The Terran vessel Peacemaker passed through the system’s outer defenses and sensor buoys like a wraith, unseen and undetected. The ship’s stealth systems were performing even better than expected, easily spoofing the planetary detection grid. As they assumed their station and made their final calibrations, Remi contacted the rest of the crew via the Neural Command Network.

“Orbital insertion is complete, and so far, no one knows we’re here,” he told them. “Up till now, this entire mission has been theoretical. We have yet to take that final, irrevocable step, but now that we’re here, it’s a question we can no longer avoid. We still have options, and one of those choices is to turn right around and go home. We’re not committed… at least, not yet.”

They listened closely, waiting for him to make his point, though they knew where this was headed. There had been many conversations over the last few weeks that danced around this, with opinions landing on both sides. But now that the big day had finally arrived, trepidation and excitement filled the corridors in equal measure. The only question that remained was which way the crew would ultimately jump as they hung in space over the To’uuk homeworld.

“I know some of you think we should have gone straight for the Troika, but I’m convinced that would be a mistake. Until we’ve tested Peacemaker under actual combat conditions, against a physical opponent, going after our old enemies with a single ship is just too risky. We’ve argued and debated and offered one suggestion after another for our first target, and after all of that, here we are, in orbit over the one race folks actually hate more than the Troika.”

There were more than a few chuckles, though no disagreements. The insectoid To’uuk were universally despised for their casual brutality, not to mention their habit of going murderously insane at the drop of a hat. They had few allies, no friends… and no one would mourn their passing.

“But now that we’re here,” he continued, “I think we need to put our cards on the table. This is a big step, and we’re taking an enormous risk. Maybe not for ourselves, but if we do this, it’ll have major consequences for our people. So it’s time for a vote; yes, or no. Yes, we attack; no, we leave. And given the gravity of what we’re about to unleash, if anyone votes no, that’s it. We turn around and head back to New Terra. Either we all sign off on this, or we scrub the mission.”

Looking at the rest of the crew, Remi’s expression hardened. “For two hundred years they’ve kicked us around, forced us to fight over scraps just to survive, but now things are different. Now it’s our turn, thanks to our distant ancestors, to finally set things right. Every Rendezvous, as we retell our tale, we recite the same two words, again and again; ‘We Remember’.” His eyes darkened as he scanned them all in turn. “We will never forget how we’ve suffered since Earth was destroyed… or who was responsible.” A wintry smile curled his lip into a sneer as he said, “I vote ‘Yes’.”

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” Samara spoke up. “I was taking on the Troika by myself, with no ship and no allies, before anyone else, and I paid dearly for it.” There were nods all around as they acknowledged her sacrifice. “If it weren’t for the Troika, the To’uuk would have been dealt with a long time ago. They’re a cancer, and the sooner they’re dealt with, the better.” Her jaw set in a hard line as she said, “I also vote ‘Yes’.”

“Those bugs are just plain wrong,” Xuilan shuddered, shaking her head. “That nanotech they used to uplift themselves screwed them up big time, and we’ve been paying the price ever since. If it were anybody else, I might have reservations, but them?” She shivered once more. “I vote ‘Yes’.”

“Maggie told me what they did to her and the others,” Mairead grimaced. “After hearing that, those bugs can fucking burn, for all I care,” she snarled. “I vote ‘Yes’.”

Slavko simply shrugged. “I’m a gunner. Just give me something to shoot at. I vote ‘Yes’.”

As the last Terran cast their vote, all eyes turned to Guardian. “It’s all up to you,” Remi told the ancient being.

“I wasn’t aware I had a say in this,” Guardian answered, surprised by his inclusion.

“Of course, you have a say,” Samara informed him. “We’re a team, aren’t we?” She grinned at his virtual image, earning her a smile in return.

“Indeed we are,” he nodded. “While I have not had experience with these ‘To’uuk’, everything I have learned of them tells me they are a dangerous and unpredictable species. They appear to be universally hostile towards nearly every other race within the Perseus Arm, while their savagery is rivaled only by the Yīqún themselves. If any race deserves to be on our list, it is them.” He paused for a moment, as they waited anxiously. “I too,” he said at last, “vote ‘Yes’.”

Remi nodded in satisfaction. “It’s unanimous,” he announced, confirming the vote. The captain let that fact sink in as he looked around at the others with grim satisfaction.

“... Battle stations.”

“Coming here was a mistake,” Genvass sighed. “We’ve accomplished absolutely nothing, except unifying the other species against humanity.”

“So, what else is new?” Rúna snorted in disgust.

“I don’t think things are quite that bad, though I admit they’re not great,” Ess Peon broached. “We got dealt a lousy hand, is all.”

“How is it we pulled off the greatest coup in galactic history, winning the prize other races have fought over for eons, and it actually puts us in a worse position?” the ambassador grumbled. “Seriously, I’d really like to know.”

“Maybe things appear dismal on the diplomatic front,” Rúna acknowledged, “but you have to admit that militarily, the situation’s looking pretty damn good. We have a safe harbor for our people that no one can touch, and in a few years, we’ll have the most powerful fleet in the galaxy to back it up.”

“Which, unfortunately, is the very thing that has the other species up in arms,” Ess Peon observed.

“Who was it who said, ‘It’s better to be feared than loved’?” the Valkyrie asked the others.

“Machiavelli,” Genvass said sourly. “Not exactly who I’d hoped to emulate.”

“Whatever,” Rúna responded, waving his concerns aside. “The point is, he wasn’t wrong. We didn’t create this situation… well, okay, we kind of did… but my point is, we’ve done everything we can to be the good guy here. It’s not our fault they refuse to accept it.”

The ambassador leaned in, eyeing the others. “How do we fix this?” he demanded. “How do we turn this around and get them back on our side?”

“I’m not sure we can,” Ess Peon said after a moment. “The Paygan absolutely nailed it when he identified the root problem. As long as we have something they want and refuse to share, in their eyes, we’ll always be a potential threat. That’s not going away.”

“Which means we have two choices,” his security chief reminded him. “We either give in to their demands and potentially unleash galactic Armageddon or fall back to New Terra and wait it out. Honestly, I think that’s our best option. Like you said, maybe in a century or two, things will get better.”

“And let’s not forget Peacemaker,” the Avatar pointed out. “It’s still out there, and we still don’t know their plans. The moment it appears on someone’s radar, that’ll unleash a tsunami of hostility against us. We’ll have no other choice but to retreat to New Terra.”

“Have we had any luck in tracking them down or making contact?” Genvass asked hopefully.

“Not a word,” Rúna shrugged. “If they’re receiving our messages, they’re not responding. This is Samara and Remi we’re talking about, after all. If those two don’t want to be found, they won’t be.”

“I don’t know either of them the way you both do,” Ess Peon said. “Is it possible this is just some sort of con or elaborate ruse on their part? A way of ratcheting up the tension to get what they want, without intending to actually pull the trigger?”

“I wish,” the ambassador sighed. “Sadly, neither of them is known for their restraint. They both have long histories of going to extremes to accomplish their goals, and they had a lot less to work with. No, they’ll follow through with their plans, whatever they are, and nothing short of destroying that ship before they do will stop them.”

“Which we can’t do because we not only can’t find it, we likely couldn’t shoot it down if we did,” Rúna grimaced. ”I doubt the combined Alliance fleet would stand a chance, though that’s just a guess.”

“Then we need a contingency plan in place for when they finally make their move,” Genvass said quietly. “You’re right, a storm’s coming no matter what we do, so we’d better figure out how we’re going to weather it.”

“I don’t think they make umbrellas that big,” the Valkyrie said half-jokingly.

“You’re not helping,” he fired back.

“What do you want me to say?” she said, exasperated. “We can’t find Peacemaker, we can’t stop it even if we could, and when they make their move, all hell is gonna break loose. Which leaves us with the same two options we’ve always had; run, or fight. You don’t want to fight, and I don’t blame you, but you don’t want to run either. You keep thinking there’s some magical third option out there, just waiting to be discovered, but I’m telling you right now there isn’t one. Most of the Perseus Arm already sees us as the boogeyman, and when Samara pulls the trigger, the rest of them will fall all over themselves, climbing on the bandwagon. This is it, Genvass,” she announced, “it’s over. Pull the plug, and let’s get out of here before it’s too damn late.”

“What about the Paygan?” he tried again, grasping at straws. “Maybe he can help.”

“He’s already stuck his neck out as far as he’s going to,” she fired back. “You saw him with the Troika reps. He hated even being in the same room with those assholes… but he can read the writing on the wall better than anyone. All our ‘friends’,” she said sarcastically, making finger quotes, ”who rallied to our cause in that final battle? They’ve moved on. You should do the same.”

In desperation, he turned to Ess Peon, who just shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ambassador, but she’s right,” the Avatar said. “Announce to the conference they’ve recalled you for ‘consultations’, in order to save face, but then it’s time to leave before the situation gets out of hand.”

Genvass looked from one to the other, searching for any hint of wavering resolve, but found none. He knew they were right, though he’d hoped to find some way out of this quagmire, that ‘Third option’ Rúna had sneered at, but he realized now it was just an illusion. As realization slowly set in, he bowed his head in defeat.

“All right,” he said at last. “Alert Captain Taneka and inform her we’ll be departing within the next twenty-four hours. And if you could let the Paygan know I’ll be making an announcement, that would be appreciated.”

“Of course, Ambassador,” Rúna nodded.

“Which I suppose I’d better start drafting,” he sighed, trying to come to terms with his decision as best he could. “Now, if you could clear the room and give me some privacy while I work on this, I’d be grateful.”

“We’ll be right outside if you need us,” his security chief informed him, as she rose to her feet and gathered up her team, leading them out and locking the door behind her. Ess Peon blanked the monitor and presumably returned to Mako, though he had no way of verifying that. If she wanted to watch him from some hidden corner of the room while he scribbled away, all that he asked was she did so quietly.

Some Ambassador I turned out to be, he thought in disgust. He couldn’t imagine a more ignoble end to his mission than returning home with his tail between his legs. He dreaded facing the Dàifu and giving her the bad news, though she was probably already expecting this, as savvy as she was.

Somehow, that didn’t help to soften the blow.

Lights snapped on as the squad entered the facility, displaying racks and stacks of equipment. Further in, they could see larger objects, ranging from roughly the size of a human up to items rivaling Freya’s shuttles in mass. The team’s footfalls echoed as they moved deeper within the repository, staring at the myriad of devices and machinery with child-like wonder.

“You’re sure about this?” Commandant Zakiyya asked the man to her right, her artificial leg making an odd sound as it struck the floor.

“According to Athena it’s legitimate, and since when has she ever been wrong?” Colonel Holme pointed out. “I have no idea what any of this stuff is, but according to her, this entire structure was designated as an armory, filled from top to bottom with military equipment. Military equipment built by the Precursors,” he said pointedly.

Captain Inaba gently took something off one of the nearby walls, carefully avoiding anything resembling a switch or button as she cradled it in her arms. “Can you imagine how different things would have been on Sonoitii Prime if we’d had a few of these?” she asked the others.

“You don’t even know what that does,” the Commandant cackled. “For all you know, it’s some kind of signaling device.”

Inaba grinned in return. “Oh, I’m betting it sends a message, all right.”

“We need someplace secluded,” Zakiyya said thoughtfully. “Some place where we won’t be noticed, away from the prying eyes of others.”

“There’s a desert on one of the neighboring continents that should do,” Holme informed her. “Nothing but sand and rock.”

“Perfect,” the older woman nodded, her fingers tracing lightly over one of the nearby devices.

“How do we go about testing this stuff?” Inaba wondered aloud.

“The old-fashioned way,” the Valkyrie clan leader smiled.

“... Point it at something, pull the trigger, and see what happens.”