Behold: Humanity!: Total War, page 43
Then had come the night of terror, when the sky roared out THERE IS ONLY ENOUGH FOR ONE and drove the Overseers mad. They had tried to get into the maternity ward, coming up the elevator holding debris or weapons, intending on hurting the pregnant beings and tiny little lives she had been caring for.
She had held them off with a potted plant and a gut full of terror.
Now she stepped out of the dropship confidently, her feathers hidden by the adaptive camouflage uniform of the Terran Space Force, the stick with the reptiles twisted around it on her shoulder, the red cross on one side of her chest and the red crescent on the other. Hanging from a strap was her weapon, a short barreled magac SMG, off of her other shoulder hung her medical kit. She had been taught to use it during the intense Terran training she had received on Telkan.
One either side of her stood FIDO units, their hard light systems making them look doofy and fuzzy, and they walked with her as she headed toward the civilian hospital. Around her Terran troops were busy raising up shelters, deploying battle-screens, putting up camouflage systems.
Building a medivac base to support the hospital.
She walked confidently to the hospital doors, waiting for them to slide open.
Diphitate had worked to help others all of her life.
It felt right for her to be here.
And she wasn't scared any more. Not like she had been.
She moved up to the desk, looking at the frightened Plekit huddled down in her chair.
"Greetings," she said.
"G-greetings," the Plekit squeaked.
"Can you upload directions to your maternity ward to my datalink, please?" she asked. The Plekit nodded and Diphitate nodded with appreciation when her retinal display updated, showing her the way.
"Are you still here to hurt us?" the Plekit asked, hugging itself.
"No. We were never here to hurt you, my dear," Diphitate said softly. "But that no longer matters."
"Can you stop them? Can anyone stop them?" the Plekit asked, shivering.
"We're going to damn well try," Diphitate said.
"I hope you do," the Plekit said.
Diphitate just nodded, heading for the elevators. She made the ride silently, the FIDOs on either side of her eager to get to work. When the door opened up she swallowed for a moment.
She could remember when those doors opened and she'd run screaming at the strange creatures all in black, swinging a potted plant while she shrieked.
You won't have to do that. I'll protect you, she thought to herself to the gathered neo-sapients in the waiting room as she crossed the room and knocked on the door marked "Administrator - Neo-Sapient Maternity Ward" and waited.
"She left already. She galloped away," a Cemtrary said, wringing his hands together.
Not unexpected, Diphitate thought to herself. She put a fingertip against the electronic door lock and activated a program. A second later the door swung open and she moved into the office.
Her implant pinged.
"How's it look up at neo-sapient maternity, Lieutenant?" Lieutenant Colonel Tellevar asked.
"The Most High left, probably when she heard the Precursors were here," Diphitate said. She put her hand on the dataslate in the middle of the desk and let her suit's functions crack the 'encryption'.
"All right. Can you handle it up there?" The LTC asked.
"I should. I'm checking the records now," she said.
"We don't have as long as we thought. These ones are rushing past Space Force, making a beeline for the planet rather than trying to seize control of the system," the Colonel said.
"They're going with extinction, then," she said softly.
"I'm afraid so. Start prepping for evac, although I don't know where we're going to evac them to," the Colonel said.
"Yes, sir," Diphitate answered. The comlink clinked off and Diphitate examined the data she'd unlocked and blinked.
She carefully opened up a channel, making sure it was secure.
"Iron Feathers here," came the brusque answer.
"It's Diphitate," she said. "I need you or one of your men you trust to take an elevator to sub-level five. If they can't reach it, try accessing it through the elevator at the back of one of the maternity or neo-natal wards."
"What will they be looking for?" Iron Feathers asked.
"This isn't a hospital," Diphitate said.
There was silence for a moment.
"What is it?" Iron Feathers asked.
"It's a lab."
SOWING MISTRUST
Captain Half-Feather, Lone Star Security Services LLC, looked over the document a final time before he was supposed to transmit it. It contained his personal observations of the client and subject as well as his professional opinions. He had also attached several documents created by the client over the last few days.
The client had immersed himself in watching fictional dramas. Interestingly enough he often chose movies that had been remade multiple times, working backwards and making notes at the differences between the movies and comparing the movies themselves to the time period they were produced in, whether they were played straight or satire, or even if the producers had understood the work and the time period they were remaking.
Half-Feather had seen the list of annotations that the client had made and was frankly surprised by them.
Terrans prize individuality and group cohesion, seeing no paradox in valuing opposing values.
Terrans say such things as 'Every Individual Can Make a Difference' on the same propaganda that states 'Together We Will Achieve Our Desires'
A Terran is not deterred by mathematical odds nor by the ensuing difficulty or hardships that may be endured. A Terran will often consider the hardships as 'part of the price to pay' or even something to boast about overcoming.
Half-Feather hadn't read anything he hadn't read a thousand times before, but he had to admit, it was a more comprehensive list then he had expected from an individual who had only been exposed to Terran Descent Humans directly for less than a week.
Apparently, the client was able to glean a vast amount of data by watching movies. One of the datapoints even mentioned it, and he highlighted the datapoint for attention by LSSS LLC Intelligence.
The Terran ability to withstand visceral violence and return, with equal or greater force, that violence, is evident in most fictional works by Terrans to the point that a faint psychic echo can be measured even during the replay of a historical dramatized documentary of a violent incident performed by actors who know they are acting in a movie, as if the emotions and violence have left a cultural and species mark upon the Terrans.
That was a point that Half-Feather had never seen, and fit neatly with the next part.
Terrans subjected to repeated violent incidents can often compound them together in order to resist the mental trauma of the next incident as well as enabling them to perform at a higher rate of performance. Where exposure to violent or dangerous incidents cause the majority of, if not all, other sapient species to avoid such circumstances in the future, Terrans use the warning signs to prepare themselves for the conflict rather than seeking to avoid it. This enables them to engage in warfare with increasing effectiveness as time goes on rather than the degradation that affects the majority of species. It also enables them to withstand longer periods of deprivation and mental trauma due to the more recent history of hunter-gatherer society. This leads me to believe that the longer a Terran society fights the more effective they become militarily, which leaves only the option of inducing what Terrans call 'war fatigue' upon the civilian populace. Militarily, a Terran culture will eventually triumph, willing to accept what other species would consider hideous losses to ensure future peace. As a culture and society, Terrans seek to avoid war as it is seen as disruptive and a waste of the one thing a Terran culture values: life.
Captain Half-Feather sighed, transmitted his report and the attached documents, and checked his datalink.
The client was with several of the hired 'minions', including four Rigellian body guards, a Digital Sentience masquerading as an enhanced virtual intelligence, and one 'Major Bloodfist', who was a Lonestar security specialist.
Captain Half-Feather put on his persona of a faceless security being and resumed his patrol of the beaches of the volcanic island that had risen up when the Great Glassing had caused the Hamburger Kingdom Great Yellow Rocks Caldera to explode, igniting the entire "Ring of Fire."
Inside the volcano lair 'Major Bloodfist' walked next to the client, who clattered down the hallway on four hooves, his four arms occupied with holding and petting his purrboi. The 'eVI Liaison' Heinrich was walking with them, looking dapper in his suit.
"...specifications you desired have been reached, as well as hiring the professionals you wished to be employed on this project," Heinrich said as they approached the heavy battlesteel door.
"Excellent, excellent," the client, a Lanaktallan, said, stopping to pet his purrboi and lift his chin up. "This work may prove to be vital."
The door whooshed upon and the small group moved inside. Inside there were six heavy duty warsteel cases with lights on the side hooked up to heavy duty cabling as well as coolant systems. Massive arrays of advanced computers lined the walls and the temperature in the room was chilly to say the least. In the middle of the room was a massive holotank, as well as nearly a dozen smaller ones clustered around it. Heinrich stopped just inside the door.
"Mein Herr, I cannot move in any further," Heinrich stated.
"Oh, of course. Take a break, Heinrich, till I return. If you do not feel as if you need some leisure time, please work on the project I asked you to undertake," the Lanaktallan, one Ba'ahn Ya'ahd, said, waving his hand. "You are a most attentive minion, my apologies for being forgetful about your status and how it would conflict with this room."
"Jawohl," Heinrich stated and dissolved with a click of his heels.
Ba'ahn moved forward into the room, looking around. After a few seconds six beings appeared, Terrans made of streaming code. They all turned and looked at Ba'ahn Ya'ahd, who trembled with anticipation.
Major Bloodfist did his best not to show any of his burning curiosity. Last night Ba'ahn Ya'ahd had gone to see the surgeons, who had opened up Ba'ahn Ya'ahd's left upper shoulder, exposing a shoulder replacement. Not a cybernetic, Lanaktallan couldn't accept Lanaktallan designed cybernetics any more complex or invasive than a datalink, although Ba'ahn Ya'ahd himself had proved that Lanaktallan had no problems with Terran cybernetics.
Once the shoulder replacement was exposed, the surgeons removed a set of three datacubes, hidden into the structure of the shoulder replacement itself. They had been forced to replace the cubes with better parts, but so far Ba'ahn Ya'ahd had seemed content.
Now Ba'ahn Ya'ahd held out the three datacubes for the others to see. They rested on his palm, one of a decidedly different design that felt old to Major Bloodfist. He moved up and set them carefully into the data-readers.
"New minions, I appreciate your desire for employment on a sensitive project," Ba'ahn Ya'ahd stated. "The six of you have been outfitted by the most powerful computer systems available, with quadruple layered redundancy, the most computer power I could lay my hands upon, and everything you listed upon your hiring criteria.
"Thank you, sir," the larger of the Digital Sentiences said, bowing. "Your purchase of AeVR relaxation areas for myself and my assistants will prove to increase our work performance significantly."
Ba'ahn Ya'ahd clapped two of his hands together, petting his cat with a third hand, the purrboi cradled close with his fourth arm. At the signal two Rigellian females, clad in heavy layered rubber armor with leather pants without buttocks coverings, pushed in a hover-dolly with stacks of printed money on them.
"As agreed. Ten million Burgerland Simoleans each," Ba'ahn Ya'ahd said.
The six DS's oohed and aahed over the money.
"That's up-front," Ba'ahn Ya'ahd stated. He gestured at the three cubes. "I wish those three datacubes examined closely. One contains an ancient recording of the Precursors as well as other data. Another contains images of all the machinery and electronics in an ancient facility built into an asteroid that was severely damaged, including ship scans. The last contains a download of the information that I was able to recover from the ancient memory banks as well as the virtual machine I used to access the data. It was an ancient Lanaktallan operating system, but one still in the systems."
Major Bloodfist, to his credit, didn't change expressions.
"I want you to decipher them, wrest from them their secrets," Ba'ahn Ya'ahd said. "This, in turn, will help me discover a way to bring about the end of the Terran Confederacy and any other enemies of the Lanaktallan people that might be discovered."
"Uh, sir," one of the DSes asked, raising a hand.
"Yes, my digital sentience minion?" Ba'ahn Ya'ahd replied.
"How will this data help bring about the end of the hated Confederacy?" she asked.
Ba'ahn Ya'ahd nodded. "A good question. I have no doubt that the data we retrieve from those datacubes will reveal to us how their most staunchest ally, the Mantid, can be defeated. Once we defeat the Mantid, the Terrans will immediately sue for peace," he said.
"Um, sure," she said, unable to figure out how that would work.
"If you break apart the pack, the individual submits," Ba'ahn Ya'ahd said. He waved his hand. "You, of course, will be completely separated from SolNet during this time. Otto will provide any access to SolNet you might need via recorded and surveilled line."
"Of course," the biggest one said. "Thank you, sir, for this opportunity."
"Of course," Ba'ahn Ya'ahd said, turning in place and trotting to the exit. "Come, Major Bloodfist, it is time to get the next phase of my dastardly plans in motion."
Major Bloodfist gave an internal sigh and wondered if his employer was brain damaged.
-----
The waters of the lagoon were mirror smooth, the moon reflecting off the water. Birds and insects made sleepy noises during the night as a breeze off the ocean made the branches and leaves sway. A ripple formed and a single creature slowly rose from the lagoon. A facemask that covered all six eyes, a rebreather that allowed the tendrils to curl and uncurl, a wet-suit that kept any trace of the Lanaktallan from entering the water.
The Lanaktallan moved quietly up onto the beach, taking off the flippers and then carefully digging a hole with them. Once that was done, the Lanaktallan stripped off the wet-suit, the breathing mask, and the water propulsion harness and put it all in the hole. Then he opened a satchel and dressed in adaptative camouflage, putting on small devices that would keep any trace of his presence from being detected. He carefully covered the swimming gear, set two sand dollars on top of the spot, one right side up the other upside down, and melted into the jungle.
Ba'ahn Ya'ahd moved slowly, listening to the advice of Major Bloodfist, who was acting as his overwatch, keeping an eye on the island and Ba'ahn Ya'ahd's surroundings via stealth drone. It took nearly an hour to cross a hundred meters, ten minutes for Ba'ahn Ya'ahd to spoof the door, but then he was inside.
He moved quickly, carefully, a set of stealth drones racing ahead of him. The machine Ba'ahn Ya'ahd was after was the only one in the facility and Ba'ahn Ya'ahd moved quickly to it. He removed an electronic lockpick and opened the machine, quickly removing dozens of heavy aluminum cans, and replacing them with other cans that contained different contents. Once that was done, he added a small electronic device to the machine, then closed it and locked it up.
It took Ba'ahn Ya'ahd nearly an hour to exfiltrate back to the beach. He dressed quickly and reentered the lagoon, quietly making his way into the water so that he could submerge and rendezvous with his stealth speed-boat.
He just regretted that there was no chance for him to use his shotgun or grenade launcher.
When he climbed onboard, Major Bloodfist was steering the speedboat in a long looping arc that would come around to the opposite side of Ba'ahn Ya'ahd's volcanic island. Ba'ahn Ya'ahd clattered up to the bridge, quivering with excitement.
"Your mission was a success?" Major Bloodfist asked, still confused as to the purpose of it all.
"A complete success," Ba'ahn Ya'ahd laughed. "Yu’uMo’o will rue the day, yes he will, he will rue it!"
Ba'ahn Ya'ahd allowed himself a long moment of triumphant laughter as the speedboat slipped through the night.
-----
"Major Bloodfist, quickly, come observe the fruits of my nefarious plan!" Ba'ahn Ya'ahd called out from his office.
Major Bloodfist got up and headed into his client's office, wondering just what he was going to see.
Ba'ahn Ya'ahd was looking at a holographic projection of the break room area in Yu'umo'o's island lair. There were three figures inside, one a large hulking warborg, battlesteel implants replacing the warsteel, giving the warborg a bulky crude look. The other was slimmer, dressed in a trenchcoat with eyeshades, still a cyborg but much more modern appearing cybernetics. The last was a female cyborg, deadly as well as beautiful. The big bulky one looked upset, well, as upset as a being most battle-steel could look upset.
Major Bloodfist came in just as they were speaking.
"Are you sure you pressed the right button?" the female asked. The hologram IDed her as Yu'umo'o's personal security leader.
"I do not make mistakes of that kind," the big hulking one said. He was, according to the holotank, the facility defense and security manager.
"Your hand might have slipped," the female said. Major Bloodfist noticed she had the same accent that Otto mimicked.
"No," the bulky one said. Major Bloodfist noticed that the hulking one had the same accent that Heinrich emulated. "I wanted orange, it gave me lemon lime."
"The machine would not make a mistake," the female said, shaking her head.
"It's the maintenance man. He knows I like orange," the male said, pointing at the machine.
The female shook her head again. "So you think the staff have some kind of plot?"
