A couple Imperial months after the Battle of Tau Ceti….

Lemm Tam stood at the head of the table, and looked down at the board. “Archiploiarchos Merulon,” she said to her adjutant, “what is the fleet’s status?”

The Titan man looked the board over carefully; he was just a month removed from the bridge of the Arutelae, and as surprised as anyone that he was here. Leaving aside everything else, he was surprised that he wasn’t still waiting while Sombrel Daru took this spot. But Daru was working on a project integrating the Avalonian Guard, and once she was done…well, there was already talk of them activating Ishay Fleet for the first time in two hundred years, and activating Ishaytan Fleet for the first time…ever. He didn’t know if they’d retrofit the old Aspis I carriers or try to anchor them with another ship – hells, it was all new. All anyone knew was that there were going to be a lot of spots for flags opening up, and soon.

It wasn’t the way anyone had wanted to earn a comet.

Satisfied, he said, “All ships reporting in as ready to engage, Navarchos.”

“Good,” Lemm said. “Comms, Crewmate Esesa, what is the word from Tuaut?”

“Ma’am,” Esesa said, “I have the Floor Leader on the line.”

“Put her on vox,” Lemm said. “Madam Floor Leader, this is Navarchos Tam. Gama Fleet stands ready.”

“No fleet stands more ready, Navarchos Tam,” Loona said. “With the agreement of the Emperor and the Legislature, and the support of our allies on Earth, you are hereby ordered to begin Operation Rubicon.”

Lemm betrayed no emotion that the people on the bridge could have discerned. But had Aerti been there, he would have clearly read her satisfaction. All Lemm said, however, was, “Affirm, Madam Floor Leader. We will report back in 84 hours per orders.”

“We look forward to that,” Loona said. She thought about warning Lemm not to take revenge, but she decided against it. For one, she knew Lemm wasn’t the type to risk loss on a stupid gamble. For another…well, the Insectoids brought this fight. If they had the opportunity to fry some of them, Loona was quite comfortable with the thought.

* * *

“Why ‘Operation Rubicon?’” Commander Mija Haedta of the Omicron asked, as Gama Fleet turned and began its maneuver.

“It’s Earth history. It was recommended by General Martínez, I believe,” said Captain Alyias.

“Aye, it’s a boring river in Italy noo, but in the ancient Roman Empire, it was the border between Gaul and Rome. Julius Caesar, a general who wanted to take Rome by force, crossed it with his troops, and by so doing, made war inevitable. Crossing the Rubicon’s been an Earth metaphor for oh, aboot two thousand years, or a 350-some of yer economy-size ones. Means that you’re going past the point o’ no return.” Lorna smiled, and sipped tea. “What, you thought this pretty head was just here for window dressing?”

Mija’s soflty-glowing eyes turned down to the tiny woman sitting on a chair on the Omicron’s briefing table. “Given how many bugs Acolyte One kept off our windshields, we would never think that,” Haedta said. “Comfortable back on the tip of the spear, Colonel?”

“Aye, any of ‘em want another square go, we’ll take ‘em. Hoping Yemi don’t mind me holding the sticks this time, but the new gunner’s a lass after ma own heart. Na that’ll need her to do more’n take photos.”

“We hope,” Tatu Alyias said. “Already lost enough good people.”

“Aye,” Lorna said. “And amen to that.”

* * *

GJ 666 A, or 41 G. Arae A, or System EM0022, or Forward Hive Position in the 22^nd System – whatever it is you wish to call it – is a fairly forgettable dual-star system in the constellation Ara. It’s anchored by a G class star, and there’s a barely-habitable world around it, one that’s fairly unpleasant even by Insectoid standards. There, the bugs had built a forward base of sorts, a proto-hive that worked to make the world more to Insectoid standards, and – more important – one that served as a vanguard, a watchpost.

For dull as GJ 666 A is, there was one very notable fact about it: it was the nearest inhabited Insectoid world to the Imperial border.

As such, it had always loomed large in military planning on both sides of that border. And with a war in full swing, those plans were now being put into effect – though not in exactly the way wargames had suggested they would be.

“We have a ‘go’ from Fleet Actual, ma’am,” Haedta said.

“All right people,” Alyias said, leaning forward just a bit, “let’s see what we’re dealing with. Mr. Abony, set course for Epsilon-Mu-0022, warp six.”

The Omicron slipped over the border between Hive Space and the Empire. At this speed, they’d reach the system in less than five minutes. Of course, for this mission, speed was of the essence; they weren’t attacking, not yet. They wanted to test the Hive, see what condition their forces were in. See how quickly they moved to intercept.

“We have reached the EM0022 system, ma’am, reducing speed to warp two, and vectoring for EM0022A per plan.”

“Very good, Mr. Abony. Set course for EM0022 3. Acolytes One and Two, this is the captain, stand by for deployment.”

Down in the main shuttlebay, the Acolytes stood ready.

“Aright. Yemi, let’s have all the power ye can squeeze out of these engines.”

“Do you think I’d give you less, Motherwell?” Yemi said. “We’re at 103%.”

“Aye, that’s a lad. Major Riese, you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, ma’am,” Tzvia said.

“An’ I’ll warn you again, hawd yer wheeshd. I heard about your havering at the Ambassador, we don’t spend our time talking nonsense.”

“Motherwell, you realize that if Ted Martínez held to that, you’d be in the brig right now,” Yemi said.

“Aye, but he knew I was a hoora good gunner. Dinna ken about this’n.”

“Believe it or not, ma’am, I have learned when to hold my tongue after that fashla.”

“Don’t worry, Major, Col. McIntosh was hazing the General when he was in her seat,” Yemi said. “And if you’re half as good as you were on the sims, you’re twice as good as Motherwell on the guns.”

“Stop talking out yer fanny flaps, Ibori. All reet, five minutes. Acolyte Two, this is Acolyte One,” McIntosh continued, her accent thinning out dramatically. “Five minutes to launch, I want you on our four, remember, cameras only unless I clear it, this is an intelligence mission only reet nu. Over.”

“Acolyte Two, yes’m, roger that.”

“Commandant Cooper’s a good’un for a sassenach. You might be good as him someday, Major, if ye could learn to hold yer lip.”

“Yes, but I don’t have the chutzpah that you do, ya klip.”

McIntosh laughed. “Not entirely sure what you said, ye numpty, but I think you’re gonna fit arite.”

* * *

Back on the bridge, Tatu Alyias was pacing.

They should have been intercepted by now. Even before the Battle of Tau Ceti, a capital ship flying into EM0022 would have brought two Ishaytan-Sevens out, loaded for bear. That was, in fact, what they were planning on.

But they were rapidly approaching what they considered the optimum drop point, and they still hadn’t seen anything.

At all.

“Mija, what’s traffic in the system look like?”

“There is no traffic,” Haedta said. “We aren’t showing so much as a shuttlecraft.”

They were less than half an arch away from EM0022 3, and less than a minute out. They were already a full arch closer than the worst-case scenario drop zone. Tatu’s stomach churned. She didn’t want to drop the Acolytes off if there was some kind of feint going on.

She brought up the comms.

“Col. McIntosh, we’ll be at drop point Alpha in thirty seconds. We still have not been intercepted.”

“Now that’s odd,” McIntosh said. “Nae danger they’re planning something?”

“I don’t know,” Alyias said. “If they are, they’re doing better than the Insectoids ever have. They usually aren’t much for subterfuge.”

“Aye, true, they usually just come on in and take a jab.”

“I don’t see any reason to abort…but that almost makes me consider aborting,” Alyias said.

“Nae, didn’t come this far just to sit about. We’ll give it a go.”

“Thought you’d say that. Mr. Abony, slow to station-keeping; Ms. Trkrkkkrg, open hangar three. Good hunting, Colonel.”

“Aye, thanks for the lift, now on your trolley; we’ll see the Atlantis back in six hours.”

“Might be us, Colonel,” Tatu said. “We were supposed to be fleeing by now, remember.”

“Aye, that’s true,” Lorna said, willing Acolyte One off the deck and into open space. “This is damned weird is what it is. Aright, we’ve got our targets; let’s go have a look.”

The two Acolytes roared toward the planet, aiming for the eastern hemisphere, where Insectoid settlements ringed a relatively small sea. The sea itself was just on the edge of freezing, and only its extreme salinity prevented it.

“Aright, on me, gunners begin imaging,” Lorna said as the Acolytes bit atmosphere. “We should see the Insectoid settlement….”

Lorna McIntosh trailed off. For a good, long, and rare moment, she couldn’t think of anything to say. When she finally did, it was simply, “Hell’s bells.”

She turned Acolyte One lower. “Well. We definitely want to get pictures of this.”

* * *

“We have a potential hostile, ma’am. Bearing 104 – carom – 009. Looks to be an 843 Ishaytan. It’s dead in space, ma’am.”

“Life signs?” Tatu asked.

“None,” Mija said.

Tatu Alyias looked the ship over. “Engines have anything going?”

“They are online, but their thrusters are destroyed! Minimal power only!”

Tatu looked at the ship. Maybe she’d regret this, but they were here to test Insectoid defenses.

“Ms. Trkrkkkrg, target engines. One single phase pulse.”

“Ma’am?” Mija said.

“We’re going to see if we draw anyone out,” Tatu said. “Ms. Trkrkkkrg, fire.”

The single shot from the Omicron was enough to destroy the small cargo ship. The small conflagration would have to be noticed, if there was anyone to notice anything.

It took a good ten minutes before they got a hit.

“Ishaytan-209 Fighters, ma’am, coming from the moon. They’re inbound on our position,” Commander Haedta said.

“Got their attention. Shields up. Ms. Trkrkkkrg, how many are we looking at?”

“Ma’am…we see two!”

“Two hundred fighters. Well, you stir up a scilith’s nest, you’ll get sciliths. Mr. Abony….”

“No, noble captain! Not two hundred! Two! Just two pathetic Insectoid fighters!”

Tatu paused. Two hundred fighters would make sense. It would be a bit much for them to bring to bear on one ship, but considering no capital ships were around, it wouldn’t be unreasonable.

Two…the Insectoids never brought just two of anything if they were spoiling for a fight.

“We’re being hailed, captain.”

“On vox.”

There was a brief sound of warrior language before the translation matrix locked in. “You are of the large bipedal mammals.”

“Yes, we are,” Alyias said. “I am captain….”

“You are not of Hive Prime.”

Alyias blinked. “No, I’m Captain Tatu Alyias, of the….”

“It is of no concern. If the large bipedal mammals hold this system, then Hive Prime cannot retake it. [Untranslatable] finds this acceptable. We will allow you to take this system, and we will not attack you until we have destroyed the [wrong] hives. We transmit this information. We terminate our watch.”

“Captain, they power their weapons in a feedback loop! They mean to….”

But even as Trkrkkkrg said this, the two fighters exploded, taking their pilots with them.

Tatu Alyias stared at the dissipating cloud of debris. “What the frak is going on?” she finally said.

There was a long pause, before the comms officer said, “Ma’am, the Atlantis has reached the system. We’re being hailed.”

“On vox,” Tatu said. “Atlantis, this is Omicron actual. Bet you’re wondering why we’re still here.”

“We were a bit, Tatu,” Captain Ntenae said. “They’re just letting you sit in orbit?”

“I’m pretty sure they just surrendered this system to us,” Tatu said. “Comms, Sulva, loop in Col. McIntosh.”

There was a pause. “Aye, was considering breaking silence myself,” Lorna said. “Omicron, this is Acolyte One. Near as we can tell, every bug on this planet is nae more.”

* * *

“Gods,” Vanser Nix said, as Gama Fleet uploaded the imaging from the Acolytes. “I can’t say that I’m sorry to see it…but….”

The analysts in the Dodecahedron were as flummoxed as those in System EM0022. It was very clear that whatever had happened on the planet, it had been nasty, brutish, and successful. The Insectoids had leveled every structure in the camp, and since their workers build underground, that meant that their camp was now a two-hundred-kilometer-wide crater that was still venting smoke and poison and hard radiation. Bodies were piled on top of bodies, many of them clearly killed in mid-assault.

“Captain Gwenn, what do you think of their transmission?” Carva Lagvul asked.

Laurna Gwenn was at the Dodecahedron for another week or two; the Aerti Bass was almost ready for her, and she was more than ready for it. But while she’d have loved to be on point for this one…she was sure she’d be as confounded as Tatu Alyias was.

“The machine translation isn’t far off,” Lauryna said. “They were conceding the system. But…in the Insectoid language, the Hive is always signaled the same way, as a solitary unit. But they’re signaling all over the place – they use the terminology for Hive Prime, but their…well, it’s grammar, more or less…they signal it the way they signal the Empire – ‘Space of the Large Bipedal Mammals.’ They refer to Hive Prime as a foreign entity. And while the word is the same, they don’t really refer to it as Hive Prime. The inflections…they’re referring to it as Hive One. As for the untranslatable bit…the way they approached it…It’s referring to a new hive. One that they view as their hive. One that is separate from Hive Prime.”

Pane Segdi had been taking this in, but at that, she started. “Captain…you’re saying that these are…I mean…are you suggesting there’s a rebellion within the Hive?”

“No,” Lauryna said. “That’s not possible. Hives are extremely close-knit. There is no word for rebellion – the concept can’t be expressed in Mantid or Warrior. This…this wouldn’t be like the Federation trying to secede. This would be like the Emperor turning on the Empress. But even that’s probably not as bizarre as this.”

Lauryna frowned. “There’ve been examples of them kicking small groups out of the Hive, usually cutting them loose when they’re in Imperial territory illegally. This…this would be like me cutting my lungs loose. They’re reading Hive Prime out of the Hive. If this is correct…they see them as no more a part of their territory as they see us.”

Pane Segdi nodded. “Well. This makes our task easier, does it not?”

“It should,” Lauryna said. “If they’re fighting each other…they conceded the first system we came to. There are doubtless many more where they’ve killed off most of their warriors.”

“And that means we’re already part of the way there,” Pane said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Lauryna said. “The one thing we know about the Insectoids, the one thing they’ve always told us, is that they will come for us someday.”

“Right,” Vanser said. “I’d love to talk coexistence, but….”

“But they have told us they will not coexist,” Lagvul said. “And if the choice is the insectoids, or Titans, Avartle, Humans, Dunnermac, Ler, the Tusola…hells, even the Drazari. We were happy to live in peace. They have proven that we cannot live in peace as long as they live.”

“So it’s to be xenocide, then,” Lauryna said.

“Do you object to it?” Pane asked.

“No, ma’am,” Lauryna said. “To be honest…I think most of us are looking forward to it.”

“Gorram right,” Vanser said. “It will take time, of course.”

“We will have to ramp up,” Pane agreed. “The Floor Leader knows that. And there’s a lot of work to be done to get the Acolyte wings up and running. But if they’re tearing each other apart, then we have time. We’ll move slowly, a system at a time. Keep probing, until we know for sure what their status is. What would our next target be, Praetor Imperii?”

“EM0007,” Lagvul said. “Perhaps a million insectoids. It’s not quite a full hive, but it’s more than the fortress they had at EM0022.”

“Very well,” Pane said. “Begin your preparations. And congratulate Navarchos Tam, Captain Alyias, Col. McIntosh, and everyone else involved. The Empire and our Terran allies took a star system today. They should be proud. And so should you.”

“Due respect, Madam Minister,” Lauryna said, “but I’ll save proud for when we’ve wiped the felgercarbers out.”

Segdi nodded, and smiled. “Frakking right, Captain. Frakking right.”