Mikkael Uksahkka stood in front of the board of investors with sweat dripping from his brow, his stiff collar felt extra tight, and his knees like they were going to buckle. He rested a hand on the table, and with all the gumption he could muster he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes.

“The political climate is tense, I understand that. But political climates will be tense from time to time – what matters is the underlying market, and that remains outstanding. Take our company – business for Tannith Ley/K/A/P/Δ has never been better. We tripled our projected income after the Zeramblin Act was passed, and that isn’t even taking into consideration what our numbers will be with Avalon as an official Imperial Province – early sales are through the roof. The cusp of change is upon us, friends. Imperial humans continue to earn more, and that means they will be looking for brands they can buy, brands that they can feel good about. This is the time for investment, folks, not a moment later!” Mikkael spoke with passion, but his mother he was not.

The faces of his audience were a mix of bored, amused and frustrated. While it was true, business and commerce had a tendency to thrive, even in the most uncertain times, the shit had hit the fan, associating oneself with the empire was career suicide, nobody was willing to take that risk.

“If you think I’m going to push for a trade alliance…no, if you think I’m gonna drop a single uni on a world that murders human beings, you got another thing coming!” a voice from the large square table broke in, while another stood up to leave.

“How many titans does Tannath/K/A/P/Δ employ? How many human beings are kept as slave labor? How do we know your business practices are ethical?” another asked. “Back when my country was developing, rich countries loved to use us for poverty-wage labor. Are you suggesting we use the humans in the Empire like that? Or worse, are you suggesting you use us?”

“I assure you, our business practices are…”

One particularly vocal, robust older man stood and slammed his open palm on the tables surface. “Not now, not ever…do you hear me son…will I do business with those murdering sons of bitches!”

The room erupted in an assault of voices, each one trying to speak louder than the other. Mikkael felt small, smaller than he used to when his dad would bring his friends over to drink and compare war stories, smaller than he did standing before his relatives for his coming of age party, smaller than he did when he had to stand before a committee to declare his own personhood. He had lost control of the room, and on the cusp of his mother’s retirement, when she had trusted him to cradle her life’s work and take it unto himself, everything was slipping through his fingers.

He wanted to run, to hide someplace until the storm had passed. Panic had captured everyone’s common sense, there was little he could do from this point forward.

“Please…just listen!” Mikkael said over the shouting, but was unable to quell the storm.

“He isn’t even human!” one bold woman stood and pointed a withered finger at Mikkael.

“I heard he’s a half breed!” Another voice joined in.

“I…well…”

Where there had been a commotion, there now was chaos as the room erupted in an angry torrent of accusations and fears.

“Gentlemen!” A confident voice broke through the eruption of argument. “And Ladies too…” The voice of course belonged to Tapp, President Emeritus and former CEO of Tannith Ley/K/A/P/Δ. She was retired now, more or less, but she still held a stake in the company, and still commanded respect.

And this wasn’t just about the company. Not by a long shot.

As the room settled into a stunned silence, she took a quick moment to eyeball her son, and shamelessly adjust his tie, fix his hair, and straighten his collar, before turning back to the onlookers.

“If we are quite finished with our collective tantrum, I would like a moment of your time to set things straight here.” Tapp’s default, haughty expression drifted from occupant to occupant while emerald eyes look directly at each opposing set they came across.

“Just who are you anyhow?!” An older woman of Indian decent spoke up, with indignant outrage.

“Koranatappestrina Anghell Rozlan Debborruh Uksahkka.” She said, with the sort of exact pronunciation that suggested each syllable was just as important as the one that preceded it. She said nothing else to the woman, as if her name was simply all that was required.

“She’s the founder of Tannith Ley/K/A/P/Δ,” an older man muttered in response. “This ‘Interchange Alliance’ was her idea.”

Tapp ignored the murmurs, as her son stood in stuned silence, watching his mother, who to his previous knowledge wasn’t even supposed to be in this star system.

He should have been surprised, but with his mother…well, it wasn’t possible for anything she did to surprise him. His mother was on a mission, and when she set her mind to something, nothing in the known universe – not the Titans, not the Emperor, not the laws of physics or the vagaries of fate – that she would let stop her.

Tapp took her place at the head of the large rectangular table, and placed a thin data pad in front of her. She eyed it for a second, a flood of reservations came to the front of her mind, but she soon saw past that.

“The Interstellar Interchange Alliance is the kind of opportunity that will improve the prospects for humans in the Empire, on Avalon, and on Earth. It is not about slavery, not about degradation. Trust me, I know more about those than any of you can ever know, and have worked harder than any of you will ever have to in order to build my business, and to gain the respect that I and my company deserve. Now, I understand you are hesitant to expand trade with Avalon, and with the Empire, in the light of recent video footage that was released showing Titan Empire’s crimes against humanity.” Tapp’s tone was diplomatic on the surface, but the softness overlay a will of steel.

“It would ruin business for Indevola,” a balding Vietnamese man said. “I’ve worked too hard and too long to bring my corporation to where it is today, to let it go down because of those gigantic intergalactic bullies!” He sat down, and shook his head.

Tapp eyed the man for a moment, while her finger danced on the rim of her data pad. Her lips curled into a sympathetic frown, though her voice betrayed how she really felt. “Please, do make time for this story at a later date, I would absolutely love to hear your rags-to-riches story. I’m sure it’s as good as that of a woman born and bred to be a pet. But for the moment, let’s say you humor me. One intergalactic pile of horse crap at a time, m’kay?”

The tension in the room began to stir once more, that is until Tapp activated the projector on her data pad, which displayed a three dimensional likeness of a rather terrifying Mantis-like beast.

It stood slightly larger than a fully grown man, with large blade like wings, and sword like appendages hanging in front of its dripping mandibles. It emitted only a clicking sound that came when it’s thin barbed legs moved, and seemed to watch the room with large, round, green and violet compound eyes.

The businesspeople reacted in shock at the image, until they processed it, at which point their mood changed to annoyance and disdain. The creature was fake – everyone had seen holoprojections a million times before. Still, Tapp seemed to have a plan as she strutted over to the image, and stood before it, to emphasize its size in relation to her own.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” a rather irritated woman spat. A few others grumbled.

One man looked away from the projection. It was fake, he knew it was fake. But it still bothered him.

Tapp had found her victim.

* * *

“Three hours since loss of signal,” said Grand Navarchos Fasobi. “We have to assume that Gama Fleet is engaged. Aerti Bass would have sent a ship out of jamming range if he had one to spare.”

Qorni looked over her notes. “How long until our other ships are in position?”

“Captain Los has the Minatar one hour out of 39Π777.”

“Who’s he?” Qorni asked.

“Arna Los, Madam Floor Leader. One of our best. He’s been in command of the Minatar since 2118.”

“Not asking for a biography. What’s his background? The name is familiar.”

“Los Textiles Interstellar, ma’am. His parents own it.”

“He’s a frakking Federationer? Are you insane, Grand Navarchos?”

Fasobi had not gotten where he was by bucking authority. His mother had been a Grand Navarchos, and his father a Captain; he’d learned when to hold his tongue from a very young age. Nevertheless, he stiffened, and turned.

“Madam Floor Leader, Arna Los would not have made it to Captain if he were at all susceptible to Jota Cesil’s bigotry. Of captains in this fleet, there are many I trust, but there are four that I would ask for if I had a mission that absolutely had to succeed. Drrntr on the Gorrk. Lauryna Gwenn on the Gyfjon. Cass Eusa on the Arutelae. And Arna Los on the Minatar. I’d wager anything that one of them will have my job in about twenty years, and if it’s Arna, he will shine.”

“I do not mean to insult him,” Qorni said. “But you must admit….”

“The Minatar is not our only asset,” Carva Lagvul said. “The Tannhauser Gate is en route, and will be there in two hours. The Atlantis is not officially out of shakedown, but Capt. Ntenae has been granted permission to leave the Talanis system and join the fleet, and will likely beat the Tannhauser Gate there. Capt. Los will remain in command of the task force until the Kopus and Beth Fleet arrive, which should be twelve hours. At that point, Navarchos Pasteni will assume command. And Selana Orbital One is prepping the Aspis. It will be ready within the day. Once ready, Navarchos Fasobi will be taking it to the front to assume personal command of the combined fleet.”

“At worst, we have ships there that can gather intelligence and fall back,” Fasobi said, “if Gama fleet fails to contain the threat, we will know quickly. Capt. Los has already dispatched sentinel drones. Anything that comes out of Tau Ceti will be seen by us as soon as it can be seen.”

Qorni nodded. “So I want to verify – you all do believe that we are at war, then.”

Lagvul nodded. “Madam Floor Leader, as I said…if Aerti Bass wasn’t fighting them, he’d let us know. If he is fighting them…he wouldn’t spare a ship to come tell us, and frankly, he shouldn’t. He’ll fight until he’s throwing rocks at them, and if he runs out of rocks, he’ll thrown his damn boots.”

“There is always debate about which Navarchos is the best tactician. Which is the best-organized, the best at putting together a battle plan,” Fasobi said. “But there’s nobody under my command more tenacious than Aerti Bass, Madam Floor Leader. If the bugs make it out of Tau Ceti, he will have taken every bit of hide off them he could.”

Qorni nodded. “All right. I do wonder if he was goaded into it…but that is a matter for us to solve politically. I’ve no doubt he engaged believing he had been authorized to, and from what I know of the man, and what you’ve said, I’m glad he’s on the tip of the spear. Assuming the worst, how quickly could the Insectoids fight their way through him?”

“It depends on a number of factors,” Lagvul said. “I would guess no more than twelve more hours. Less if they decide that Tau Ceti isn’t worth the effort. We’re keeping an eye on FleetComms for any report, we’ll let you know when we see anything.”

“Very well,” Qorni said. She looked over at her Minister of Defense. “Pane,” she said, “I will have to address the people. Let them know. But I want to be able to tell them more than ‘we’re fighting.’”

“Are you thinking of waiting until we have a report?”

Qorni nodded. “I don’t want to panic the people. I am hoping against hope I can deliver good news. But if I’m to deliver bad news…I want to give it to them straight.”

“I’ll alert the media to expect a live statement in twelve hours maximum, possibly sooner. Anything to tell them on background?”

“No,” Qorni said. “Not yet.”

“As you wish, Madam Floor Leader,” Pane said, getting up.

“Navarchos, Praetor Imperii…let me know if anything changes,” Qorni said. “I need to get back to my office and prepare. You both have my trust.”

“Thank you, Madam Floor Leader,” they both said, rising as she left.

“I don’t like her,” muttered Fasobi under his breath. Lagvul chuckled.

“Krem, we don’t have to like her. I’ll give her this, she’s letting us do our job. Now, as you said, twelve hours…can we get Beth fleet in place in time? If not….”

“A Kuklopes-class and two Tuaut-classes won’t do it. I know,” Fasobi said. “The honest answer, Carva? I don’t know. I’m just hoping. If not…we send them to Earth, and hope that Arna and his task force at least slow them down enough that we can beat them there.”

Lagvul sighed. “And if not?”

“If not…we’re good and frakked,” Fasobi said. “And Earth is going to bear the worst of it.”

* * *

Rixie had guided the Pygmalion into its berth on autopilot, both literally and figuratively.

Taron had offered to take her to Vorsha. A few hours ago, she had declined because she knew he’d probably want to go shopping and grab a bite while they were there, and she didn’t want to leave Alex alone with Asteria indefinitely. It wouldn’t be fair.

She was glad she’d declined now. Six times on her short trip back, she’d plotted a maximum-warp course to Tau Ceti. Six times, she’d held off, because the Pygmalion was not designed for heavy battles, she would likely only do more harm than good, and most of all, she needed a gunner.

If Taron had been on board, given that Joseph and Ryan were both at risk….

They were among the best strategists of their generation. Against a fully-armed hive ship, they stood no chance whatsoever. But they could have convinced each other that they were wrong, and….

…and she didn’t want to leave Alex alone with Asteria indefinitely. It wouldn’t be fair.

She boarded the tram from Rabtes spaceport, and headed home; she wanted to hold her husband and daughter and keep watching the FleetComms status refresh, and hope that it showed something other than “GAMA FLEET – UNKNOWN” at some point. She knew better than to expect an update on Ryan immediately. But at least if she knew how the fight had gone….

She stopped at the door; Alex had left a note on it. Well, to be specific, he’d typed in a note that was displaying on the screen next to the door. “Literally everyone is at Pryvani’s.”

Rixie sighed. She really didn’t want to go to Pryvani’s. She wasn’t sure she could bear everyone right now. But she shook her head as the door beeped, indicating it had recognized her face and confirmed her identity. The door didn’t open; instead, the message changed to, “You do too.”

She glanced down at her pad. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to have access to this. It was high-level intelligence. Only active-duty flag officers had access. But then, five active-duty flag officers had given her their passwords long ago, and not long after she’d told Vanser that her son was on Tau Ceti, she’d found that her own personal access code was active, courtesy the Praetor Imperii.

Hells, the way this was shaping up, it would be moot. If Ryan died, she’d volunteer for service before they inevitably recalled her – and they would. This kind of war…they would need everyone. There might be a draft before it was over.

She reached Pryvani and Zhan’s abode, and the door slid open automatically, as it did when Pryvani expected you and didn’t have time to greet you personally. Rixie walked into the entryway, and stopped, for just a moment.

There were dozens of people there. Alex was in the corner, human-sized; she could pick him out from a football pitch away. Zara was leaning on Taron, crying freely, while Brinn was doing her best to keep track of the younger kids. Odin was holding Manto, who was leaning against his chest, silent; Pelleas was helping Brinn while Khali was shooing Asteria back toward the other children.

Lysis was there, pacing on a table, along with all of her children save Teddy, who would be with the Avalonian president, and Amelia, who was still working with the Aenur Foundation on Tuaut; most of her childrens’ spouses and children were there as well. Zhan was gesturing about something – she didn’t know what exactly, but she knew it generally. He was talking her through the risks, talking her through the chances.

Lysis caught her eye, and nodded – again, a nod Rixie picked up despite the size difference. Rixie understood exactly what Lysis was thinking. She could accept that Darren was at risk. She could accept that he could die. She just wanted to know if her gun could be of use, and if not now, exactly when.

“Hi Rixie,” a voice said from over her shoulder. She turned, and saw Pryvani, who looked very small. “I…I am so sorry. I don’t….”

Pryvani sighed, and composed herself. “I’m so sorry. It’s awful. And…and I don’t know what I can do to help.”

Rixie looked around at the people in the room. She turned back to Pryvani. “Yes you do,” she said. “You got our family together. So whatever comes…we deal with it together.”

At that moment, another woman walked down the hallway, wiping tears out of her eyes. “Rixie….”

Rixie grabbed Thyllia and pulled her in tight. She held her daughter-in-law for a long time, before she said, “Thyllia…I hope Alex told you, but…you…you always….”

“He did,” Thyllia said, sniffing back tears. “And you guys…you always will be, too.”

Rixie gave Thyllia a kiss on the forehead, and walked over to a terminal. She linked her pad to it, and with the unknown status of Gama Fleet displaying on the wallscreen, she grabbed a drink and headed over to her husband – but paused on the way.

“Pryvani, have you called Naskia?”

Pryvani, who had been talking with Thyllia, paused. “I told Brinn and Taron and when they called Nick and Sophia…I was going to call her. But I was trying to plan and…it’s her husband, her daughter, her brother, and her best friend, Rixie. I just….”

“I was going to say,” Rixie said, “I don’t think you should if you haven’t. This is…it’s too much. There are officers in the Imperators Corps who have this as their job. They’re trained grief counselors; they know how to break terrible news to people. And if…if it has to be done, Naskia will need someone who doesn’t make a mistake.”

Pryvani nodded. “You’re not just saying that, dear, because you can’t imagine how to tell her, are you?”

Rixie sighed. “I’m not telling her for the same reason you aren’t, Pryvani.”

Pryvani took a sip of her drink, and nodded.

* * *

“You don’t like my friend here?” Tapp asked, her voice soft and gentle

The nervous man steadied himself, and focused himself on Tapp. “It’s a nice trick, but I’ve seen the files on the bugs, you’re not proving anything with this. We already know about the Insectoids.”

“Insectoid? Oh, I’m sorry…you thought this was an insectoid? No darling, this is a scilith. We have these back home, nasty little things. Pests, you should see the damage they can do in swarms. They at not too different from the roaches you have here you know – well, like a cross between roaches and scorpions, they have a poisonous sting that can kill you if you don’t get to the doctor in time. They are tough, fast, and once you have an infestation, it’s very hard to get rid of them.”

Now she had their attention.

“Remember when Daddy had to kill that one in your room, Mikkael? Oh the poor boy didn’t sleep for weeks!” Tapp chuckled fondly, and shook her head as she allowed herself to travel back to some distant memory for a split second. “Not that there are many on Archavia. Not native there, and they’ve worked hard to keep them out. But then, they are dumb creatures. Not capable of outsmarting biocontainment. Not the Insectoids. These are just bugs, the normal, ordinary, run of the mill insects that outnumber the inhabitants of Grelau and Granav a million to one…you want to see what the big ones look like?” Tapp asked with a Tarsuss-like poker face.

There was a whisper in the room. The titans of industry were watching the lifelike monster of an insect twitch about in place. Mikkael had no clue what his mother was up to. It was quite likely she had finally gone mad. But like most humans in the Empire, he’d been taught Shakespeare as a child, and he remembered his Hamlet.

“I’m afraid the facilities here are not quite built to show you them,” Tapp said. “Perhaps if I had a while, I could get a matrix set up in the courtyard downstairs, frankly without the proper avenues taken, I’d likely cause a riot.” Tapp drummed her finger nails along the desk and shrugged. “This conference room is on the fifth floor. If you can imagine looking out the window at our scilith friend here, head level with us. Only with a nasty disposition, and the ability to build and pilot spacecraft.”

The room was silent.

“What does any off this have to do with trade?” One solemn investor finally spoke up.

Tapp’s voice dropped an octave, and she narrowed her emerald eyes while leaning in, “Absolutely nothing.”

Tapp stood, and turned her back to the room, a move she was warned against so long ago, it could have been another lifetime. “I just wanted to let you know the other side of the story.” She looked to her son, the genetic conglomeration of human and Jotun, a living testament to cohabitation, and her own flesh and blood.

“I wanted to let you know who sent that video, that deplorable, detestable video. Because if Earth is dead set on their decision to go it alone, I figured you should know what is beyond door number two.” Tapp said, quietly.

“We’re not politicians. We have lobbyists, but battle….”

“They will come, like a swarm of locusts, terrible and swift, their numbers will blot out the sun. They will consume everything, they’ll kill indiscriminately, because they can. There will be no mercy, no negotiations, no quarter. Women, children, man, animal, we will all be equal in their eyes,” Tapp said, turning back to the silent gathering.

Tapp swallowed, her eyes looked to the Scilith hologram, which was rotating as to give a good view of the creature from all angles. “The titans can be a terrible, slow, frustrating race, some of whom are capable of some of the worst things imaginable. But they are capable of great compassion, and when push comes to shove, they are a much better ally than….”

A sudden, three-toned klaxon drowned her out.

* * *

“…so yes, I definitely think that Cervantes was on to something when he had Don Quixote tilt at windmills. They certainly could have been giants. Next question.”

“Do you think more humans in the Empire will be creating literature?”

Nonah leaned forward a bit in her chair, and looked to the questioner in the crowd. “I do. We already are, in fact,” she said. “I’ve told you about my son….”

She allowed the crowd a moment to chuckle; Nonah had already twice gone off on tangents about Ulee’s work. She was very proud of all her children, but of all of them, she understood her middle child the best; he was a writer, after all, and while he would agree that his prose was not as lush as Nonah’s, she would agree that his plotting was better than hers. He had sold his initial book partly as a sop to his mother – her publisher liked to keep her happy, after all. But his last two books had made the top twenty, and the one he was working on now…she thought this might be the one that really broke out.

She was really happy about that. All her children were having success. Hector was working for Advanced Biokinetics in Tannhauser, and dating a Titan man he’d met while working there; Ulee was writing and had finally asked his girlfriend – a human, not that it mattered to Nonah – to marry him. And Lessy…well, Lessy was Lessy, and she and Moze were going to finally give her the grandkid she’d been waiting patiently for. All three of her kids were successful in business and love, and there was nothing more….

Three loud, obnoxious tones burst from Nonah’s pad, and from the looks of the humans in the crowd, from all of their gools. Nonah glanced down at the pad, hoping against hope this wasn’t another of those awful videos.

“Stand by for an emergency message from the Chancellor of the House of Humanity,” a voice said. The tones repeated, and the voice of Batari Iman’s translator came through. She was speaking in Mandarin, but it was being translated live into all of Earth’s major languages.

People had to understand.

* * *

The conference room was silent, as the Chancellor’s voice filled it.

“My fellow humans, I speak to you on what may be one of the darkest days in our planet’s history. Just over ninety minutes ago, we were informed that an Insectoid vessel, one the size of the asteroid Vesta, has entered Imperial space, and attacked the colony of humans at Tau Ceti. The Imperial Military has gone to intercept them – including the Gyfjon, the ship carrying the Secretary-General’s delegation. Communication has been lost with both the Gyfjon and the colony, and while they will do everything they can to defend themselves, the Empire believes that the force the Insectoids have brought will likely succeed in destroying both the colony and the initial wave of Imperial ships.

“The Titan Empire believes that this Insectoid force is targeting Earth. The Insectoids have long craved access to our planet, for a simple, vicious reason: they want to eat us.”

“The Empire has said that they will do all they can to stop this attack before it reaches Earth. Ambassador Martin is working directly with the Imperial government, and she tells us that despite recent events, their commitment to defend Earth has not wavered. More forces are even now racing to join the defense. But this is a force that scares even the Titans. And we cannot assume that they will be successful.

“My fellow humans, Earth has faced horror before. We faced destruction by fire during the Cold War. We faced starvation and death by thirst during the Water Wars. We faced an unthinkable evil during the Short War. Now, we face an evil worse than that.

“But we have faced evil, and we have defeated it, again and again. And so these monsters wish to come to Earth and eat us? We are not an easy snack, my friends. We do not go down easy. We will fight every step of the way, with everything we have. We will never give in to them. We will never give up.

“We have prepared for this. We have a defense plan in place. It will not be easy. It will not be quick. But we will fight the bugs. And we will kill them.

“We all hope that it will not come to this. We all hope that our allies will defeat them. But we cannot rely on them. Not because they will not try, but because we must not place the responsibility on them. If they cannot defeat the Insects, it is our responsibility to protect ourselves. And we will. And with all of us working together, all of us watching out for each other, we will never be defeated.

“In one hour, your nation’s governmental leadership will be outlining the steps you should take to prepare. In the meantime, I urge you not to panic, not to lash out, and not to be afraid. We are humans, and we will win the same way we always do: by doing our very best, and being our very best, together and united. If you are religious, may your spirits and gods protect this world; if not, then may fate protect it. Thank you.”

Tapp sat down calmly. “Well,” she said. “I had not intended to be prophetic. This discussion is best tabled for now, I believe.”

There was a long silence, before a woman said, “If we survive this, Ms. Uksahkka….I suppose that’s a silly thing to say, isn’t it?”

“Not at all,” Tapp said. “The Titans will fight, and the humans will fight, and no, the insects will not give us quarter. But I was born a pet, and now I am in a room with thirty of the wealthiest people on Earth. And each of you can tell a story just as bold, I am sure. We are far tougher than either than the Titans or the Insectoids know. And we will not give the bugs quarter, either.”

“When this is over, if God willing, we survive,” the balding president of Indevola said, “I would like to take this up again. For now…I believe we should get home. While home still exists.”

“Of course,” Tapp said. “Of course.”

* * *

There was a long silence in the hall. Nonah didn’t hear it, though. Her baby girl. Oh, Gods, her baby girl…and her baby girl’s baby. And Moze. And Sorcha. And Niall. And Darren. And Loona. Oh Gods, Loona….

The silence was broken when one person shouted, “So do you think your Titan friends are really gonna help us? Or are they gonna bugger off back home?”

Nona lifted her head – she’d had it buried in her hands – and looked out into the audience. It was a young woman who’d asked it, with her hair dyed pink. She looked a little like Pryvani Tarsuss, though not as well-dressed as the Senator would have been.

The crowd murmured in agreement at first, then shouts of anger began.

Nonah wanted to tell the woman to go fuck herself, but she didn’t. She wanted to tell the crowd to shut the hell up, but she didn’t.

Nonah was a woman who’d once volunteered to be raped to give Niall time to save them.

Nonah didn’t panic easy.

“You know,” she said, quietly, “my daughter is on Tau Ceti.”

That brought the crowd to silence, almost immediately.

“She’s pregnant,” Nonah said. “Her fiancé – boyfriend – well, whatever Moze is, she and he are together forever, and they are being attacked right now. Niall Freeman, you all know him – he’s on one of the ships being attacked. His daughter, Sorcha, is on Tau Ceti right now. And his brother-in-law, Sorcha’s uncle, Navarchos Bass, he’s part of that fleet. His wife, Ambassador Bass…she’s there too….

“That’s not all, though. I can name you dozens of Titans in that fleet right now, not to mention Dunnermacs and Avartle and Ler, all of whom are, I guarantee you, fighting for their lives to defend the humans on that planet. And should they fail, there are thousands more who will fight for us, to the end.”

Nonah had tears streaming down her cheeks, but she didn’t feel them. “They aren’t perfect, but damn it, they are our friends. And even the ones who don’t see us as people see us as worthy of protection. They will put themselves between the Insectoids and us. And make no mistake, if they don’t stop them, if the bugs make it here…it is because they will have killed my daughter, and her husband, and her best friend, yes, but also Aerti Bass and Lauryna Gwenn and a host of other people who have spent their lives working for humans. Are the Titans going to ‘bugger off home?’ Fuck no!”

Nonah looked down at the stage. “I don’t know if the Insectoids will make it here. But if this attack has begun…I don’t know which of my family and friends I’m going to lose. But I know I will lose some of them. And yes, my daughter is the one I fear for the most. But my best friend – Loona Armac, the Deputy Floor Leader, the one negotiating for the Empire – she’s there too. And if I lose Loona….”

Nonah sniffled back tears. “Loona is my best friend. She’s a Titan. And I know, I know, that she will do everything she can to protect Earth, to protect Tau Ceti, to protect us. If the Insectoids get here, they will have had to kill Loona to do it. So feel however you want to feel about them. But don’t you frakking dare suggest that they will leave us to die. They may die with us, they may fail us, they may make mistakes and patronize us and misjudge us and do all sorts of things that are just awful. But they will never abandon us.”

There were no more questions from the audience. Everyone had to get home. They had to get ready. They had to find their families, and hold them tight.

Except for Nonah. She fumbled with her pad, tried to connect to her husband, but for obvious reasons, the system steadfastly refused to send the call through. So all she could do was to sit in the auditorium, long after it had emptied, and cry.

—

Thanks to Dann for his parts of this!