Mana'aktoo disliked the fact that he was locked away in a high security bunker beneath his palatial estate, but it had to do with the oncoming threat, which meant that Kulamu'u, the Most High of System Military Forces, gave the orders.
True, he had planned, even theorized being relegated to his private bunker. It was one of the many outcomes of his planned war against the Unified Council, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
Of course, the fact he was escorted everywhere by a duo of Terran Army warborgs had not been part of his estimations.
Mana'aktoo heard his door chime and waved his hand, dismissing the data from the battlefield. While he had little input on the situation, he was still kept informed.
He turned around just in time for his mother to come into the room. She saw the standby image on the holotank and brightened at the flowered bush with the Terran fae swirling around it. She trotted up to Mana'aktoo, her jewelry sparkling in the lights of the conference room.
"There you are, Manny," she said, expressing pleasure at seeing her son. She held out her arms and Mana'aktoo leaned into the embrace, letting her hug him with all four arms. When the embrace broke she looked around, seeing the Terran warborgs and trembling a bit. She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially in Mana'aktoo's ear.
"There are metal Terrans in here," she whispered loudly.
"Yes, mother. They are here to ensure our safety," Mana'aktoo said, trying to soothe his mother's anxiety. "There is no reason to be frightened of them."
His mother nodded, turning around and looking at one. "They're made of all metal?"
"Yes, mother. For the most part."
"Are they robots?" she asked, moving up and looking at one. She reached up and tapped its forehead. "They are quite fierce looking."
Mana'aktoo felt a slight flush of embarrassment as his mother tried to look inside the Terran warborg's skull. "No, mother, there's a Terran in there."
"Really? I thought Terrans were bigger than that. To pilot this, they would have to be very tiny," she said, looking over the warborg again.
Mana'aktoo avoided laughing, moving up and taking his mother's hand. "Is there anything you wanted?"
His mother turned away from the warborg, her curiosity forgotten. "Yes. I wanted to remind you to eat. I worry about you when you work too hard."
"I will, mother," Mana'aktoo said gently. "How is father?"
"He is worried about you. He fears this unpleasantness may age you prematurely," his mother said.
"I appreciate father's concern," Mana'aktoo said.
"And we wanted to know if you would be present at dinner," his mother said.
"Of course," Mana'aktoo said. "I look forward to dinner with my family."
"OK," she said. She leaned forward and hugged him again. "I love you, Manny. You're a good boy. A bit too clever, but still a good boy," she said. She let him go and trotted out of the room.
Mana'aktoo closed his eyes, clenching his fists and trembling, his crests inflating and his tendrils curling as he clenched his jaw as hard as he could. He could see red in his vision, feel his pulse pound at his temples.
After a few moments the rage cooled back down and Mana'aktoo set it aside.
"Please, do not judge my mother harshly," Mana'aktoo said to the left hand warborg, opening and closing his hands.
"She is a gentle and emotional person. Why would I judge her harshly when it obvious she loves you?" the warborg asked.
Mana'aktoo heaved a deep breath, a habit he'd picked up from the humans. It helped push the anger away even further. "She was once not as she is now. When I was a child, she taught me many subjects, educated me beyond what our poor household could afford. She was intelligent and taught me to value my own intellect."
"Was it an injury? Some kind of accident?" the warborg asked.
Mana'aktoo shook his head. "No. When I achieved the rank of Fifth Most High my mother and sisters were sent to mandatory schooling so that they would be able to function in Lanaktallan high society."
"And they damaged her brain. Purposefully," the warborg guessed.
"Yes. They took three intelligent and studious fillys and stunted their minds, made them only care about parties, social standing, etiquette, and proper dress," Mana'aktoo said. "The very people who educated me beyond what the system gave me, and the system destroyed their minds."
There was silence for a long moment.
"I will never forgive them for that," Mana'aktoo said, turning toward the tank.
"Neither would I, Most High," the warborg said.
Mana'aktoo looked at the right hand warborg. "What are your thoughts? How would you feel?"
The warborg didn't say anything. The panel on the right forearm slid open and some type of heavy gun emerged. It gave a pumping motion with the arm and the whine of high density capacitors charging filled the room.
Mana'aktoo nodded as he turned away.
"I agree," he said.
The warborg understood his wrath.
TWENTY FIVE HOURS REMAINING
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"Take five," the Terran said.
Palgret sighed and sat down on the chunk of concrete. He was panting inside his armor, his shoulders, back, and hips aching. He had been helping unload hover-trucks for nearly three hours and he was close to exhaustion.
The garage was beneath a skyraker. Massive pillars bore the weight of the four hundred story building, the roof was thick ferrocrete, and the basement had been a large empty area three hours ago.
Now, Terrans were running welders, affixing braces and structural supports to the massive pillars, adding more pillars, reinforcing the ceiling. The garage was full of crates, boxes, and armored metal cargo boxes that were being pushed together and refit into structures.
The Terran that had been supervising Palgret's work crew was being helped by two other Terrans, lifting a heavy endosteel girder into place. They worked silently as Palgret watched them shift the three ton girder into place.
"They're like machines," Stungut said, sitting down next to Palgret. He undid the collar on his armor and pulled off his helmet, taking a deep breath of the chilly air of the parking garage.
Palgret nodded then removed his helmet. The air was almost uncomfortable, the chill in the air must different from the hot stuffiness inside his armor.
A set of integrity fields crackled to life on the wall to the left, shimmering for a moment before sinking into the ferrocrete to increase its tensile strength a hundred fold.
"They are planning on the building collapsing," Calnvut said, sitting down next to Palgret. He had his helmet off, his fur slicked with sweat. "Their planning assumes the enemy will stymie them at every turn."
"Except they don't lose," Stungut pointed out.
"Others are worried that this battle will be terrible," Calnvut said.
"War is terrible," Palgret quoted.
That brought silence as they watched the Terrans work. Several more heavy hover trucks moved into the parking garage, maneuvering through the now heavily reinforced entryways and into the short tunnels. One of them had a red crescent and a red cross on the sides. Humans jumped out, all in grey armor with the same markings.
Everyone stared as a small group of russet colored mantids, carrying heavy packs, got out of the vehicle and headed toward one of the groupings of reinforced Conexes. One of the russet mantids, escorted by a green one, headed toward Palgret's little group. Two black mantids scuttled up, falling into step with her.
The practiced look of the whole thing made Palgret's blood run cold.
The Mantid stopped and stared for a moment. She made a motion. "338, check their armor," the russet colored one ordered. The translation program used a female voice for her. She looked at the gathered Maktanan. "I am Major Holds Back the Shinigami, you may call me Major Holds," she said. "I'm a Terran Army doctor, but I've been educated on your species physiology."
Palgret joined the others in starting to get up. The Mantid waved her arm. "Sit down so 338 can check your armor."
They all sat.
She moved to each of the little trio. She looked over the hologram projected just to her right as she examined Palgret. "Hm, muscle strain like the others. Blood pressure's a little high, but it fits with your anxiety metrics. No major defects," she snapped off the holo. "You're fit to fight, just slight fatigue and muscle strain. Take this," she held out a pill, which Palgret took and swallowed. "It'll help with the muscle strain and still leave you able to fight."
"Thank you," Palgret said.
"Let's hope you don't have need to see me again any time soon," the Mantid said. She looked at the green mantid, who had just gotten done turning Palgret's helmet over and over in its hand. "338 says your like everyone else, your environmental systems aren't up to extended use. He's going to do some minor adjustments."
"Only authorized personnel are allowed to do maintenance on armor systems," Palgret said. He looked at the green mantid as saw that it was projecting a small holo over his head of the Maintenance and Logistics Corps. "Oh."
The holo switched to a closed fist with the thumb pointing up.
"He says not to worry, he's certified by your own people," the black mantid on the right said.
Palget held still, sighing with relief when the armor suddenly started circulating cool air, not cold enough to be chilly, but cool enough to lower his body heat output. He watched with interest as the green mantid took each rifle, took it apart all the way down to the molycirc blocks, then put them together, twice after making small repairs. He finished with the last rifle and the icon appeared between his antenna again.
"All right. Go ahead and eat and rest. I'll tell Sergeant Ringman that you all need a break," the mantid said. She looked at everyone and flashed a smiley-face between her antenna. "It's almost aggravating how they can outwork everyone but a robot, isn't it?"
All three Maktanan nodded.
"I heard they can have robotic parts implanted, even replaced limbs and vital organs," Clanvut blurted out. "Is that why they can work so long?"
The Mantid chuckled and shook her head. "No. It's just the way they're designed. And the parts are cybernetics, far beyond the normal eye or ear replacements your people have."
"How long can they work for?" Stungut asked. "Aren't they going to be too tired to fight?"
"How long can they work like that?" she asked. They all nodded. "Without breaks? Properly trained, they can work for ten or twelve hours, even more. With breaks? Literal days," the Mantid said. "They'll arrange to get about six to ten hours of sleep, a little bit of stretching, and be fully fit to fight."
Palget stared at the humans that were still working. Most had removed their armor and were working in their adaptive camouflage uniforms, their weapons and equipment stacked up for easy retrieval with a Maktanan watching over it. The ones moving the heavy beams still had their armor on, but their helmets were removed.
Palget was somewhat mollified that at least those humans looked sweaty.
"I'll let your CO know that all of you need a few hours of down time to relax, get some food in you, and get a little bit of sleep," the russet colored mantid said. She turned away. "All too soon there won't be any chance to sleep."
Palget felt his skin prickle up at that. Not so much the words, but the way she said them.
TWENTY HOURS REMAINING
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Mana'aktoo looked over the holomap of the entire system. The Terran Space Force vessels had sped all over the system, dropping shoals of gear. Hypercom buoys were scattered everywhere, providing the entire system with real time communication. All three asteroid belts were seeded with enhanced virtual intelligence combat systems, from missile launchers to mass drivers. Every moon, every one of the smaller planets, were all playing host to Terran defense systems. Scanning systems were seeded from the Oort Cloud to orbiting the sun.
Admiral Schmidt had requested permission, and both Mana'aktoo and Kulamu'u had granted it, to turn the system into "one fuckoff fortress of go fuck yourself" in the time they had.
Space Force vessels had moved into the long convoys of automated freighters, hiding among them, looking like nothing more than large ore haulers. Some had hidden in the gas giants, others were hidden by the asteroids.
Nearly fifty vessels were in a grouping, ready to break out into squadrons to take on the Type-III combat machines when they arrived.
The damage to the Task Force that had warned him of the oncoming Precursors had all been repaired, the ships refitted, the dead replaced. The troopships had landed their complements or were preparing for boarding actions.
Despite the fact that the Precursors jumped out, specialized teams, with communications gear that could transmit in Hellspace and that could reach out hundreds of light years, were ready to board the automated war machines just to give the Terran military the information of where the ships were jumping too.
A one way trip, yet hundreds volunteered, Mana'aktoo thought to himself. Seeing all of this, watching these preparations, I no longer wonder why these humans dominated everything thrown at them so quickly. They pile onto any perceived foe like they are fighting a predator just outside the cave where their females and young are hiding.
He stared at the holomap again.
His own vessels, his tens of thousands of ships, were hidden away, hiding in the gas giants, in comet trails, in the asteroid belts.
He wondered how many of them would survive to see the end of the battle.
TWELVE HOURS REMAINING
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"All right, depending on the geometry when they jump in, we'll have between two and ninety hours to prepare," the Terran was saying as he paced back and forth. He was being broadcast across the command channel and every being was watching. "We already know that the weight of metal they are bringing is extensive. Space Force and the Sword Hoof Navy will have their hands full with the space borne clankers."
The Terran stopped pacing, turning and facing everyone. "We'll handle the landers. We doubt they're going to full planetary destruction. This system is too resource rich, but these are Type-III's, and there isn't enough data to predict what they're going to do."
"Commanders, you have your orders. Troopers, you know your jobs, you will be assigned your missions once we see how the enemy is deploying. You all are trained and fit to fight," the Terran stepped forward, so that he was made large. "This is your world, behind you are your families, and we'll stand shoulder to shoulder with you."
"It's jawnconnor time, and you know what that means," he said.
The holo winked out as the humans gave a resounding reply.
"SMASH THOSE METAL MOTHER FUCKERS INTO JUNK!"
SIX HOURS REMAINING
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"Are we ready?" Mana'aktoo asked.
"As ready as we can be," Kulamu'u replied. "It's up to the people doing the fighting now."
"Digital Omnimessiah preserve us all," Admiral Schmidt said.
ONE HOUR REMAINING
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"All troops, stand by."
TEN MINUTES REMAINING
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"Here they come," Numsret said over the command channel.
ESTIMATED POINT OF ENEMY ARRIVAL
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The Hellspace breaches were small, pinpoint, barely allowing the machines to slip through.
They opened by the thousands, the tens of thousands, out in the Oort Cloud.
The machines used graviton stealth drives to lunge away from their deployment point even as they engaged their systems to extend out their arrays.
The Goggle-Imps blinked their great big googly eyes and stared at the system, whispering the data back to the oncoming armada.
DAWN OF THE FIRST DAY