My daddy served in the army

Where he lost his right eye

But he flew a flag out in our yard

'Til the day that he died

He wanted my mother, my brother, my sister and me

To grow up and live happy

In the land of the free

Now this nation that I love

Has fallen under attack

A mighty sucker punch came flyin' in

From somewhere in the back

Soon as we could see it clearly

Through our big black eye

Man, we lit up your world

Like the 4th of July

Toby Keith - “Courtesy Of The Red, White, And Blue (The Angry American)"

“Well, Admiral...I am uncertain the word ‘audacious’ does Operation Bankshot justice,” Jiyazh mused, as their combined fleets sat in the outer reaches of the Zhis system.

Admiral Otxoa smiled. “The key is keeping the Masters’ off our back while we prepare. So far, they’ve shown no interest in poking their nose this far out, but if they get wind of what we’re up to, that’ll change. Setting this up will take time, but once we get things moving…” Her grin grew even wider, “...nothing is stopping us.”

The Dhyaksh scrutinized the plans once more. “So...what do you require from us?”

“For starters, we’ll need your engineers, all you can spare. There’s a hefty supply list, which means shuttles to transport everything. But most importantly...we need a smokescreen.”

The Khonhim leader nodded, scratching his cheek. “The Masters are likely to wonder why we remain in the system without attacking.” He considered the problem for a moment. “Then I would suggest a series of drills, mock battles between our forces. Let them believe we are preparing for a conventional assault and are using the time to train our warriors.” He gave her a smile. “And we will require such coordination. While our respective forces fought side by side briefly in the last war, we would be better served if our fleets were truly integrated when the battle comes.”

“I agree, but that leaves us with a rather important question that needs answering,” the human said. “Who will be in overall command?”

Jiyazh chuckled. “Among my people, the question would be a simple one. We would draw blades and see who remains standing.” His eyes twinkled with delight as he saw her reaction. “I presume your people would object to such an arrangement?”

“Just a bit,” she replied, before sighing. “I discussed this possibility with Marshal Fujimoto. As you are the senior officer, in both rank and length of service, and given that Zhis is a Khonhim world...I am to accept your command.” She seemed to be rather less than thrilled by this.

“Hélène always was pragmatic about such things,” he chuckled, “though she had no greater love of combining forces than you do, Admiral. I accept command of the joined fleet...and appoint you to be my Second.” The twinkle in his eyes grew mischievous. “Among the Khonhim, the duties of the Second include informing the commander when he is in error, and if necessary...removing him from the position.”

An eyebrow went up at that. “And by removing, you mean…?”

The Khonhim drew a finger across his throat. “...permanently,” he grinned.

That got a chuckle out of the human. “I think I’m warming up to this idea,” she smirked.

“I thought you might,” Jiyazh smirked in reply. “So...how long until we can proceed?”

“At least a few weeks,” she grimaced. “But when we’re ready, and this gets underway...I’ll show you why Sir Isaac Newton is the deadliest son-of-a-bitch in space.”

“There must be something we can do,” Nassat vowed, as he looked over the two fried Ronin brains. “Some way to prevent them from carrying out their suicidal programming.”

“I don’t see how,” Graybird replied. “The Ronin are resistant to both EMP and electrical shock, and those are the only two ways I can think of immobilizing one long enough to examine it.”

Commander Xeemvois’ wings fluttered. “You say ‘resistant’,” he mused. “That is not the same thing as ‘immune’.”

“Not it’s not,” the hacker agreed, “and if we turned up the juice, we could overwhelm their circuits...for all the good it would do.” He sighed. “Because the power levels you’re talking would burn them out just as effectively as their suicide protocol would.”

“There’s got to be another option,” Tango growled. “What if we dumped a load of wet cement on one, or something similar?”

“It’ll keep them from running off. It won’t keep them from suiciding,” Graybird said. “Nice try though.”

Nassat turned to the human hacker. “Is there some way to disconnect their brain from its power supply?” he asked.

“It’s internal,” he answered. “I’d have to open up the brain, and they’d suicide long before I could shut it off.”

“Then there are no other options left,” Xeemvois said quietly. “Marshal Fujimoto will order Operation Blackout...and murder the entire Ronin race.”

“It’s not like she wants to,” Tango snapped, “but once we lost the Quarantine, it became a question of self-preservation.”

Nassat’s head came up in a start, as he looked at the blonde human. “...say that again,” he insisted.

Tango blinked. “Say what again?”

“What you were just saying about the Quarantine,” he pressed her.

She shook her head. “All I said was that it’s about survival now.”

“No...you said it was about self-preservation,” Nassat shot back, as he got a faraway expression in his eyes.

“So?” Tango snorted. “What’s the difference?”

“...preservation,” he said with a start, as he jumped to his feet. “That’s it!”

“You’re not making any sense,” Graybird snorted.

Nassat pointed to his head. “Think about it. If you wish to preserve something, what do you do?”

“That would depend on what it was I was trying to preserve,” Xeemvois said after a moment. “I might encase it in some protective material, but Graybird has already said that would not work.”

“Freezing!” Tango said with a start, as she snapped her fingers. “That’s what you’re talking about!”

The Saurotaur bobbed his head. “Exactly. If we were to freeze a Ronin, would that not prevent it from activating the suicide protocol?”

“Um…” The human computer expert thought for a moment. “...maybe?” he ventured at last. “I mean, without testing it, I couldn’t be sure, but...I suppose it’s possible?” He pulled up a file on his workstation and studied it. “It’s not im-possible, but…” He scrolled to another section and then sighed. “Except there are two problems. The first is we’d have to do it fast. Like, in less than a second fast. Otherwise, they’d have time to recognize what was happening, and then...”

Tango nodded. “And the second?”

“The second problem is even trickier,” Graybird continued. “Depending on the temperature, we run a real risk of turning that Ronin brain into a superconductor...which means it can think even faster. Fast enough to suicide before we can shut it down.”

“I admit, this is all very interesting,” Xeemvois interjected, “but assuming for a moment you could find the correct temperature and shut one down...how would you go about that? Drop them into a tank of liquid Helium?”

“Wouldn’t work,” Graybird shook his head. “Not fast enough, and at that temperature, they’d definitely go superconductor.”

“Another liquid then,” Nassat suggested. “Nitrogen, or Hydrogen.”

“The problem is that it takes time to cool something off,” he sighed. “All those atoms bouncing around, they take time to slow down for this to work. You’d need something like...like...an anti-microwave oven...”

Graybird’s eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” he whispered, “that’s it!”

The others in the compartment stared at one another. “...what is it?” Nassat ventured.

The hacker ignored him, going back to his workstation and typing away until he finished with a wild flourish as he punched the Send icon. Nassat’s tablet beeped.

The General pulled it out of his tunic and gazed at the data he’d just been sent. “What is this?” he asked.

“The answer,” Graybird grinned. “Get me all of that...and I’ll get you your Ronin brain.”

Nassat perused the data for a moment...before handing it over to Tango.

“Expedite this immediately,” he ordered.