“…And so by reverse engineering the virus designed to target Titans, but not humans, we were able to synthesize a vaccine to counter-act the related plague that was designed to affect humans but not Titans. Are there any questions?”

Dr. Nick Archer was currently in Melbourne, Australia in order to give a lecture on the treatments developed during the Avalonian Pandemic and the challenges of maintaining the health of a society that had been frozen at roughly the same technological level as medieval Europe. Sophia was also with him to tour the campus of the University of Melbourne, one of Australia’s oldest colleges and compare notes with the various department heads.

The slide projector shut down and Nick turned to face the packed lecture hall. While not every hand in the room was raised, at least three quarters of them were.

Nick sighed. He rather doubted that all of the people in front of him were there to discuss the artificial pathogen that had been unleashed on Avalon (and the one that almost had.) Unfortunately, this second lecture tour hadn’t been nearly as positive as the one he and Sophia had undertaken in the months after First Contact. The general public’s opinions on Titans had soured considerably, and the release of that accursed video to the entirety of the Earth’s population certainly had not helped.

In fact, outside of the lecture hall, Nick could still hear the angry chants of the gathered protestors who were objecting to the presence of… ahem… a “Titan Fucker.”

Nick braced himself for the inevitable, but pointed to one man in the second row.

The selected person moved down the center aisle and towards a microphone that had been set up near the stage. “Dr. Archer, I was wondering if you’ve seen the ‘Faces of Death video?” The asker appeared to be a student in his mid-twenties. Nick held down his anger at the rather sarcastic tone the man had used with his title.

That was also a new obstacle that Nick and Sophia had found themselves facing. Various academic bodies had begun to question whether their titles were actually legitimate. The fact that Nick had been practicing medicine, and Sophia teaching, for longer than any of their detractors had been alive or that they had each built their disciplines from practically nothing, was apparently moot.

They didn’t get their degrees from Earth, so they didn’t “count.” Or so the argument went.

“Yes I have.” Nick answered. “Next question.”

“Dr. Archer,” The undergraduate continued relentlessly. “Given what was in the video, the horrific acts committed by the Titans, how can you possibly suggest that we, that humanity trust them?”

Nick sighed and leaned against the lectern in front of him. He really was getting too old for this sort of thing. He glanced to the side of the auditorium stage where Sophia was waiting for him just beyond the curtain. She shrugged helplessly and he could see how exhausted she was over all this as well.

“I am not and have never advocated for blind trust of Titans or their government. But I certainly do feel there is an avenue through which mutual cooperation can be achieved. My own life is proof of that.”

“That seems a little naïve.”

Nick’s jaw twitched and he gripped the edge of the lectern until his knuckles turned white.

“Naïve?” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Okay. Then allow me to ask you a question. The Titan depicted swallowing a man alive; do you know what her name is?”

The student blinked and scratched the back of his neck in confusion. “I think she said her name was… Trell? Something like that?”

“Yes. Something like that.” Nick snapped. “Her name is Trell Pria. So what else do you know about her? Where does she live? Does she have a family? Have you any idea what happened to her after that video was filmed? Do you think her to be an example of an ordinary Titan? A woman living in luxury, perhaps?”

“I… I don’t know any of that…” The man muttered. “How could I poss-”

“Do you know what the inside of her stomach looks like?” Nick interrupted bluntly.

“God no!”

“I do.” Nick’s voice cut across the room and everything seemed to quiet, even the constant shouts of the protestors seemed to mute. This was, understandably, not a chapter of his life he talked about much. Certainly not with anyone on Earth.

“Trell Pria swallowed me, whole and alive. It is thanks to Titans that I am here today to tell you that. She’s dead now, her stomach blown out by a young man who she also swallowed, along with several explosive devices. Before that, though, she was arrested by the Archavian government and imprisoned. Why? Because they, like you, saw what she did to that man, and me, as horrifying beyond belief. She was not considered an ‘ordinary Titan’ but a criminal.

“Young man, while you- and your parents, and your grandparents- were all living safe on this planet, I and others like me have been working tirelessly to prove to Titans that humanity was worthwhile. And the funny thing is? For the most part, we succeeded. I won’t deny that Titans have done horrible things. I also won’t deny that Titans are still doing horrible things. But the truth of the matter is: they were not doing those things to Earth.

“You haven’t the slightest inkling of which you speak.” Nick continued acidly. “Nor do those blasted protesters outside. Yes, Titans owe a great deal of reparations to humans, but they owe that to the humans who have lived within the Empire itself. To Earth and the people living safe on this planet, they owe very little, if anything at all. You call me naïve, yet I’ve seen the very best and the very worst the Titan race has to offer. And what’s more, I’ve seen it in the same damn bloodline. Now sit down.”

The silence that followed after his final word stopped ringing through the air was palpable. The questioner muttered something indistinct and then quickly retreated to his seat. No one replaced him at the microphone.

Nick sighed and wiped his glasses on his jacket before putting them back on his face. “And that’s all that I will say on the matter of Titans. Now, do any of you have questions on the actual topic of this lecture?”

* * *

Alex had to fight the impulse not to fly his hovercraft into the side of the mountain. He had Asteria, and he had Rixie, and that was all that kept him from succumbing. He wanted desperately for this to be a nightmare. He wanted desperately to find out it was some sort of trick. He wanted, more than anything, to find some way to make it all right, and there wasn’t a way.

More than anything, he wanted to avoid the conversation he was about to have.

He’d told Rixie. Called her from the office of the president. It had been awful, but an acceptable sort of awful. She felt like him, he knew, but Rixie was a soldier. Her training from her days in the Space Exploration and Imperators Corps was always a part of her, and while she hated Ryan being in harm’s way…he was a soldier, too. And so she had borne the news stoically, and told him that all they could do is hope that somehow, he’d survive the battle, and come home safe to them, and if not…well, if not, she knew he’d die giving the last full measure of his devotion.

Alex knew that too, but he had a very different perspective than his wife’s. She had been a fighter. He remembered how hollow it was to hear your loved one had died fighting.

His dad had saved others during the Fall of Kandahar. He received a Silver Star for his bravery. He’d been lauded as a hero, and there’d been an outpouring of grief in his hometown when he’d died. Alex had heard at least once a week, for the rest of his time on Earth, that his old man was a hero.

SSG Ryan Carey, his son’s namesake, had indeed died a hero, and Alex was proud of him. But Alex had been a 14-year-old kid, and as much as he’d wanted to celebrate his father’s heroism…all he’d ever really felt was the void of not having him anymore. The sacrifice was noble, and necessary, and he was proud of his father for making it. But he had always wished that someone else’s father could have gone instead.

The hovercraft touched down on its pad, just outside their apartment. He hesitated, but forced himself to open the door. Delay wouldn’t make this better. He knew that all too well.

Thyllia sat up from the couch where she’d fallen asleep and rubbed her eyes. “Oh.” She yawned. “Hello Alex. Yuri stole your daughter; she came over to help, Asteria woke up, and then she just took her home. Brinn encouraged it, if you want to blame someone.”

“That’s…fine. She does that.”

“She reminds me of me and Ryan,” Thyllia said with a grin. “I had a tendency to swipe him when he was little. I don’t think you have to worry about them getting married someday, though.”

When Alex didn’t immediately follow that up with a one-liner, Thyllia sat up straight. That wasn’t like him. Not at all. “Uh…so…did your errand in the city go alright?”

Alex swallowed and tried to decide the best way to go about this. He wouldn’t hide this from Thyllia. Technically, he was supposed to – he didn’t officially know this, of course – but she deserved to know the truth just as much as he and Rixie had. “Oh, um, yeah, it’s….Thyllia would… would you….”

What had started as a mild concern suddenly became near-panic. She’d never seen Alex like this. He’d always been strong. Stronger than Thyllia’s mother-in-law, even.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, hoping against hope that she was reading the man standing on the windowsill wrong.

Alex found he couldn’t talk right away. He shook his head. This was hard enough. The size difference wasn’t helping.

“Just… wait a moment,” he finally spat out. He bounded to the small replica of their apartment, and a moment later a Titan sized hologram appeared. Alex crossed the room and sat down next to Thyllia.

“Okay, now I know something is wrong.” Thyllia observed.

Alex nodded. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thyllia… It’s about Ryan.”

“What’s the matter? Is he okay? Is he hurt?” Thyllia’s hand gripped the edge of the cushion on which she sat.

“I don’t know.” Alex reached out and placed his hand over hers. “You know he’s been away working with JEADI.”

“Yeah, on Earth.”

“Not on Earth,” Alex said. “He’s been on Tau Ceti conducting experimental tests on some new weapon that Avalon and Earth have been developing. They put the project on Tau Ceti because they figured it would be out of the way, and no one would be looking there.”

“Well, they’re probably right.” Thyllia muttered. She wasn’t necessarily happy that she’d been lied to, but Ryan was military, it was part of the job. If that was all, it wouldn’t matter, but it that was all, Alex wouldn’t be this upset.

“Alex… what’s the bad news?” The young woman whispered nervously.

“Insectoids have entered Imperial space.” Alex choked on the words. “And it appears…that they are in the Tau Ceti system.”

Thyllia’s hand gripped his tightly and for a moment Alex was afraid she might just pass out. “We…the military…how?”

“Rixie said Vanser contacted Aerti. He was on his way, along with Gama Fleet.”

“Well, good. They’ll stop them, right?”

Alex took another deep breath. The desperation in Thyllia’s voice cut him right to the core, probably because it cut right where his desperation already had. “I don’t know… from what I’ve been told the insectoids’ numbers are…they’re overwhelming. It…it doesn’t look good, Kiddo. Not for Tau Ceti. Maybe not for Earth and Avalon.”

The last remaining vestiges of Thyllia’s composure cracked. The Titan woman let out an anguished sob and collapsed onto Alex’s shoulder. Her entire body wracked with grief and Alex held her close, even as his own emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

For a long, long moment, Thyllia felt nothing but anguish and horror. But as she became aware of her thoughts again, she realized they were racing, orbiting around a single phrase that echoed sickeningly in her memory.

“But when your precious human husband is being eaten by an Insectoid, remember that I warned you.”

She could sneak in a weapon, but that would be difficult. Could she convince the Emperor to look the other way? Maybe. She could talk to Pryvani….

Alex felt the woman tighten, and her anguished cries ceased. She pulled back, and her face was no longer much like that of the pleasant girl she had always been. This face…it looked familiar, but not on her.

“If…if Ryan dies from this,” Thyllia growled, “I am going to kill my mother. She threatened me with this. She has something to do with this. If he dies, then I will kill Syon Fand myself, and I will make it as painful and awful as she deserves.”

Alex looked at her carefully, wiping his own tears with one hand while he held on to her with the other. “I don’t want to tell you not to kill Syon,” Alex said, “but Tee, you don’t want to give up your future to do it.”

“The frak I don’t!” Thyllia said, wrenching away. “My future. My future? What the frak good is my future if Ryan isn’t a part of it!?”

Alex looked at her, and sighed. He knew how he would feel, if Rixie’s life was in danger. He’d felt it far too much.

“For one thing,” Alex said, “Pryvani and Zhan would miss you. Your nieces and nephews would miss you. Asteria would miss you. Rixie would miss you. I would miss you, you think about that?” He threw his arms wide. “Thyllia, I’m the idiot who failed here, don’t you dare.”

“You failed?” Thyllia said. “Syon told me she would hurt Ryan. She told me the insectoids would eat him. I thought she was bluffing….”

“His mom – his birth mom – she died, to save him, Tee,” Alex said, slumping backward. “She died so Rixie and I could take him and keep him safe. And we didn’t. It was my job, and I failed.”

Alex’s words broke through the shell of anger that had momentarily encased Lady Fand. She stopped, and walked over to the couch, and slumped down on it herself. “Alex,” she said, gently, “you shouldn’t use that hologram so much.”

“Huh? Why?”

She smiled, just a tiny bit. “It’s got you thinking like a Titan.”

Alex blinked, and he laughed through his tears. “I know,” he said. “Ryan always has thought his mom worried too much. But really it was me. I just….”

“His birth mom gave her life so he could live,” Thyllia said. “Then he went and lived with you and Rixie, and you both have risked your lives to keep others safe. He…he’s the person I love…because you let him become someone who would put himself between a bullet and an innocent person. Because you let him be Ryan, no matter the risk.”

She blinked back tears, until she couldn’t hold them back. She stammered out, barely, “Thank you, Alex. For making him who he is. And maybe, just maybe, you and Rixie…you’ve pulled through some close calls.”

“You don’t know the half of it, kid,” Alex said.

“Well. He’s your son. He got a sense of honor, and duty, and humor from you. I’m just going to hope that maybe…he got a bit of your luck, too.”

Alex smiled. “He married you, Tee.”

“Not officially,” Thyllia said. “Not yet.”

“Sure, just like Rixie and I weren’t married before it was ‘official.’ He married you, Thyllia. Gorram right no way he managed that without some of our luck. So,” he said, walking over and grabbing a set of glasses, and two bottles, one blue, one red, “let’s toast my son and your husband, and hope like hell we get to tell him how you almost killed Syon Fand.”

Thyllia took the drink, and raised her glass, and drank deep. “Just that one,” she said. “I’m going to go talk to Pryvani. Not about killing Syon. About what has to be done next.”

Alex nodded. “And I should get my daughter.”

“Like hell,” Thyllia said, repeating one of her fiancé’s – husband’s – Ryan’s favorite epithets. “Yurea will watch Asteria, and so will Brinn.”

“Not gonna make her,” Alex said. “Joseph is on Tau Ceti, Thyllia. Nick and Sophia are on Earth. Ryan’s what hurts most for me….”

“And me,” Thyllia said. “But you’re right.” She stood up. “I’m going to talk to Pryvani. I’ll tell Brinn and Zara and Taron – maybe with Pryvani for backup. But you’re not going to be watching Asteria alone, Alex.”

“I’m her father, I can manage.”

“No,” said Thyllia, finding the core of resolve that was her birthright as a daughter of Syon Fand. “Everyone on Tayas Mons is connected. We’re all a family. We’re going to face this as a family.”

Alex smiled, and raised his glass. “You’re a lot smarter than I am, Thyllia.”

“Not remotely,” she said. “Alex…I don’t even know what my relationship is with you. But you’ve always been there for me. Like an uncle, maybe. Or a bonus dad.”

“I’ll take father-in-law,” Alex said. “Whether it’s official or not. Whatever happens in the next few hours. You’ll always be my daughter-in-law, Tee, and Rixie’s too.”

“Like I said,” Thyllia said, embracing Alex. “Family.”

* * *

Lali Berisen leaned forward as his guest arrived. He wondered if he should give them credit for this. They didn’t really know how he would react, or how the Empire would react. They might expect him to kill this envoy. Then again, he didn’t think they’d care much. All the time he’d dealt with their kind, he’d come to believe they viewed individuals like he’d view an avatar in a hologame – uttlerly expendable.

Still, he rose as protocol demanded, and said, “Ambassador Ksnxkkt, thank you for coming. Please sit down.”

The mantid bowed slightly. “Minister of State Berisen,” its translator chirruped. “We have come as you demanded.”

“Indeed. Ambassador…the Empire demands to know why you have invaded our sovereign space.”

The Mantid twitched briefly. “System 998 is of the Hive.”

“Tau Ceti does not belong to the Hive. You may claim it, but it lies behind the agreed treaty line, a treaty you said you would abide by. Your decision to violate that line breaks our treaty.”

“Your species is not [untranslatable] System 998. It is a colony of creatures of System 1006.”

Berisen glanced down at his pad briefly, then back up. “Earth didn’t found that colony. The Empire did.”

“It is a colony of System 1006. They have told you [untranslatable] not protect them. You have no [untranslatable] System 1006 or System 998 or System 39,742, or any other system that is of the small bipedal mammals.”

“A threat to these systems is a threat to us. We will not allow you to take them. We have told you that.”

“The small bipedal mammals have told told you [untranslatable] not protect them. We will harvest them, and take these worlds. If you do not interfere, we will not attack you.”

“Until you’re ready,” Berisen said. “Until you believe you can take other systems of ours.”

“We will not attack you,” the mantid repeated, “if you will not interfere.”

“For how long?”

The mantid tilted its head. “Until we do.”

Berisen shook his head. That had always been their response, since the treaty that followed the First Insectoid War. They had never pretended the peace was forever. They had always told the Empire that they would invade again, and take what was theirs, when the time was right. When they assumed the Empire would or could not fight back.

“You need to understand,” Berisen said, coolly, “that while Earth has reacted angrily to parts of our history – and reasonably so, given their perspective – this disagreement does not mean we have lessened our commitment to defend the Sol Earth system, or the borders of the Empire. If you do not cease hostilities and return to Hive Space, we will be forced to attack you. If you continue toward Earth, we will be forced to attack you. We demand that you lift the communications blackout on the Tau Ceti System, and allow us to talk to our people there, immediately.”

The mantid would have chuckled if it were a Titan – and if Insectoids understood humor. “We will not lift our blackout. We are taking what we have said we would take. We will not attack your species if you do not attack ours. This will be [untranslatable] until there is a change. You do not have enough warriors to stop us and deal with your [untranslatable] hive. You will make the rational choice to allow us to take these systems.”

“The rational choice? Is that what you think?” Berisen said. “Ambassador…your people truly do not understand mine.”

* * *

“We have to assume that the Secretary-General is dead,” said Saburo Matsumoto, the Japanese Prime Minister and Japan-Korea representative.

“Even if she isn’t,” Noah Morgan, the European president added, “we can’t reach her.”

“But if she’s alive, the actions we take would be void,” said Ellanorah Sheridan. Undersecretary Sheridan was Ridgemont’s Chef de Cabinet. She’d been her Chief of Staff when she was Vice President, and managed her presidential and secretarial campaigns. They weren’t best friends, but only because the sort of friendship they had didn’t fit neatly into a “best friends” frame. Short of losing her family, no loss would have hurt her more than Elaine’s. It was only because she knew that this is where Elaine would want her – looking out for her interests – that she was here.

“Possibly so,” Undersecretary Bachchan, the legal counsel to the Secretariat, said. “If we did so in good faith….”

“Enough!” a voice roared over the speakers from an irate African first minister. “Yes, we know, Secretary-General Ridgemont is lost, as is Sasha Bogomolov, and Premier Phạm, and President Cabello, and Undersecretary Xylander…and Admiral Xú,” Tatenda said. “These are our friends, our colleagues, our leaders. We all are terrified for them. But we cannot allow their absence to paralyze us. Not now.”

“There is no precedent….” Bachchan began, but Tatenda cut through him.

“Yes, yes Rajender, we all know there is no line of succession for Secretary-General! We all know the if’s and but’s that we could face if we act without one! But we also know that in a few hours, an army of monsters may be on its way here. We do not have time to worry about legality. Now, I do not always agree with Chancellor Batari, but she is the only one of us other than the Secretary-General who has been elected to lead one of the UN organs. I suggest that Chancellor Batari be allowed to exercise the duties of Secretary-General until, God willing, Secretary-General Ridgemont is able to. And unless there are objections, let us stop handwringing and get going!”

“I concur,” said Aygün Talibova, who was serving as representative for the Commonwealth of Independent States. “We must move quickly. There was a plan in place for invasion, bəli?”

“Yes,” said Elsa Stefánsdottir, the Undersecretary for Peacekeeping Operations, who was standing in for Esmée Xylander. “We have command procedures in place in the event of a threat to Earth as a whole. Defense Plan Omega was agreed to by the Security Council, however…this will require the Secretary-General’s approval.”

It took Batari just a moment to realize Elsa was referring to her. “Of…of course. Yes, I approve this,” she said, wondering why she had ever aspired to lead anything.

“Initial defense will come through the JTSA,” Elsa continued. “Dr. Chandrasekhar, are you the current acting Flight Director?”

Mukta, listening in from Houston, shook her head. “Under ordinary circumstances, yes, but I am not really a command line officer. I am remaining as an advisor, but for now I’ve passed command over to Counter-Admiral Nejem.”

“Thank you. Admiral Nejem, you are there with her?”

“Yes, I am,” Hala said. “And let me just say, thank you so very much for kicking the Titans out of this system! I have contacted Centurium Starati on Titan Station, and she has seven shuttlecraft with field-clearing lasers that she has graciously agreed to use in our defense. And I’m currently debating whether I should ask fourteen Titan pilots to engage in a suicide mission or tell them to save themselves, because while they will be not even a speed bump, they’re the only asset I can lay hands on that has any defensive capability whatsoever.”

There was a momentary silence, before Hala’s former superior officer quietly said, “Admiral Nejem, frustration will not save us.”

“No, First Minister Marechera. I’m sorry, sir,” she said, quietly. “We will do all we can. We are currently prepping the Orion for launch; it’s a year away from being ready, but it has basic life support up and running, its engines are online, and it does have a rail gun. It’s the only ship in our inventory with offensive capabilities. We do have plans for suicide runs, and all crews of Alcubierre class ships are prepared for them. Our best guess, based on what we know, is that we can maybe take out a few fighters. But realistically, unless the Empire can stop them before they get here, they will be able to breach the atmosphere.”

“Who will command the Orion?” Elsa asked.

“I will,” Hala replied. “Once the Orion is destroyed, so is the JTSA. At least our space operations. From there…Dr. Chandrasekhar will be the best leader you have for what’s left. And she does have a few tricks up her sleeve.”

Mukta nodded. “There is a power source,” she said. “I…I will need to have permission to discuss this freely, Chancellor.”

“This will be a fight for our lives, doctor,” Batari said. “I think I know what you’re referring to. Please continue.”

“We have developed a weapon. Unfortunately, it is on Tau Ceti. Fortunately, that means our forces are engaged in the defensive battle there.”

“What kind of weapon?” asked Morgan.

“They are air/space fighters, code named Acolyte. We worked with the Avalonians, they had materials science capabilities we did not. They use a power source that is based on a novel physics discovery, one that returns more energy than the mass equivalent of light squared.”

“That is…not possible,” Tatenda said.

“It is,” Mukta said. “I was actually working on publishing…it was Dr. Freeman’s discovery. He held it close, because there is an obvious danger inherent in this. The fighters are very powerful and quick. Together, they have…well, significant power at their disposal. Potentially enough to take on a capital ship.”

“Can we utilize this tech here?” Tatenda asked.

“No,” Mukta said, “not the way we have with the Acolytes. Controlling it is very difficult. It will take years to perfect it, even knowing what we know. But if worst comes to worst, controlling it will not be our problem.”

“An explosive,” Morgan said. “But an uncontrolled one, more powerful than an antimatter bomb….you could destroy a planet.”

There was a very grave silence, for a very long moment. “Let us save that,” Batari finally said, “for the point at which no hope remains. And I say the same about nanomachines. So as hope remains, what is our plan?”

“General Akimoto has been in charge of our planning for an insectoid invasion,” Elsa said. “General?”

From Japan, the Chief of Staff, Joint Staff of the Japan Self Defense Forces spoke up. “We have some good intelligence on the capabilities of the Insectoids,” Akimoto said. “They are dangerous, but mortal. If there is good news…it is that they wish to invade Earth so they can eat us. That means that they will not bomb us from the skies – they want as many humans alive as they can secure. Also, they will be using gravity compensators, which creates a vulnerability. That does not mean that they are easy prey; based on the information we have, they will send up to half a billion warriors against us, each the size of a six-story building, with phase cannons that have the power of a guided missile. Those that land will be dangerous. And many will land. But it is on land that we have our best chance of striking back. Once on land, they will cause a great deal of damage, as will we trying to fight them off. But we are not doomed. From simulations, we feel that there is a fifty percent chance that Earth will survive.”

“What are the casualty rates in those simulations?”

Akimoto sighed. “I said survive, President Marechera, not win. Our best-case scenario is 87 percent.”

“We would lose 13 percent of the population of Earth?” Batari asked, horrified.

“No…no….13 percent of the population of Earth would survive. Under our best-case scenario…about nine billion humans will perish.”

Batari swallowed hard. “And the worst case?”

Akimoto grunted. “There might be more survivors under the worst-case, at least for a time…but I wouldn’t trade with them. I have had the honor of talking with Secretary Xanthopolous; I do not intend to be eaten alive.”

“Is there any point to surrendering?” asked the American president, Tony Woods.

“You have heard of the Titan colony at Sperikos?” Tatenda asked. “They sterilized the planet because of what they faced if they surrendered. Like General Akimoto…I would rather die fighting that feed our children to them.”

“Do we have any word from the Empire?” Chancellor Batari asked, after a long moment.

“Not yet,” Hala said. “With luck…they will hold their line. They will contact us as soon as they know more.”

“Well,” Batari Iman said, quietly, “I do not believe we can wait. General Akimoto, under the plan, you are the high commander of Earth forces, correct?”

“I am, Chancellor. If you believe me fit for it.”

“I do,” Batari said, “I authorize you to prepare our defenses. Fight them with everything we have, to the last person. To all the leaders on this call, place all your troops at General Akimoto’s disposal, based on the Defense Plan Omega guidelines. Begin preparing plans to evacuate the cities, beginning in six hours. I will be addressing the people of Earth within the hour,” she said. “Fi Aman Allah. Authu-Billah,” she muttered, then paused. “I am sorry, I know that religion….”

“If my gool is translating right, that’s a prayer for Allah to protect us, right?” Noah Morgan said.

“Yes, President Morgan,” Batari replied.

“Well, you know, I’m an atheist…but frankly…right now, this planet can use all the protection it can get.”