Feel us breathe upon your face

Feel us shift, every move we trace

Hunt you down without mercy

Hunt you down all nightmare long

Metallica - “All Nightmare Long”

Marshal Antuma started to rise as Prime Minister Singh entered the chamber, but she waved him back down as she took her seat. She clenched her jaw in a hard line as she looked around the room at both her fellow ministers and the military representatives. She took a moment to steel her resolve before giving the Marshal a nod.

“All right...tell me. What happened at Persephone?” she said in measured tones, though her calm demeanor fooled no one.

Kwasi took a deep breath and met her gaze. “Prime Minister, at approximately 1750 hours, local time, Persephone was struck by what appears to have been a Relativistic Kinetic Kill Vehicle. We’re still in gathering data, and we have only a single image of the vehicle itself, taken a split second before impact. But I can tell you this much, the device was artificial...and that this was no accident.”

“I’m sorry...a Relativistic Kinetic Kill Vehicle?” the new Saurotaur Minister Thrassath interjected before Leandra could respond. “What is that?”

“In layman’s terms, it is a spacecraft that has been accelerated near the speed of light,” Antuma replied, “though in this case, the vehicle in question seems to have been little more than a propulsion system and reactor, with just enough computer control to guide it to its target. We have scrutinized the evidence, and the numbers are staggering. Given our best estimates, the energy discharge was approximately thirty thousand gigatons of explosive force.”

The silence following that pronouncement was deafening. The other Ministers stared at him in shock, struggling to make sense of it.

“Survivors?” Leandra asked, after digesting that difficult fact.

“...None,” he replied. “Perhaps some microbes, on the far side from the impact...which means over one hundred million people were wiped out of existence.” Kwasi’s professional mask was in place, leaving him wooden and stiff. To the uninitiated, it might seem as if he didn’t care about those deaths, but in fact, the opposite was true. It was only by clinging to his professionalism he could cope at all. “There were several ships in the system, which is where we’ve drawn most of our data from, but it destroyed all ships in orbit at the time of the blast.”

“...dear God,” she whispered. “Do we have any idea who might have done this?”

“I think that’s obvious, Prime Minister,” Admiral Fujimoto answered. “It has to be the Khonhim. Unless someone here has any other suggestions.” She glared at them, daring them to disagree.

“But why now?” the Ronin Minister Ω 445 Intersect Γ asked aloud, “and why a human world? I do not disagree with you, Admiral, for I cannot imagine another party being involved, but the Khonhim showed no interest in attacking human worlds during the previous war.”

“Because we intervened,” she shot back. “If we hadn’t stepped in when we did, the Khonhim horde would have destroyed the Triumvirate. If they’ve decided to try again, it only makes sense to eliminate the biggest threat first.”

“But Persephone was not a military target,” the Ophiptera Minister Byzaagaab said in confusion. “There was no fleet based there, no critical industry...no obvious reason for it to be attacked.”

“I believe there was, Minster,” Nassat said, “and Admiral Fujimoto has put her finger on the reason.” His inclusion in this meeting was almost an afterthought, but given his ascending star, he was a welcome addition. “Persephone was attacked because it was a human world. Whether it was what we would consider a military target was most likely immaterial in the eyes of the Khonhim. Even now, I believe they consider humanity to be as dangerous as they view themselves, whereas the other races of the Tetrarchy…”

“...are still considered to be little more than cannon fodder,” Hélène finished before giving Nassat an apologetic look. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he agreed.

“Fine...we’re all in agreement it must be the Khonhim who attacked Persephone, absent any conflicting data,” Leandra interjected, as she steered the discussion back to its roots. “The more important questions are these...is there any way of knowing when and where they’ll strike again, and can we stop another attack once they have launched it?”

The Marshal and the Admiral shared an uncomfortable look before Kwasi answered. “No, Prime Minister...there is not. Not easily, at any rate.”

“Do you mean to tell me there’s nothing we can do?” she growled. “The Khonhim can just fire one missile after another until Earth itself is destroyed? Because I am telling you right now, that answer is unacceptable.”

“If...and I stress if...we locate the launch vehicle before an attack, then we have an excellent chance of preventing it from taking its place. Short of that?” Antuma shook his head. “We could try deflecting it somehow, but considering how large an area we would have to cover, and the very brief window we would have in which to work with...Ma’am, preventing another attack will require a great deal of luck.”

“What about planetary shields?” Leandra asked. “We never placed them around our own worlds, after seeing how the Khonhim defeated them but is it possible they would shield us?”

“No, Prime Minister,” Kwasi said. “It would take months to build and emplace the generators needed for the shields...months that we do not have. And as you said, the Khonhim already know how to defeat them. We can and will do everything in our power to hunt down the ship or ships responsible for this attack...but at the moment we are at a loss as to how.” He took a deep breath, and mumbled, “...I am sorry, Ma’am.”

For a moment it looked as if the Prime Minister was about to launch into one of her famous tirades...but instead she rose to her feet and turned away, looking at something only she could see. The seconds stretched out into minutes until she spoke at last.

“...if we are unable to prevent another attack, then at the very least we can ensure the Khonhim live to regret their decision,” she said. Leandra turned and faced the others, her eyes as hard as stone. “Assemble your forces, Marshal. I hereby authorize you to do whatever it takes to wreck their ability to make war.”

The look on his face was unreadable. “Meaning…?”

“...meaning I want them broken, Field Marshal. You will send a punitive fleet to the Khonhim worlds and shatter them. You will use all means at your disposal to see that they never, ever, threaten anyone again.” She leaned forward, her eyes boring into his. “Do I make myself clear?”

“...Yes, Prime Minister,” he said softly, “crystal clear.”

The next day, a small shuttle entered the orbit of a remote Tetrarchy world. The planet itself was unremarkable, save that it was one of the few examples where its moon could support life. The satellite was sparsely populated because of its poor soil and unpredictable weather. The shuttle landed near the foothills of the moon’s largest mountain ranges, far from the beaten path. A small cottage lay nestled in the shadow of a snowy peak, requiring the lone Saurotaur who had emerged from the craft to journey by foot up a narrow and treacherous path. He took his time navigating the rocky track before arriving at the door of the humble dwelling. He hesitated for a moment as if even after the long journey he had reached his destination, only to consider turning back at the last second.

Deciding at last, he reached out to knock on the thick wooden door...only to have it swing open before making contact. The resident of the cottage stepped out to greet his visitor, saying nothing as he regarded the Saurotaur who shifted his weight from one foot to another.

“...Hello Nassat,” Jiyazh Ghuuyaz sighed, “I was wondering when our paths would cross again.”

“Greetings, Dhyaksh...” he began, only to be waved off.

“I am no longer Dhyaksh,” the Khonhim sighed. “That part of my life is behind me.” He folded his arms as he took in the Saurotaur’s uncomfortable stance and chagrined expression. “I take it this is not a social call,” he continued, as a wintry smile appeared on his face.

“No,” Nassat replied. “You once asked for my help to help negotiate an end to the war.”

“Yes, I did,” Jiyazh acknowledged, “and for that, I am in your debt.”

The Saurotaur nodded. “…I have come to collect.”