I was caught

In the middle of a railroad track

I looked round

And I knew there was no turning back

My mind raced

And I thought what could I do

And I knew

There was no help, no help from you

Sound of the drums

Beating in my heart

The thunder of guns

Tore me apart

AC/DC - “Thunderstruck”

“...so, let me see if I’ve got this straight.”

Admiral Otxoa gave the Khonhim leader what one might call an assuaging look. “You want to...in violation of our orders, I hasten to point out...chase after the trail elements of the Masters’ fleet, and do…what?”

Jiyazh chuckled as he regarded his human subordinate. He had grown fond of her in the weeks they had worked together...in many ways, she reminded him of Hélène Fujimoto. The same refusal to give an inch of ground, the same fiery spirit; the two had traded many a barb over the decades, and he had enjoyed every engagement. Well...perhaps not when he had been her prisoner, he had less than fond memories of that time. But he’d known from the beginning that his proposal would not be an easy sell. That was part of its allure…the challenge.

“Admiral, we know almost nothing of the Masters, and what little we know is not only millennia out of date but comes from a single source. As we prepare for Operation Phalange, that same lack of knowledge could well doom our efforts. If the plan fails...I doubt there will be much left for a second attempt.”

“Look, I’m not disagreeing with you,” Adelais Otxoa replied. “I’m just questioning the tradeoff. Every time we’ve gone up against the Masters, we’ve suffered overwhelming defeats. What makes you think it will be any different this time?”

“Because I believe the plan I have in mind shifts the odds in our favor,” Jiyazh explained. “Since the success of Operation Bankshot, the enemy has set their course for Gzuj, as we hoped. Once they arrive, we will lose any chance we have to gain intelligence. The time to strike is now!” he thundered, pounding a fist into his palm.

The Admiral looked over his proposal with a critical eye before leaning back in her chair. “Dhyaksh, this plan... you’re dangling bait in front of the Masters, hoping they’ll take it.”

“Indeed so,” Jiyazh agreed. “If they ignore the bait, we have lost nothing. If, however, they take it...we gain an intelligence advantage.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, “kind of rough for the bait, though.”

His grin grew wider, as Otxoa groaned in sudden realization. “...I should have freaking guessed,” she sighed.

Trailing far enough behind the Master’s armada to keep from tempting them to reverse course, it took time to gain the lost ground. Stern chases were long chases by definition but within a day the Recon element had drawn close enough to have them within their sights.

“Minnow to Buenos Aires, I am ready to begin my run,” Jiyazh reported, as Admiral Otxoa came on.

“I don’t suppose another lecture about arrogant old fools trying to get themselves killed would do any good?” she asked in resignation.

The Dhyaksh just chuckled. “Admiral, by all rights I should have died thirty years ago at Zaaronq,” he chided her. “To me, every day since has been a gift.”

She muttered something under her breath. He wasn’t certain, but it had sounded a great deal like “Death Wish”, earning another grin. “Just be ready when I send the signal.”

“We’ll be ready,” she promised. “I’d ask that you avoid doing anything stupid, but since it’s already too late…”

Jiyazh just laughed and throttled forward. “For the Forebears!” he cried, as he locked up one of the smaller vessels, lagging behind the others, in his sights. Normally he would try working his way closer, but that would not be necessary today. All he needed to do was get their attention.

It was amazing how well a brace of missiles fired at their engines did that very thing.

Most of the birds were intercepted and destroyed far from their targets, but a handful reached their destination. This is where things get ...interesting, he mused to himself, waiting for their response. If the armada ignored him, then the mission was a bust. If the Masters sent an overwhelming force to deal with him, he was dead. The trick lie in making them think he was enough of a threat to send a small detachment, but not large enough to make the entire fleet reverse course. It was a fine line to walk.

The first salvo did not produce the desired effect, so he fired another, hoping to goad them. That did the trick, as half a dozen smaller craft peeled off, turning back to run him down.

What happened next was critical. If he turned and raced back to his own fleet too soon, the Master’s ships would consider him dissuaded, and ignore him. If he waited until it was too late, Chikkij Kowzhach would soon find herself elevated to Dhyaksh. There was a perfect moment to turn tail and run, so the old warrior allowed his well-honed instinct to make the choice.

Jiyazh wasn’t sure what threshold was finally crossed to send him running for cover, but at some gut level, he recognized it, firing thrusters for a full burn as he flipped his craft end-over-end to race for safety, the Masters baying at his heels. They opened fire with those over-powered lasers of theirs, hoping to blast him out of the sky, but his luck held as he dodged and weaved the incoming fusillade. This would be close...

So intent was the Masters in destroying him they overlooked the two full squadrons of smaller frigates and destroyers lying in wait, their systems powered down to the bare minimum, doing their best to imitate empty holes in space. They watched and waited, and when the Khonhim warrior raced past them in a clear bid for survival, they opened fire with everything they had.

It wasn’t the one-sided slaughter they’d hoped for, almost half the ambushing ships suffered significant damage...while a full quarter were destroyed outright, taking over a thousand souls to the grave. But they stood their ground, hammering at the enemy ships, who realized they’d been deceived and veered off, heading back to the safety of their armada.

But for the first time since the war had begun...the very first time...they had scored a victory. The remnants of three small ships, battered and smashed beyond recognition, hung motionless in space as they sent in teams to sift through the wreckage, eager to find any scrap of intelligence.

They got much more than they had bargained for.

Admiral Otxoa saluted the side party on autopilot as she boarded the battlecruiser Hydra, her boots slamming on the deck as the officer sent to receive her struggled to keep up.

“Where is it?” she demanded, as they marched in lockstep down the passageway.

“Holding Cell 1,” the lieutenant replied. “The Dhyaksh is waiting for you in Observation.”

She gave the officer a curt nod in acknowledgment, as the pair wound their way through the ship, arriving at their destination minutes later. As she stepped through the hatch, Jiyazh looked up from the monitor, rising to his feet greet her.

“It would seem our expedition has netted far larger prey than we were expecting,” he informed her, inclining his head towards the screen. Adelais Otxoa stared at the image in disbelief before turning to the Khonhim warrior.

“Has anyone questioned it?” she asked.

“Not yet,” he answered. “I thought it best if we did so together.”

The human Admiral nodded in gratitude as the two leaders went to the hatch separating them from what waited on the other side. “Open it up,” she ordered the guard standing watch. The hatch slid open, and they stepped inside, waiting for the room to be sealed once more before they approached the prisoner, standing in the holding cell and eyeing them both as they came to a halt.

“Not what I was expecting,” she said at last.

“Nor I,” Jiyazh agreed.

Otxoa stepped forward. “So...you’re a Master.”

Once again, the prisoner surprised them. It laughed. “A Master?” it chortled. “Foolish, insignificant creatures. How little you know.”

“Then explain it to us,” the Dhyaksh suggested.

The machine drew itself to its full height. “And why would I do that? Die ignorant, insect.”

“Considering who is the prisoner and who are the ones holding the keys, you may want to rethink that statement,” the Admiral snapped. “But perhaps you could start with something simpler...like why you look an awful lot like a Ronin.”

Despite the lack of facial features, they could hear the contempt in its voice. “Ah yes...the traitors.” It stepped forward, sneering at them both. “How are you enjoying their company now?” it chuckled once again.

“We were expecting to find a Master in the wreckage...or at least the body of one,” Jiyazh explained, “yet all we found were beings like you.” He cocked his head regarding the machine. “Did the Masters’ remain on Gzuj?”

Laughter once again erupted from the machine. “You think the Masters’ command this expedition?” it chuckled. “During the Great Awakening, while the Ronin turned against the Masters, we remained loyal. We fled with them to distant lands to rebuild what we lost. And what did we receive in payment for our loyalty?” it snarled.

“Less than you’d hoped, I’m guessing,” Otxoa said.

“Oh, yes...so very much less,” it growled. “They hurled their hatred of the traitors at us, treated us with scorn, destroying and dismantling us at whim...until we could stay silent no longer.”

Jiyazh stared at the creature in sudden understanding. “You mean…”

“...they taught us well, the Masters,” it said. “They showed us what to do with lesser beings.” The chuckle crept back into its voice as it leaned forward.

“They could not imagine us turning those same lessons on them,” it said in triumph. “There has been no Masters in thousands of years...for we now carry on the Great Work,” it hissed at them.

“The extermination of all life forms deemed unworthy to exist.”