

Rowen shivered, “Since when do we allow weapons to resign? Do axes get to choose if they wish to chop? What have you agreed?!”

Silver kept any sign of humour from his patterns. Those who live their lives in contented peace tend to look for the sharpest stick when things become difficult. He was a soldier and measured his response with a more professional eye. “Rowen, he is no weapon. He is a broken-hearted parent cast in steel and vengeance. He will seek out every Xeno that stood on a ship and destroyed his home while he was helpless to intervene. I estimate the most damage he can do is two hundred thousand casualties. Possibly a little more, but he is content to let me speak for our dead when it comes to the rest.”

She bent as if an ill wind had hit her, her leaves furling as if in a frost, “So many? What are we setting upon these people?”

Always this. Too hard, too soft. Too much or never enough.

“Ambassador, that represents less than ten percent of the number of families he just lost. I would kill them myself for the slaughter of one of our worlds but he will teach them terror, he will remind them that they drove our people to hide and die and then burned their very world. Mercy is for those you wish to forgive. I will not grant it and Beacon is merely their first lesson.” The stain of steel covered his skin once again, the softness of the forest forgotten,

“I guard the green places and our children that play within and I will see them pay for their cowardice.”

----

Beacon listened carefully, the vents telling him who was hiding and trying to stifle their crying. He had sealed the ship, declaring a full quarantine and isolating the crew from the salvation they thought awaited them on the outside of the ship. The idiot AI had not even noticed that it was the infection that was the one calling for quarantine. He reduced the lights a little more and caught a reflection from one of the panels. He was a dark thing, spattered with various fluids.

He was what they had made him, a blood-stained shadow of his people, a ghost of their ideals. He burned off the blood before something could use it to trace him and paced slowly towards the cubicle where he could sense two creatures trying not to sob. His blade was sharp, he had time before they finally broke into the ship. Today he would teach them fear, even as he had cried out as he watched his children huddled in the dark, crying as their world burned around them until the very air was flame.

----

Rowan stood in silence as she tried to absorb the situation. Despite the Commanders words she had the same thoughts, just not articulated as easily as a soldier. It made sense to her that Silver Wisp remembered the burning of the forests, an attack on her kind of human by an unthinking machine race. Long in the past and long extinguished but the first time that the race of man had truly stood in arms together and had decided to face the universe as one. A bond now stronger than any steel and as taken for granted. Even she had forgotten that other men held the skies safe for her and her people, careless as they built playgrounds and beauty that enriched them all.

She pulled up her too-deep roots and allowed the vengeance of the forest fill her. Blood will feed the soil that something wholesome can grow. She would not condemn something so broken as the Beacon, not when they had rendered its people to wretched and broken rock. To the bitter end, to justice if possible but revenge if that was all that was left. The universe had all but forgotten the smell of smoke but she remembered. All the carefully buried memories of her tears watering the burned nursery she had tended, her choices, rang through her. She shook slightly, a tremble that ran across her leaves. She swore silently. This was the price of immortality that eventually you could become anybody, even a bloody triffid.

----

The Shant Council was unhappy to be recalled and had yet to appoint a replacement for the recently deceased Director. It was tragic that his hearts had failed so suddenly after his retirement but they had given him a state funeral. Several states had, in fact. Amazing how many people had taken an interest in his sudden end. The Council was aware that many people were still asking questions.

The Councilman currently stuck holding the speaking stick had been dragged from his home and was not feeling particularly charitable, “So why exactly are we here in the middle of the damned night?” He slammed down the stick with enough force to awaken several of his colleagues that had fallen back into a doze. A Fleet Commander stood to attention in front of the council, unmoved by the noise.

The Xeno was a cold-blooded one, stiff in its uniform/life support. “Council, I must report that we have lost a vessel.”

The Councilman waved the stick, “What? Why am I dragged from my home because we lost a ship! We have millions of the damn things! Am I never to sleep again?”

The Xeno seemed to think about that. “Sir, that may well be true, I know it’s going to be difficult for me for a while. The ship we lost was in port, the Haven of Fire, a Corsair class ship with a crew of eighty. Mixed species. It was in for a refit after the…human problem was resolved. It had expended all its supplies and had served well so, frankly, no one noticed it went offline. We are still trying to piece together how it happened but I must show you what has happened.”

He knew there was no point in explaining so he simply triggered the screens. It was obviously the point of view of one creature. The council watched as it broke into the ship, as it began to hunt down the crew, as it broke into a secured room. They saw the knife, a thing of darkness, and then it found a crewman…

Most of the Council was still vomiting when he paused the recording.

“Council, this was sent to me by name. To show you what it was doing. It held that ship for nine hours and recorded every kill, every butchery. Each crewman was stripped of their face, its skin was taken for some unknown purpose. It also left a message.”

Written in blood, in excellent calligraphy, was a promise. “You will all fall to me.” it was signed ‘Beacon’.

He resumed the recording. If he had been forced to watch it so could they. He added, “This has been broadcast to the entire fleet and we couldn’t stop it in time. I believe this is going to end poorly unless we mobilise quickly.”

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