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The shovel was a wretched thing, rescued from the debris of my once proud house. It served me in its last moments, breaking the soft soil of my once-beloved home. Now a desolate waste, filled only with pain and burning. I wielded that shovel like the weapon that it wasn’t and I struck the soil as if it was the enemy that had defeated us. I laid my hopes into our friendly ground with trembling and bleeding hands and covered them in broken flowers from our shattered garden. I snapped the handle so that it would never dig again and stumbled out to whatever future was left to me. I brought only a knife, the final answer to a question we had never asked.

----

The Council was convened in haste, the members bleary-eyed and shocked by the events now playing out on their far-flung worlds. The First asked the obvious question, “Who? Who is doing this?”

The uniformed officer raised a limb, “We are. Those were our ships, our troops. Our entire machinery of war has been taken by some force… and it is killing our own people. We are betrayed.”

------

I drank from a bloodied stream, indifferent to some future illness. The contrails of our once beloved Fleet cut across the sky, a map of the sudden death that they had dropped on us. A fading scar on the gentle sky. Then I heard the voices, soft noises from someone trying to be discrete.

“Sir, all targets have been achieved. I’m moving to the next quadrant.” There was a pause as whoever was speaking listened to the mumbled response.

“Yes Sir. Moving now. ETA is three hours, depending on the resistance. Not that I expect much, not from this bunch of farmers.”

I had been a farmer until they had burned it all down. A grower of things, a provider for all, a guardian of my land. I grew angry at this fool that thinks that I am soft, that the ever war with the soil and the sky should be so disrespected. My mate and I had built something beautiful and this fool thought we were chaff. I laid my pack on the ground and drew my knife, a trusted tool that had never tasted living blood.

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XCC picked up the first rumours of trouble when a border satellite reported the space of the Aexton Amalgamation was refusing entry to all ships. Little attention was paid until an irate mining ship reported that they were being refused permission to leave. In an entirely predictable outcome, the ship had trashed the satellite and left anyway. Their Engineer reported that some sort of civil war had broken out and that someone needed to “Get the fuck out here and kick some ass. Bastards are slaughtering the civilians.”

------

I had dealt with death many times on the farm, a fact that should have chilled this mad fool's belief that farmers were soft. He looked young, even now with blood faltering from his neck he looked like a sleeping child. I had been hardened by years in my fields, I had wept over killing a beloved animal but it had never stayed my hand and this was no different. I held him as he died, as the wound given by my thirsty knife drained him of life. I was not cruel and I had struck well and deep. It was soon over and my few tears mingled with his blood as I whispered the Passing Words to him, may he rest the softer for them.

Then I gathered his weapons and reclaimed my pack.

-------

XCC called Fleet, Fleet called the AI-Alliance and they talked to everyone. Within an hour a grim picture of opportunistic betrayal and rampant murder was the focus of humanity.

The Director watched as his staff got a little older, a little greyer. “Alright, declare the systems of the Aexton a disaster area. Pull our people out, get our diplomats in there right now. Send them in battleships. Fleet, I need you ready to take the whole fucking mess down. If they can’t fly they can’t blow up their own cities. Intel, I need you to track and trace this mess. Find out who I’m supposed to talk to. Ask the Red Fleet to move, with my compliments and tell them we will pick up the bill.”

The polished wheels of mankind spun up, determined that those that could be saved would be. No life taken freely, no death inflicted without consequence. Humanity stood with the ghosts of its failures watching and trying to be better.

The Red Fleet was a curious thing, at once heavily funded by humans but designed for everyone else. It was a bizarre off-shoot of the Library Project and indeed shared some of the same ideals. The Red Crescent, Red Cross and the Red Pi had found themselves handed problems with all types of Xeno life and had banded together to exchange information, then personal, then they were handed a charter and a budget and told to carry on. They were given retired Fleet ships as a matter of course and they were sponsored by anyone that needed to save their reputation. It had come as something of a shock to a collection of people that had just wanted to help when they became a political and logistical force in the galaxy and between themselves, they referred to themselves as ‘Disasters R Us’. This practised Fleet began to converge on the disaster area.

------

The weapons were in a sad state. I took them apart and gave them the sort of attention they deserved, a deep clean and with a whispered apology. The young man that lay cooling on the dirt was obviously remiss in looking after his tools. I searched him for ammunition and took what he had. I left him with my knife in his hand so that he wouldn’t face the demons without a weapon. His Comms chattered at me, familiar and local voices calling death on me and mine. My new long-gun would meet them on the road and the sun would fall on their dead, as it had fallen on mine.

----

“This is the Human Rescue and Recovery Fleet. We are responding to the declared disaster in your territories and we need data.”

The Xeno satellite sat there being stupid until a canned voice stated, “No Ships are permitted. Please apply to your local Consol for a visa.”

The Director of the Red Fleet shook her head, “Okay, tell our Engineers not to punch that piece of shit out of space or hand its broken shards to Intel. I’ll expect a report about nothing in an hour. We move to the first target now.” She looked at her notes. A farming world, with 53 million inhabitants and a three-per cent attrition rate. Shit. That was a lot of bodies. She hit the Comms.

“We are going into an ongoing war. We know nothing yet so gear up.” She paused for a moment and then steeled herself to continue, “This is a bloody mess. Civil wars mean you can’t trust anyone. Get on the ground and save what we can. May Danu preserve us.”

-------

The tree was old, well grown and often cropped. My neighbour used to talk to them as he worked. He called it ‘honouring them’. He had been alone too long since his mate had passed but it had seemed to work…I found a few words and asked it to take my tired weight as I crawled up into cover. Once I had settled in I had a perfect view of the bridge and the chattering voices from the Comms told me that it would not be long.

I broke open the few supplies my drained mind had thought to grab. My child's lunchbox, ready for a schoolday that would never happen in a school that was now burning. I put that aside, preferring to die today than open it. The long-gun felt warm in my arms and I settled in with some dry biscuits.

-----

The Red Fleet drew closer as the Director read the report that had never been written. She dropped it softly on her desk and leaned back. “Fuck.” She pushed a call through to the Fleet that was -as usual- hanging about like an unwanted suitor, waiting for the magic words that would somehow make it better. “Bob, get your shit together. We are under fire and need Mil-Tec. Help.”

The Admiral was calling out the orders to move in seconds. Of course he was, they had worked it out years beforehand and then he put the call on private, “Cathy, much as I appreciate the invitation, please tell me you didn’t start a war? Is someone actually shooting at you? I mean, I’ve been tempted…”

The Director snorted, “Bob. Would I lie to you?”

The Admiral smiled at that, “Cathy, you always have. I’d be lost if that changed. You good? I’ll get the Fleet on the ground as soon as I can.”

The Director began sending out her mapping and AI analysis, “Well, one of their satellites was rather rude to me. That's practically an act of war. Honestly, the shit they’re doing to each other right now, I don’t think they’ll notice us.”

-----

I knew the first vehicle, a puttering fool from the Discipline Guards. Drunks and tree fuckers the lot of them. I took a deep breath while his chattering continued on the Comms. The sights weren’t much on the long-gun but they would do. I sent a tight ball of plasma right through him, his stupid voice and his idiot friends. The fireball spun out, hurling the fence and landing upside down into the river running below the road. I could hear the steam hissing from the wreck but no one escaped. Ha. Fuck you, you murdering bastards…I reloaded my gun and made myself comfortable. They wouldn’t be long.

-------

Humanity never invaded a world. They carried out rescue missions, peacekeeping or police actions. They fixed whatever it was that they thought was broken, bought souvenirs and went home. That didn’t mean that nine-thousand heavily suited green marines landing was always going to be a good day for you. The Admiral had been very clear in his orders:

“ I want their leadership under our guns. Next fucker that orders a massacre gets nailed to the door. Intel is taking control of their media. Shoot anything that won’t sit down. Free fire on anyone who thinks I have the time or the patience to watch them shoot up civilians.”

-------

I woke up with a start. I hadn’t even planned to sleep but my body still had demands, still insisted on life. I rubbed my eyes and heard the faint noises that must have awoken me. Heavy trucks on the road. More of these misbegotten tree-fuckers. I spent a moment whispering the Passing Words to myself since it was unlikely these bastards would do me the courtesy. I shielded myself behind the leaves to confuse their targeting algorithm and waited. Soon this would be over and I would answer for all but I wanted company on my road. I took a deep breath.

-------

Green landed first and they moved quickly to secure their areas. The landing craft swiftly punched themselves into the ground, nanite builders turning them into armouries and fortresses.

After some short, sharp disputes they declared their areas clear.

Red landed next, their craft becoming aid centres and hospitals. The staff ignored anyone with a gun with a palpable contempt for those still waving weapons around. They began clearing the cities and extinguishing the fires. Anyone that might have disagreed was met by a greeny with poor social skills and heavy weaponry.

The Admiral looked at the assembled ‘leadership’. Conceited, overbearing idiots that were happy to spend everyone's blood on infantile dreams. It was like being at home. He stepped up to the podium. “You are all going to play nice or I will kill you. Our Intel and Diplo are putting together a plan and then you are going to read it, sign it and smile and wave. If you don’t I will personally turn this place into a mining world. I have no idea what you are fighting about, not my job. But the next one of you that picks up a weapon dies, and the next one of you to order weapons used gets to stand in front of mine.” He leaned into it, “My guns are bigger and I know where you live. “

-------

I had never been a soldier, I had never even considered it but now I wondered who they allowed. I was out of ammunition so I walked carefully towards the wreckage of the three vehicles that had tried to take the bridge. My bridge. The first one was still burning too hot to approach, whatever I had set on fire was still burning. The second looked more promising, a delivery truck that had slammed into the fence and stalled. I had obviously shot better than I thought since the driver was dead at the wheel. Fuck you and all you were trying to do. I checked the back and it was full of supplies, all for an army of one. I grabbed a handful of supplies and turned to the latest addition. Rich, expensive and currently smouldering it had raced right into my final shot.

-------

Red 73 was having a bad day. Well, everybody was having a bad day but this one merited a call-in.

“Red Seven-Three, I have a roadblock. No signals, no ID. If I had to guess I’d say this is partisan action. Permission to clear? I have customers waiting.”

Red Fleet was known for their logistics for a reason. “Red Seven-Three, greenies on the way. Mission is full-clear. At your discretion, don’t make momma-bear mad.”

He grinned at that, “Seven-Three moving out. Bury me deep if I fuck this up, maybe she won’t find me.”

“Negative Seven-Three. She took the hells years ago, now they just heat her pool. Good luck.”

-------

I pulled open the door, stiff and hot as it was. Then I met the eyes of the chief of the Disciplinary Garrison for the district and found myself grinning. I had seen him before, sealed into his bubble of heavily-armed thugs. His voice, his orders had been what had wiped out my home and here he was sitting and panting like a child in front of me. My shot had obviously taken out the driver but he had been injured in the crash. I raised my long-gun and enjoyed the fear in his eyes.

“Stop!”

I swung around towards the sound and stopped. It was just too bizarre, a creature in a red suit. It only had four limbs. I pointed my weapon and prepared to fire but…but this wasn’t one of them. I was not a killer of innocents. “What are you? What do you want?”

The red-suited creature raised its two fore-limbs to show that it held no weapons so I lowered mine, keeping my finger on the trigger. Its voice was obviously a translator, so a Xeno. I had never met one before. It spoke, “I am a Human from the Rescue fleet. We have taken control until this mess is sorted out. I’m in Medical Recovery and this bridge is needed. There are four villages burning behind you”

I would have laughed except for the pain, “You think I don’t know? I buried my dead there when this bastard…” I turned to the vehicle, “This bastard called in the airstrikes that killed my family.”

I had heard of Humans. Tinkerers, fixers of things. I suddenly knew what I wanted to do. I raised my gun, “Turn around and count to twenty. Then you can have the bridge, you can have this whole fucking world but I want twenty seconds or I shoot now.”

I saw him realise what I meant. I saw him lower his hands and almost reach out to me. I raised my gun a little and he seemed to fold into himself, “You don’t need to do this. I can get you justice, we are here to help.”

How sweet. “Turn around and tell yourself you were a minute too late.”

The chief of the flying perverts that had killed us all had heard every word. I didn’t waste time and simply shot him, his face disappearing into a mist. Then I had a sudden thought. “Human, in my pack is a box. Bury it with me. It was for my daughter for school this morning. She went ahead of me and she should be getting hungry soon.” I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t feel a thing as I brought the gun to my head.

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“Red Seven-Three reporting that the road is open. Clear to advance. I just have a little housekeeping to do.”