Us, and Them

And after all, we're only ordinary men

Me, and you

God only knows it's not what we would choose to do

“Forward!” he cried,

From the rear

And the front rank died

And the General sat,

As the lines on the map

Moved from side to side

Black, and Blue

And who knows which is which, and who is who

Up, and Down

And in the end, it's only round and round, and round

“Haven't you heard, it's a battle of words?”

The poster bearer cried

“Listen, son,” said the man with the gun,

“There's room for you inside.”

Pink Floyd - “Us and Them”

Prime Minister Singh was waiting in her private study as they ushered in Field Marshal Fujimoto. She waited until her aide closed the door, and then rose to her feet.

“You call me in the middle of the night, tell me it’s urgent, and then refuse to give me any details,” Leandra groused, as she waved her visitor to a chair, while she made her way to the sideboard. “You insist on speaking to me, and in private,” she continued, as she reached for a decanter and poured three fingers of amber liquid into the glasses, before carrying them over and handing one to her guest, before she seated herself. “I can only assume then, that it’s bad news.” She took a sip of her drink and then leaned back in her chair. “My only question is how bad?”

“Remember when the Khonhim attacked Earth and convinced the old guard to stage a coup?” the old warrior reminded her.

Leandra closed her eyes. “That bad.”

“...worse. Much worse, I’m afraid,” Hélène sighed. “I received a com from Matevosian. It seems there’s a new player in the game...and whoever they are, in less than an hour they gutted the Khonhim Home Fleet, shattered our Task Force, and took Gzuj.”

The Prime Minister nodded, taking it in. “I see now why you wanted a private meeting.”

The Marshal regarded her glass for a moment, and then threw it back, downing the 30-Year Laphroaig in one gulp before setting down her tumbler. “Leandra...I haven’t gotten to the bad news yet.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense,” the Minister snapped. “I’m not getting any younger.”

Hélène grimaced. “This new faction, whoever they are...they’ve done something to the Ronin. Turned them, somehow.”

“What do you mean, ‘Turned them’?”

“I mean that during the battle with this new faction, every Ronin in the fleet went crazy and started attacking our own people,” the Field Marshall spit out. “The Vipers started firing on the other ships of the Task Force, while the ones aboard the larger vessels started killing everyone they could get their hands on until we put them down.”

Leandra could only stare at her in shock, as Hélène pushed herself out of her chair and refilled her glass from the decanter. “Two of our cruisers…Triton and Phoenix...broke away from the fleet and were last seen heading this way.” She took another stiff belt, before turning back around. “We now believe them to be under Ronin control, and their intentions are unknown.”

“Dear God,” the Prime Minister whispered. “...how? Why?”

“We don’t know,” the Marshal admitted. “Matevosian has his people collecting evidence, but so far all he has is a lot of questions and no answers.”

“Well, has anyone questioned the Ronin?” Leandra fired back. “Maybe they can tell us something.”

“That will be a problem,” Hélène informed her, “since the only surviving Ronin in the entire Task Force are on those cruisers...and our Fleet Admiral lost sight of them three hours ago.”

The Prime Minister staggered, shaking her head as if she’d just gone a dozen rounds with the heavyweight champion. “Wait...just wait a minute,” she demanded. “Why are there no other surviving Ronin, and how the hell did he lose those ships?”

“Have you ever fought a Ronin?” the Field Marshal shot back. “They don’t have any weak points. They’re machines...and not one of them would stop trying to kill their former comrades until they were put down.” The emphasis she put on those last words hit the Prime Minister like a bucket of ice water.

“...you mean…” she whispered.

“I mean...that any Ronin who didn’t escape had to be killed. Deactivated. Whatever the proper term is,” she blustered. “As for your second question...the escaping Ronin removed every single safety interlock from the cruisers to gain speed. Matevosian estimates they’d hit 30g’s when they disappeared and were spewing enough gamma rays to melt a small moon.”

“But that would kill a…” Leandra began to say, only to have the words die in her throat when she understood what Hélène was telling her.

The Field Marshal nodded. “Yeah, it would kill anything biological in minutes...but a Ronin?” She shrugged. “They could survive it.”

The Prime Minister took a deep breath, and let it back out. “All right,” she said at last, “I understand the situation. So, where do we stand?”

Hélène sighed and collapsed back into her chair. “Matevosian believes...and based on what evidence we have, I’m inclined to agree...that whoever these newcomers are, they somehow…infected the Ronin with something. It didn’t happen all at once, proximity seems to have something to do with it, and if he’s right...”

She paused, staring into her glass. “If he’s right, then these Ronin are acting like some kind of vector...and they’re coming here to spread the contagion.”

This time it was Leandra who downed her glass before she went searching for a refill. She busied herself with the ritual of pouring her drink and replacing the stopper on the decanter before she turned back around.

“Then you must stop them,” she said at last, “by whatever means necessary.”

“Believe me, I’m well aware of that,” the Field Marshal replied. “The problem is that we have no idea where they are, and no idea where they’re going. They could be headed anywhere, and I can’t guard the whole damned border with what I have.”

“Meaning?” the Prime Minister prompted.

“Meaning that there’s only one way we have even a prayer of stopping them. If they’re returning here to spread this...virus, then their best target will be one of the Ronin homeworlds. Once they get in among the population, as fast as this thing spreads…” Hélène let out a long breath. “You can kiss that planet goodbye. I may not have enough ships to prevent them from entering our space, but I do have enough firepower to interdict the Ronin worlds.”

Leandra froze. “What are you saying?”

“That the only way we to stop this thing is to put every single Ronin-controlled planet under Quarantine. We blockade them. Nothing in, nothing out...not until we’ve stopped those ships.”

“...are you insane?” the Prime Minister hissed. “Do you have any idea the amount of traffic you’re talking about? Not to mention how the Ronin will react. They’ll go ballistic, accuse us of treating them like Lepers. You’re talking political suicide.”

“Political suicide?” the Field Marshal snorted. “You think that’s your biggest problem? Then try this one on for size. Imagine one of those ships landing on....ϒ12, for example. They get into the population, and this thing becomes a Pandemic. You’ll have billions of infected Ronin, who near as we can tell only do two things...infect other Ronin and kill everyone else.”

“Listen,” she snapped, “even I don’t have that kind of authority. It’s not just blockading the Ronin worlds; we’d have to shut everything down. There’s plenty of Ronin on other planets, you know...hell, do you know how many are right here in the Capitol?”

“Hundreds of thousands, at least,” Hélène answered. “We’d have to quarantine this planet, too.” Her eyes met Leandra’s. “And you’re wrong...you do have the authority. You’ve just never chosen to wield it before.”

The Prime Minister jabbed her finger at her subordinate. “No...no, I am not declaring Martial Law. We made it through two wars and a Coup without pulling that trigger. I just need time to prepare…”

“Time is the one thing we don’t have,” the Field Marshal fired back. “I figure those ships will be in Tetrarchy space in two weeks, and when they get here, if I can’t find them, or stop them...then you, Prime Minister, will have a goddamn bloodbath on your hands. You thought the images of rampaging Khonhim were bad? Or the attack on Earth? Just wait until every camera in the sector is recording psychotic Ronin ripping everyone else into pieces.”

Leandra’s hand clenched around the tumbler, her knuckles going bone white. “Goddamnit!” she shrieked, as she hurled her glass against the far wall. It shattered on impact, exploding like a bomb.

To her credit, Hélène didn’t flinch. “This has to happen, Prime Minister. At least until we find those ships. We stop them in time, and we can go back to the way things were.”

She looked away, refusing to meet her gaze. “That’s where you’re wrong,” she snarled. Leandra rose to her feet and stalked over to the window, gazing out over the alien city.

“...things will never go back to the way they were.”