Oh, a storm is threat'ning

My very life today

If I don't get some shelter

Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

The Rolling Stones - “Gimme Shelter”

Φ Prime Ξ 57 sent out a mental command to one of the Positron Collectors in stationary orbit over the microquasar, ordering it back to the storage facility. The Triumvirate relied on Matter/Antimatter annihilation as an energy source, but even for their advanced technology creating antimatter was still a labor-intensive process, with little reward. It was far simpler to mine the valuable substance, and the best location to find any measurable amount was in the two jet streams radiating from the microquasar on the edge of Triumvirate space. There were smaller harvesting facilities elsewhere, but the Giayaam microquasar was by far their most productive site.

The collector began its journey back to storage, crossing paths with its replacement. The high energy jets were destructive, and the collectors could survive their onslaught for only very brief periods before a replacement was required. The entire operation was automated, apart from Φ Prime Ξ 57 itself, though given the Ronin’s artificial nature that could be argued either way. It was far too hazardous an environment for mere flesh and blood, so by long tradition, a rotating corps of Ronin assumed responsibility for the operation. The job required lightning fast reflexes and attention to detail, areas in which the mechanical Ronin excelled. On rare occasions, it would transfer its sphere to one of the various automatons involved with the collection process to handle operations directly, but other than that it was a tedious and routine assignment.

A proximity alarm suddenly clamored for its attention. It was far too early for its replacement to be arriving on station, so Φ Prime Ξ 57 diverted some of its attention to the signal. Multitasking was also one of its racial abilities, but when it examined the source of the signal more it found itself at an unheard-of loss for words. It had detected a fleet of ships in the vicinity, and on closer inspection, they were of a type unknown to the Triumvirate’s databanks. A new race, perhaps? Φ Prime Ξ 57 hoped that wasn’t the case, even though it had been almost a century since they had met the Humans from Earth, they were still struggling to accommodate the fledgling species. There was a rather vocal minority, one that Φ Prime Ξ 57 found itself in agreement with, that believed the Triumvirate would be much better off sending the humans packing. Their technology was primitive in the extreme, and their culture even more troubling. Their history of violence made them a poor fit, in its opinion, but the government had overruled the minority faction.

These ships were not Terran or Triumvirate, so that begged the question of what they were, and what its response should be. Should it attempt a greeting, or quietly gather data? The one thing it could not do, however, was send a message by com back to the Ministry. The microquasar’s emissions played merry havoc with the Ansible Faster-Than-Light system, but it had another method it could use. Φ Prime Ξ 57 had several message drones available, but they would be detected by the unknown ships if they were launched.

The system updated its information, and Φ Prime Ξ 57 realized with an uneasy feeling that was a moot point. Some of the ships had broken off the main body and were now heading his way, and it realized just how unlikely it was that they were just dropping by for a friendly visit. First Contact with the Humans had been with a single ship, not an armada, and with that acknowledgement, the decision became a simple one. It took less than a second to upload its sensor data into the message drone, and moments later it was sent roaring off to Triumvirate territory.

Φ Prime Ξ 57 watched in shock as a ship destroyed the drone less than two minutes later, killing it with a powerful energy beam.

A thousand scenarios raced through its electronic mind, and they all ended the same way. Still, there was something else it could try. Once again it uploaded its data, but this time it sent all its drones haring away, each in a different direction. It would be all but impossible for the alien fleet to intercept every one of them, ensuring that at least some would make it back.

The alien fleet reacted instantly, its ships splitting off in pursuit. They must have guessed their purpose and decided that no message would be allowed to be sent back to the Ministry. More beams slashed out, and one by one the drones blinked out of existence until the last one disappeared from its sensors. It took Φ Prime Ξ 57 several seconds to accept what its sensors were saying...it had been certain at least one drone would have gotten through. That every single one of its drones had been destroyed shook its confidence to the core, and several more minutes ticked by before it attempted one final tactic of desperation. Focusing its com system on the nearest vessel it beamed a message on maximum gain.

Unknown ship, this is Triumvirate space. We are not a threat to you and request a chance to speak. Please respond.

Twenty minutes later Φ Prime Ξ 57 received a reply, as half a dozen ships blew it into component atoms.

Leandra Singh stood on the balcony of the Embassy, staring up at the sky. The sun had just finished setting, and as she gazed out over the alien city the first stars began to appear, distorted as always by the planet’s shield. She’d never gotten used to the sight, and seeing them unfiltered once more was something she looked forward to when she assumed her new post on Zion. No date was set as the candidates for her replacement were still being vetted, but she had every confidence that Governor-General Granville would handle it quickly and efficiently.

A polite cough behind her pulled her from her reverie, turning to spot her assistant Amadeo Riese holding a pad and wearing a polite smile. “Madam Ambassador, the latest update for Earth,” he told her, holding up the tablet. She waved him over and took the device from his hands, giving it an almost cursory glance before affixing her signature and handing it back. “See that it goes out immediately,” she told him, as she once again turned her sights to the alien sky.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he nodded, tucking the tablet back under his arm. “Will there be anything else?”

“No, not tonight,” she answered, before giving him a wry look. “It won’t be long before you’ll be breaking in a new Ambassador,” she said with a smirk.

Riese chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll muddle through somehow, Ma’am,” he replied, before pausing. “Madam Ambassador, may I be blunt?” he asked in suddenly serious tones.

Leandra raised an eyebrow. “Of course, Amadeo. What’s on your mind?”

The dark-haired man took a moment to respond. “Ma’am, I just wanted to say it’s been a pleasure serving with you...and that I understand why you’ve decided to move on. You may not want to hear this but I believe you’ve done a lot of good during your tenure.”

“I didn’t make so much as a dent, not after twelve years,” she snorted. “The Triumvirate have created their perfect little society, and nothing is allowed to rock the boat.” Her features softened, as she regarded him. “But thank you, for your kind words.”

“I beg to differ, Ma’am,” he replied. “I believe the Ministers were listening to you. They just couldn’t bring themselves to accept it.” He shrugged, sparing a moment to glance into the sky. “Their entire culture...their entire history...is wrapped around the central tenet they have created the perfect society. Their minds aren’t able to accept any data that conflicts with that.” He spread his hands out in an almost Gallic gesture, before cocking his head in curiosity. “You know, something has always puzzled me.”

“Oh? What’s that?” Leandra asked him.

He pointed up at the night sky, at the odd greenish overcast at the distorted stars. “Their planetary shields. Why do they even need them? Are they that fearful of meteorites?”

She paused for a moment, before looking back up at the sky. “You know, we’ve never gotten a good answer to that,” she admitted. “They’ve been up there so long, I’m not sure they even remember why they created them.”

Amadeo chuckled. “They’re not alone in that. Did you ever hear the story about the flower of Catherine the Great?”

Leandra stared at him in confusion. “A flower? No, I don’t think so.”

His grin grew wider. “According to the legend, Otto von Bismarck was visiting the Tsar’s Summer Palace in St. Petersburg, while serving as the Prussian Ambassador. One day he noticed a guard standing watch in the middle of a meadow. Being a military officer, he knew there was no reason for a sentry to be standing alone in a field so he made inquiries, and everyone he asked said the same thing; ‘We have always had a guard posted there.’” His eyes twinkled with delight as he waited for her reaction.

The Ambassador tried to play it off, but curiosity got the better of her. “All right, I’ll bite. Why was a guard posted in the middle of a meadow?”

Her assistant chuckled once again. “They managed to track down an old pensioner, who recalled a story told to him by his father when he was a boy. As he told it, Catherine the Great was on a walk one day when she spotted a daffodil, the first one that spring. She ordered a guard to stand watch so no one would trample it...” He paused for dramatic effect, “...one hundred years earlier.”

She stared at him in disbelief, before a giggle broke free. The more she tried to stifle it the worse it got, until there were tears in her eyes as she staggered against the railing in fits of laughter. Amadeo laughed right along with her until she could get herself back under control again. “Oh, that’s perfect!” she snickered. “Do you think it’s true?”

Riese grinned once more. “I don’t know. I hope it is. There’s something about the sheer absurdity of it that appeals to my belief in the perverse nature of the Universe.”

Leandra wiped her eyes, before placing a hand on his arm. “Thank you,” she told him, “I needed that.”

“Anytime, Madam Ambassador,” he smiled, holding up the tablet. “I’ll send this out immediately.” Amadeo gave her a brief polite bow. “Goodnight, Ma’am.”

“Goodnight,” she replied, as he disappeared back the way he came, leaving her alone with her thoughts once more. Part of her would miss this place, but she was already looking forward to the views of Zion.

Dhyaksh Jiyazh Ghuuyaz stood on the bridge of the flagship Oathkeeper, filled with pride as he looked out at the fleet. They had drawn first blood, and while the engagement had been brief it had also been satisfying. The fleet had responded quickly to the flurry of unmanned craft, quickly dispatching them before they could escape, allowing them to keep the advantage of surprise. They could not keep their presence a secret forever, but as long as they could he had every intention of using it to maximum effect. He could sneak into the enemy’s camp like a thief in the night, hitting one isolated outpost after another, but the warrior within rejected that option immediately. They hadn’t fired a single weapon in retaliation, not one, and if that was true on the fringes of his territory, what awaited them when they struck at the adversary's very heart?

A cold smile appeared on his face, as he turned to his Helmsman. “What is the distance to the nearest core world?”

The Helmsman took a moment to check his display. “We could be there in less than two days’ time, Dhyaksh.”

“Then do so,” he commanded, as the fleet adjusted course.

Soon, his mind whispered, you will taste my blade.

Soon you will know real fear.