Galactica: Book 1 - Via Lactea

 

Sitar had managed to sleep two hours during the past 24 hours and was feeling the stress of having to deal with three fronts at the same time. Fortunately, one, the home front, had been closed the day before, and he was sure that Alexander, Enron, Greywolf, and Silver Moon were doing okay, since they had yet to call upon the 5^th Swarm, their backup. He decided to pay an early visit to Thebes’ Bridge to see how things were going. Given the mass of Thebes and its intricate structure with nested tessaracts, it was impossible to get a feel of external influences from just a walk around the ship. The fact that Typhoon had not reinstated the red alert told him things were good and that he did not plan any sudden change of direction or accelerations that might put an individual doing an inner-vessel port at risk. Nonetheless, he decided to use the portal node of the nest to reach the Bridge rather than spend the energy to do it himself. Walking in on the Bridge from the vestibule, he noticed there had been another crew shift but that Typhoon was still sitting in the Captain’s chair, giving orders by the simple movement of a finger, a hand, or a look. This crew was well-oiled and knew what needed to be done. He stood behind the Captain’s chair, watching one of Greywolf’s Daughter handle the Strategic Assessment Station, the one he would normally occupy.

"Hey, Sitar!" said Typhoon, after spotting his shadow projecting in front of him. "We are engaging the Insects in orbit in about ten minutes. Do you want to stay?"

"I can not, I have a working breakfast with Dad. It is the after-action reports produced by those that actually did something in removing the foresworn felons."

"It is always a working breakfast with the Emperor. He needs to take a vacation!"

"I tried to talk to him about it; he almost fainted. He is a workaholic!"

After a few more exchanges of minor consequence, Sitar left for the Royal Mess Hall, as he did not want to be the last to arrive at the Royal table. He emerged from the left portal just as Zen, Mark and Ovid did from the right portal, followed soon after by two very serious-looking Australopithecus Regressi in full Centurion uniform. The sudden appearance of Tom and Jerry brought a few smiles from those who had not seen them at work in the enclave, but the respect they got from the other Centurions that emerged from the same portal right after them began tipping the observers to the fact this was not a masquerade. The 12 Centurions and their Centuries aligned behind Tom and Jerry’s Units like they were on the parade grounds and began following Sitar in the Royal Mess Hall, Zen keeping in ‘step’ with Ovid as he led his Centurie to the Royal Table. The drumming of feet walking in step brought the hall to silence as the Centuries currently assigned to the Royal Guards stopped eating and talking to watch the unexpected demonstration of discipline.

Harold and most of the Royals were already seated at the head table, but the night shift reports had yet to be delivered. The resounding drone of men walking in step caught the attention of Harold and his wife Annabelle as they were talking to Rockhook and Tarik. Harp, Thorsten and Paschal were also busy exchanging comments on what had transpired of the night shift while they waited on their own reports to flood in. Timor’s widening eyes caught the attention of Princess Iridia, even if she was busy brushing the hair of her first-born, so she turned around to look behind her and almost fell off her high chair.

"Welcome, Sitar. I see you made my invitation to the Centurions clear," said Harold as he watched the green troops stand at attention like some Mage has inserted a steel rod in their back. "At ease!"

"Yes, your Imperial Highness."

The formality of the address told everyone this was no ordinary military show, but something extremely serious. Even Harold ticked at how his son, the God of War of Atlantis addressed him.

"Present your report."

"May I ask for each Centurion to present his report? They did a remarkable work of each, writing them in a clear, concise form that should be taught at the Military Academy rather than the flowery ‘drown the fish’ ones taught there. I read them last evening and put my seal of approval without a single change required."

Harold smiled at Sitar. He knew how much his Son hated poets of the guns, writers of the blades, and other individuals that tried to balloon their importance with insignificant drivel. That the God of War had said those things in public made for a very strong statement in favour of the Centurions.

"Very well. Proceed as you see fit."

Sitar called each Centurion in alphabetical order, since there was no rank or seniority in them. Each Centurion read his report aloud, in a booming voice that resonated across the absolutely quiet Hall. When it was time for Zen to present his report, Sitar took the satchel from the Snake, and read the report himself.

«Do not worry, Zen. You and the others get a Dragonling as soon as Typhoon can bring you to a nest. You will gain shape-shifting and be able to present your reports yourself. You have one of the most beautiful scripts I have ever seen!»

Harold collected the reports, which he rubber-stamped, and they were registered in the Public Library as official after-action reports. The Pharaoh then gave the originals back to Sitar and stood up.

"I hereby order that all proposed promotions in ranks, all certificates of recognition, and all medals be allocated immediately. Harp, Prince of Magic, produce the required material, please. Timor, as Chief of Security for this shift, see to it that these Units are added to the roll for Royal Guards."

"As you command, Emperor!" resonated from Harp and Timor.

Returning to Sitar, Harold looked at him questioningly. Apparently the God of War of Atlantis had not finished.

"Emperor, I now wish to present the result of my enquiry on the performance of the veterans during the clean-up of the renegade enclave."

"Proceed."

The entire dirty mess was unwrapped in front of the entire Hall, stunning everyone. The only thing preventing a lynching of the veterans involved was the steel discipline that permeated the Atlantean Army. As each turpitude, each villainy, each act of cowardice came to light, those sitting in the Hall took it as a personal affront. Also, the contribution of the Felines in pushing the veterans to act in accordance to their mandate was brought to light by Sitar’s exhaustive report. Those sitting at the Imperial table bleached and turned purple in rapid succession, unable to maintain their usual decorum.

Sitar had barely finished his report when Spare Ribs, Fang Chao, and their families made their entry and walked down the central alley as if they were walking on needles. Their arrival was met with a thunderous applause that accompanied them until they reached the Imperial Table.

«I did not expect you this morning,» said Sitar as he looked at the Felines that sat in a tight square at his feet.

«The Hyenas took over an hour ago, aided by a Pack of Coyotes. The greasy ones are losing their roundness trying to outrun them. I have learned to trust them, even if we still have body language issues.»

«Greywolf will be pleased to hear that. What are the most common issues now?»

«Their issue is the inability to solve a problem by themselves. For them, if it is not in the book, if it is not ordered, it is impossible. I wonder if they need to be told to hit the sandbox! What was all that racket for?»

«Racket? Oh, the applause! Your contribution to the removal of the felons was made known by the reports presented by the Centurions and the God of War of Atlantis. Then your sustained efforts to make the veterans at laziness move their steaks to do their job came to light with an added report from Sitar.»

«We walk with the family. They walk with themselves.»

It took Harold a few seconds to realise the meaning of the reply. Then it hit him like a flash of insight: Spare Ribs considered them family and stood with them come sunshine or high water; the veterans were belly-centred and selfish. He stood up and walked around the table to stand beside the huge Feline and rubbed his left ear with affection.

«I am so glad you are part of the family too!» he said, eliciting a purr that drowned anything in the Hall. «How are the new Kittens?»

«I must be getting old. I do not remember my first ones being so turbulent and prone to trouble.»

«I doubt they have you and Fang Chao beat in that department. I hope your Female is doing well.»

«She is fine. She really appreciates the care she gets while she gives birth and nurses the Kittens. There is one thing we would like to know.»

«What is it?»

«One of the Canines, a Wolf from his body odour, has been helping us raising the Kittens. He is very patient with them and keeps them occupied when we are off to the Hunting Tessaract, as you call this place. Is this normal? Usually, this behaviour is reserved for close members of the family.»

«Canines, and Wolves are Canines, are Pack, and have an extended sense of family. That you have a Canine protecting your Kittens probably gives them a whole extended family numbering in the several hundred individuals. He accepts them in his pack, and you as well, by extension. You are very fortunate.»

«Okay.»

«Join us for the first meal of the day.»

The two Cats walked to their assigned place, sat down and watched meat cubes appear on their dish, still surprised after all this time to see this miracle repeat itself once again.

***

On the Icy Planet, the Atlanteans were dealing with the population they had just freed from the Insects’ detestable yoke. It was clear that the impact of the Insects was traumatic and that the Natives were dealing with a change they were not ready to face. After learning the local language, Alexander quickly addressed the issues, well aware that any delay could be fatal to their plans.

"Are you the leader of this community?" he asked of one individual, whose sex seemed indeterminate because it showed a mix of both known sexes to the Atlanteans.

"I am the only surviving Elder. They killed the others some years back, and have worked to prevent their replacement."

"I am sad to hear of this, and yet relieved it is not our intervention that produced these events. We had not yet met that life form at the time. I suggest you organise what you need to do to get new leaders as quickly as possible."

"You will not oppose the process?"

"No. We shall even help you organise it to the best of our ability. We need this community to have an established leadership so you can make proper decisions concerning your future. We even plan to help you come in contact with the other communities as we eradicate the occupant of your planet."

"Why do you do this?"

"Because we can."

"What shall we have to pay for our recovered freedom?"

"Freedom is always relative, Elder. Yes, you will recover your freedom, but the situation around the area is far from ideal, and, in the long run, we feel we can not let you on your own without there being a fair chance of another slaving species taking over your World. You need not concern yourself about payment. We do not do this out of greed, but because we have a mission: save as many life forms as possible from the collapse of the universe we are embedded in."

"I do not understand what you mean?"

"You will be given all the information you need to understand. I must inform you that we discovered the language you use has differentiated considerably from those of other People, to the point you will not be able to talk to them and be understood. We also discovered there are very few inhabited caves left. We do not know what was the original population of this World before the Insects came, but we do know that it was a lot more considerable. There are 1,296 caves still inhabited. We arrived at that value by counting the number of launching ramps operated by the invaders. I have barely a single rotation of your planet to organise the next step in the cleansing. You probably understand that time is of the essence if we are to eradicate the invaders while minimising losses on your side. The invaders have a vindictive trait that does not bode well for anyone should they realise the planet is being invaded."

"I do not know enough to decide what to do. Our keeper of stories was discovered and got crushed. He has an apprentice, but he is young and much was lost."

"You need not worry about that. We are able to track history and recover everything. That too will be made available for your use, once the Invader gets removed from this World."

"Okay." replied the young Elder, not really believing what he was hearing, much to the amusement of Alexander.

"Go with one of our crew to explore the transport tunnels and the surface. We have isothermal suits for you and anyone who decides the use them, I must warn you, the surface has changed and any farm has been destroyed by the occupying forces."

"How will we restart them? We have not seeds!"

"We shall supply the seeds."

"How? The last seeds were destroyed by them. We have been eating each other to survive!"

"We are aware. The invaders had no notion of husbandry when they conquered your planet and did not take into account your own needs. Our time data collectors have revealed as much. We have been delaying sending out the life-form collectors because we do not know if the form available before the invasion would survive the new conditions. Weather has taken a change for the worse, growing season has shortened, and we suspect most plants of old would not make it today."

"We are doomed!"

"If what we have seen so far is any indication of things to come, you were doomed within this cycle anyway. What the invaders did was tantamount to a genocide. That you lasted 60,000 years under these conditions tells us your population base must have been considerable until their arrival. What I shall ask my brother Harp to do is to dedicate a tessaract segment to growing your food in accelerated cycling, thus giving you a fair chance of making it. Since you need food support without delay, we already have a group working on determining what we can give you from our reserves without poisoning you. Let me see how things are going there."

Too shocked at the rather diminutive figure’s decisiveness, the Elder looked at Alexander with a certain amount of awe tainted with a fair dose of fear. Alexander understood the Elder’s feeling and invited him to sit near him while relaxing to enter in telepathic communication.

«Alexander to Colibri! I need to know what you have learned on the food issue!»

«The situation is not good, Alexander. Their protein base presents dextrorotation, whilst ours presents levrorotation. In effect, all their molecules are mirror images of ours, making them impossible to assimilate. To complicate things further, they have four sets of nucleotide bases we do not produce, and we produce two they do not, ignoring the rotated nature of their proteins.»

«You lost me. How do you plan to resolve the issue?»

«If they are willing to feed on liquid proteins, I have had teams collect bacteria on their planet and put in fermentation vats to synthesise their proteins from mineral resources. The vats are in a tessaract running at 1,000 times normal rate. We should have our first ton of protein in an hour.»

«Will that be palatable?»

«You are asking for too much! This will probably taste as good as crap, but it is still better than starving to death!»

«Or practising systemic cannibalism to survive. Ask Harp to restructure the result into something a bit more edible.»

«What is more edible for them may look like puke to us. And I am sure gourmet food has evolved over the last 60,000 years!»

«We need an emergency distribution of biological collectors sent back in time to before the arrival of the Insects. Get Paschal on it!» decided Alexander. «We need it now!»

The spasm in Alexander’s face did not escape the Elder and he was worried. Alexander picked on his renewed anxiety.

"I just ordered that we send life collectors back in time to feed you. It would take too long for us to produce enough food from our biology laboratories. The only short-term solution is to collect life just after the invaders came to your world and use them as food sources for you. That way, there would be no time-travel paradox as the end result would be the same for both your species and these life forms. We will also send replicators back in time to duplicate life for storage in our stasis pods in the Ark Tessaract, but we need to adjust the stasis pods for your molecular structure. That should not take too much time."

"How long before the food comes? We are always starving."

«Colibri, how long will it take the food collectors to start transferring food through time?»

«I just contacted the Architect and he told me food should begin to flow in 15 minutes. He asked me to assess what is food and what is not from the ecosystem data streams before he released the collectors. I must now focus on the issue. The Primus Legatus you left behind at the first cave just contacted Typhoon with similar worries, and Paschal was already expecting the request from you. It seems their metabolism is slow until the planet warms up considerably, at which point it speeds up. You know, they make me think of cold-blooded animals on Earth.»

Alexander informed the Elder of the last development and then began distributing orders to prepare for the arrival of animals and plants to feed the Natives. His first order was a census of the population to feed. He ordered this be done at each freed cave. The numbers were appalling. It was quite apparent that the Insects had been using a policy of regrouping the Natives when their numbers dwindled to useless in the number of caves and that they planned or where unaware that their methods were driving the populations to extinction. Meeting with the Elder after another eight-hour shift, he made his decision clear.

"Elder, we are now going to enter phase three of this cleanup, and I must get my troops in movement. I shall leave the proper number of troops to insure proper protection for your population, exploration of surface resources, the transport tunnels and caves they may lead to, but I can not delay any longer. Other members of your people die under the grips of the invaders, and each minute counts. The moment the invaders realise they are tackling a counter-invasion, they will kill any and all of your people rather than let them fall into our hands, expecting us to use you the way they do or did in your case. Expect us back in time. We will also drop food for you shortly. It will be what your ancestors ate, so do not concern yourself with quality. As some of these foods seem do need some level of preparation, we shall supply you with the proper instructions."

Just as Alexander finished, a pallet of boxes appeared in front of him to his surprise. Reading the instructions in Atlantean, he could not help but whistle. His Brothers had been working double-time to collect the food and prepare it properly.

"This is what I mean when I say we shall feed you. This is a vegetable dish containing some type of meat and a type of what we would call algae. It used to be a rather fancy dish for your ancestors."

"How did? Where?..."

"I told you, time has no secrets for us, as long as we do not try to occupy the same space twice at the same time. We can be at two different spaces in the same time but we do not like to do this; we prefer to travel and be unique at each time frame. You need not concern yourself about the how, nor the why, but only about the results. I have to go. Sergeant! Organise the distribution of the food, and make sure there are no riots. I shall be back, Elder!"

Alexander popped to the surface and quickly set his troops in movement. He had a long trek to do, and was not too optimistic about the speed given the shadows of the mountains that loomed in his planned path. He did not feel too much enthusiasm at porting the rest of his Soldiers again. It had been a tiring experience.

***

The Marsupials’ planet was still very much under pressure from the Insects, but that pressure was diminishing by the hour. Sitar took control of the intervention with his customary efficiency, using Thebes’ mass to disrupt the organised assault the Insects were driving toward the surface. His idea was to orbit the planet at the speed of light, and using Thebes as a giant ram. The absence of replacements and the obstinate nature of the Insects allowed the Prince of Atlantis to use the same method without fail. It was as if once a response was learned, the Insects could not unlearn it under any circumstance.

As the planet below Thebes rotated slowly in its 45-hour long day, the Insects continued to emerge from the woodwork and get destroyed. It was clear that they had a strong foothold on the Marsupials’ home world, and that only the arrival and massive intervention of the Atlanteans had saved the day and them from a fate similar to the Natives on the Icy Planet.

"Paschal, how long before we get the rest of the complement for the micro-weapons?"

"They are being delivered surface-wise now. We now have the possibility to dust the planet with them, but I have been porting them at the terminal points of the Insect’s re-entry trajectories for the best results."

"Do you think those we left on the Icy Planet would benefit from the micro-weapons?"

"No. The locks must be breached and the micro-weapons are useless in long tunnels. They can only be applied when our troops have reached the caves, and then they actually become a nuisance."

"Nothing is perfect..."

"Nope."

"And how about that atmospheric fighter?"

"It is still on the drawing board. The power plant is the issue, as I told you earlier."

"Paschal? Where is Harp?"

"In my biology laboratory, manufacturing food for the Natives on the Icy Planet by Magic. Once we had examples of what they could eat from their past, it was a piece of cake for him to reconfigure surface debris into edible meals with containers and supposedly carried by a pallet. We are not using any resources from Thebes as Alexander had expected us to do."

"It is literally from the field to the plate?"

"Yes."

"Maybe we should name him head of farming and husbandry!"

«Do that and you find yourself in the polar waters tessaract.»

"Mister Harp just began getting hair where it matters and he is already turning into a grumpy teenager. Run for the hills!" lamented Sitar.

«Stop teasing my boyfriend or I shall help him in his endeavour!» thundered Thorsten from his work at creating a gas condenser so they could ‘mine’ Suns.

"Sitar, you need to back off; when these two work together, even the Devils run off!" intervened Annabelle, to much mirth from the crew.

It took a full 45 hours for the surface of the Marsupials to be cleared of concentrations of Insects, and another additional 90 hours to remove the last ones from hidden caves. The Insects had finally realised that going out was not beneficial for their health and continued survival and they stayed put, only delaying the inevitable. The Atlanteans used the micro-weapons to comb the planet’s surface for any indication of methane and targeted these areas mercilessly. Sometimes, it was a false positive, but generally, it indicated a hidden cave occupied by the Insects. The Atlanteans did not bother sending the micro-weapons inside the cave: they simply drilled holes letting in oxygen and after waiting some time, threw in a match. The result was as spectacular as it was effective: the mix of oxygen and methane detonated explosively, destroying the Insects and sometimes collapsing the cavern on them as well.

«We are done here, Alexander. The Insects are now part of the have-been. What is your situation?» asked Typhoon.

«We are in the middle of phase three. We are dealing with 81 caves, in accordance to plan. We breached them less than an hour ago and the Insects are roasting. Who wants Insects for lunch?»

«Make me puke! Do you need assistance?»

«No, the 5^th Swarm is still on hold.»

Leaving Alexander to his work, Typhoon returned to more pressing matters. He called a conference in the Captain’s Ready Room and collected the after-cleanup reports from those in charge.

"Now that the Insects are eradicated from this little paradise, what do we do?" he asked.

"We need to establish formal contact," said Ian. "We have already done so with their colony ship and showed our good will by rescuing them from the Insects and healing their wounded."

"Ian, we are still in that process. For some Marsupials, the reconstruction is massive."

"That is noted, Harp. Can we begin releasing those healed back to their planet?"

"We assumed this was a colony ship leaving the planet. We must ascertain this fact. What if it was their way to get rid of undesirables, like the British did with Australia?"

"This concern is justified but unlikely given it included Children, Sitar. However, we need to contact them whatever the actual contents of the Caterpillar ship was. What is the timetable for the healing process and regeneration of those killed by the Insects?"

"We must think about a year for full-body regeneration, as with our own population. Those that had burns are already fixed; those who lost limbs will be next, and be done in a couple of weeks. The rest are regeneration cases."

"I see. The next question addresses the spy network we have down below. What are the Marsupials doing?"

Harp stood up and had Thebes project different scenes in real-time as viewed by their spy cameras. He kept a running commentary of what was shown.

"Right now, they are busy burying their dead. We sample the body and store the genetic material for regeneration if we ever decide to do so. The issue is that most memories have degenerated to the point of being useless, so we shall get blank slates and no memories to input in them if we ever do. I think we shall use the data to establish genetic diversity more than anything else. What do you think, Colibri?"

"I agree. We can not risk increasing psychological trauma by having one living relative meet a resuscitated one that has no knowledge of the past."

"As you notice, the burial ritual is rather elaborate, even in the case of massive deaths. This tells us a lot about the culture of the Marsupials and probably will ease our contact. I just hope they are not religious fanatics. We shall see."

After taking a sip of water, Harp continued.

"The next big activity after funerals seem to be cleaning up infrastructure damage. Their houses have been systematically flattened by the Insects, in an attempt to drive them below the surface where they could be more easily contained. It backfired. They spread in the wild and survived quite well without the use of permanent settlements. The Marsupials have returned to changing places every two or three days, making the task of controlling them a lot more difficult for the Insects. It is not migratory behaviour or transhumance, which are linked for the first to population pressure and for the second to periodic climate change, but true random changes of locale to disrupt the Insects’ attempts at locating them. They had bridges and are hard at work trying the raise the decks back into place. However, the lack of heavy equipment is making the task difficult. Paschal, I think that should be your job."

"We shall drop down on them as morning rises. The Marsupials are early risers and do not seem to work much at night. Battling the Insects must have disrupted their circadian cycle considerably," Paschal expanded on his ideas.

"Sitar, plan to drop on their military or whatever is left of it and give them a hand. Thorsten, can you deal with their mining settlements? I think the Dwarves would be good at helping them with restarting their mining industry. Rockhook, they will also need policing. Blackie Dog and the smaller breeds of Canines will help your Goblins. Williams, restart their wood industry. Dunbar, you are assigned the reconstruction of roads with the help of an Army. Timor and Iridia, please handle rebuilding schools with the help of Princesses Violin and Piano. What kind of energy sources were they using before the Insects’ arrival?"

"They were using coal and charcoal," replied Paschal.

"That can not be allowed to continue. We need to find a way to kick-start more advanced, less polluting, safer, and sustainable energy production methods. Write down your suggestions and forward them to Paschal. But this is strange. How could they put into interstellar flight that huge ship with this kind of infrastructure. Banjo, that is your task: resolve that mystery. Something is fishy here. What about shipping?"

"It is composed of sail ships. That too is fishy. I think either they hid their true capacity from the Insects or the Insects forced them to regress. Banjo, I shall help you solve that issue," decided Cello.

"The next step is rebuilding their health care system. I was planning to ask Felicia, but she just went in stasis for a complete refit."

"I can handle that," suggested Queen Mother Amethyst. "I feel like some sort of decoration hanging on the wall collecting dust since our Son Thorsten took over the Throne. Would you care to join me, Diamondcutter? You handle building, I shall handle administrative issues."

"That is fine, Amethyst. I too was feeling more and more like a décor for the Privy Council room."

Thorsten looked at his parents, astonished. He had not realised they felt that way and he began feeling bad. He moved to his Mother and hugged her tightly, before doing the same to his Dad.

"I did not know you felt left out. I thought you were happy!"

"We are happy for you, Son. You have more than proved you deserve the Crown I abdicated. It is just that we need some challenges, and that Councillors to a Court that has no issues because those who might cause issue out of ambition or jealousy get shortened by a head in the blink of an eye can get boring. We do not even have issues with the other Courts, since we share both space and philosophy. I have seen you take decisions on subjects for the Fairy Court and the Goblin Court without blinking and I have learned of the other Courts do the same for Dwarves, and there seems to be no friction whatsoever between the Kings. I know you and the others are One, but it still baffles me how tightly knit the Atlantean society has become, except for the felon bloodbath that is, and even then it was not the Kings that had unity issues, it was the foresworn!"

«Luckily he does not know how tight we really are!» said Harp, as he listened to the King Father express his view.

«I doubt he would understand we can and do take each other’s place on occasion and that he is none the wiser!" replied Colibri.

«Dad would freak out!» added Thorsten.

«He would not be the only one!» said Paschal as he watched the very expressive face of the Dwarf King Father try to hide his distress.

«Gentlemen, let us get back on track. I am tired of sitting in the Captain’s chair and I want be be relieved. That will happen only when this meeting is over for one, and when Alexander is back. When I think I have to be on the Bridge for another 21 days!"

"I can always take over," said Harold.

"And be teased by Harp for the rest of my life for being a drop-out? We have an eternity ahead of us, and I shall not live under that Damocles Sword for that period!"

***

On the Icy planet, the Atlanteans made short work of finishing phase three and moved to stage four. By then they were entering the tropical areas of the Icy Planet, if that could be seen as such. It was still ice everywhere, but mostly in the form of big icebergs. Glaciers also abounded in the mountains, and the weather was worsening, with snow storms blanketing the area between the tropics and the equator. Avalanches were threatening from every overhang as the planet made its progress ever closer to its primary, its snow cover converting to treacherous streams that undermined boulder piles and rendered the ground slippery. The Mages were kept busy healing minor wounds in the moving troops, ranging from twisted ankles to broken legs and a couple of concussions from rebounding rocks. For the first time, the Princes called on the reserve to fill in lost ranks and sent back the most wounded to their back lines.

Six days into the new advance, the Atlanteans under Greywolf heard a ship fly over them, but the snow storm hid them from view, also preventing them from seeing where the ship was headed and where it came from.

«Be on alert! We have no air cover here, and the only ones with atmospheric flight are the Insects.»

The other commanders understood Greywolf’s worries and redoubled surveillance of the skies. Alexander had a group of Mages ported to the highest peak in the area.

"Assess where it comes from and crash it by Magic," he ordered.

"How?"

"I have no idea how you will do it, but I know you will, is that clear? There are thousands of ways to bring down an Insect ship, it is up to you to improvise! We are at war and I do not have time to teach you how to do your work!"

Enron was having a nightmare. He was faced with a salting of small islands blocking his progress and there were occasional breaks in the cloud cover. If they were spotted crossing the area by an Insect ship their lucky streak would come to an end. Then he remembered the huge fog bank he had caused when he had lost his temper. Why not use the same trick to hide his troop movement? After considering the pros and cons, Enron decided it was worth the magical expenditure, but would require a narrow band of extremely thick fog, and count on the ignorance of the natural behaviour of fog and weather of this type by the Insects. After all, fog banks usually blanket huge areas, far wider than the ten mile wide cover he was thinking about.

Enron moved to the sea and looked at the passing ice floes, trying to ascertain the underlying water currents and the impact it would have on the planned cover of fog. Realising he could not delay anymore, he jumped in the icy water bringing it in the immediate area to a comfortable 90˚ Fahrenheit. Fog began to rise slowly above his position, hiding him from view quickly. However, it did not seem to expand and cover the ground as it had done on the Earth. What was he missing?

After spending half an hour uselessly trying to recreate a fog cover, Enron called on Thebes’ resources. He described what he wanted and what he had been doing to one of the space-ship’s Artificial intelligence.

«Your Highness, the area you describe does not have enclosing mountains. It is open and you are merely making your position easier to spot.»

«But I need fog! For the moment, my troops are camouflaged in the snow but it will not last. The moment we move we shall stick out like ants on a picnic blanket!»

«Use the icebergs as ships, your Highness, and have them move the way you want. Magic has its uses. Your troops can even hide below, in the ice itself.»

«Hey, that is a great idea! Thanks!»

«It is my pleasure to serve!»

Enron did not hesitate. He used his entire Army of Mages to implement the Artificial Intelligence’s suggestion. Shortly, an armada of rather impressive icebergs were docked as closely as possible to the head of his column and the Mages sculpted the inside of each natural popsicle to fit as many soldiers as possible without changing the external appearance of the ice. Six hours after his exchange with Thebes, the insides were ready and the Atlanteans began moving from their holding position into the improvised ships. It took 12 hours for the last Centurie to enter the closest iceberg. It was close, as just as the hole was frozen over, an Insect ship flew over the rather tapered snow. Turning around several times and trying to figure out what might have affected the snow the way it had. Enron refrained from shooting it, for it would reveal his position.

The moment the Insect ship left the area, the fleet began moving. It was moving with the natural flow of the sea, but at a somewhat faster clip. It had been a stroke of genius for Enron to wait for the Insect ship’s departure. The iceberg left a trail behind them revealing they were moving faster than naturally moving ones. Vigils were spread everywhere, ready to alert the Mages in charge of handling the iceberg’s moves of the return of the Insects by air.

The icebergs had taken an approximate V for ease of progress. The night fell before the first alert rang out, and the icebergs were quickly brought to a halt as their speed had been reduced to prevent their getting beached while they crossed the narrow strait that would let them reach the open seas downwind of the island chain. An observer located at the top of the highest iceberg used powerful binoculars to watch what the Insects was up to and reported his observations to Enron.

«My Lord, they have landed where we crossed the ice field and are currently studying the area attentively.»

«Are there any that are still in the air?"

"Yes. I would say about a third are roaming in circles above our old position."

"Since they so want to know what happened, I shall give them a clue!"

Enron slowly cracked the ice in the mountain the Atlanteans had crossed and then accelerated the melt at the rock-glacier interface. By then the Insects had all landed and were looking around in the snow for any indication of the past events’ conclusion. Suddenly the glacier moved forward at high speed sliding in the sea, plunging in the bay the icebergs had left the same morning. The Insect ships fell in gaping crevices that opened under them and the Insects were thrown in all directions by the sudden upheaval. Most slid in cracks but some managed to survive the ride down to the sea, only to be crushed as the huge slabs of ice capsized upon hitting the shallows across the bay.

"Let us get moving slowly even if it is still dark. I want to be out of sight and out of mind by the time the Insects come and investigate what happened to their away team."

It took another 24 hours for the iceberg flotilla to reach its destination. The Insects still had to reappear. Enron quickly moved his troops into the narrow valley leading to the next staging point. As each iceberg was evacuated, it was driven at high speed to the open seas to be left to drift. To complete the process of hiding the Atlanteans’ tracks, Enron repeated the glacier trick the moment his troops had left the narrow gorge and crossed the watershed limit.

"The Soldiers rested for two days so no rest today! We have some catch-up to do! We are running 12 hours late."

The Atlanteans began a run they would not soon forget. The hillside of the mountain range was less steep than the climb had been but the path crossed numerous open fissures in the ice and quite a few narrow ice bridges that threatened collapse at any moment. The number of twisted ankles, sore shoulders, bruises, and black eyes kept climbing steadily. After six hours of the regimen, Enron called a halt for a quick lunch and an intensive session of healing before the next leg of the run. As the Atlanteans progressed, the land became dryer, and the ice cover thinned progressively to be replaced by something equally treacherous: the music of rolling stones that played the beat of bruises and twisted lower limbs as well as the ice had. By what would be considered nightfall on Thebes but was still mid-day on the Icy Planet, the Atlanteans had recovered nine out of the twelve hours they had lost. Enron called for a stop, and created a hot meal for everyone, mindful of starting a fire in the middle of nowhere and attracting the Insects’ attention. Well aware that setting up camp in these conditions was impossible, Enron domed the entire area by binding the atmosphere at an altitude of 500 feet and heated the inner area. Everyone slept on the rocks with their camouflage suits that mimicked boulders strewn with smaller pebbles. From the air, the ground only seemed rougher, not at all like a camp. Everyone was so tired they slept like logs on the ground, ignoring the rough pebbles and pokes from their improvised rock bed. The wake-up call of the bugle was met with a storm of epithets that would have made rocks blush, had they had ears to hear them. Enron quickly created a hefty breakfast, disposed of waste by porting them at the sea bottom.

Another long day of running began, and speed picked up when the Soldiers entered a wide valley leading to the way-point where Enron’s Hordes would spit to tackle their nine targets. The reports from the other Commanders told Enron he had made up for lost time by sext, and he was actually in the lead for the next stage. The King decided to maintain the tempo, and split early so the Hordes would have time to rest before the next assault began.

Alexander had been working his own troops as hard as Enron, but terrain was not on his side as he progressed further. Ice melts underfoot created holes everywhere, and sharp rocks, split by the repeated action of freezing water, made for a considerable number of cuts that threatened infection if not immediately taken care of.

«Have you noticed there is not a stick of wood on this planet so far?» commented Greywolf as his own Hordes made their way closer to their next split-point.

«I noticed nothing but freeze-dried lichen, some algae in shallow pools of melted ice, and what looked like a fern in a sheltered area,» added Lord Agramon. «Not even a Goat would manage to gain sustenance from this.»

Alexander and Enron added their own two crowns of comments, confirming to all that the Icy planet looked more desertic than the Gobi desert.

«Let us not jump to conclusions. I admit trees would not vanish completely, but fern trees would given the orbit of the planet. Paschal will tell us more about the life cycle of this planet once we return to Thebes. I am sure we are in for some surprises," added Enron.

«Is everyone ready to split?»

«Yes, we are, Alexander.»

«Okay. I have transferred command to my second in command so I can hop and monitor the other Hordes’ progress. I suggest you do the same. From now on, I intend to take a back seat and leave the day-to-day moves to each Horde commander and focus on co-ordination and overall aspects of the campaign. Maybe you should too?»

The others approved and quickly implemented Alexander’s idea. They already had enough work keeping an eye on the other Hordes, Corps, and Armies moving around or being left behind to keep them busy.

The next day, the big split occurred, creating 789 independently moving Units combining several Armies. This would be the peak of Atlantean intervention on the Icy Planet, and they were four days off the next assault.

***

In Thebes, the preparations for first contact with the planet-bound Marsupials were in progress. Timor and Iridia volunteered for the delicate task, and Iridia decided to bring along her first-born, Harold Ian. The little, well not so little, Fairy-Troll hybrid was turbulent but both parents believed some space to move would do him a world of good. He had grown in the past two years to an impressive three feet, way over his mother’s head, and had a fur coat that had progressively turned to a deep blue colour, much to the surprise of his Dad Timor, and his Grandfather Bjorn and his wife. Iridia told the three Trolls that blue hair was a very recessive gene found only in the Royal Family of the Fairies and that it was good omen for both courts that the walking ball of fur showed such a trait, as it insured no one would dare contest his ascendants.

Before letting him leave Thebes, Harp and Sitar insisted in training Harold Ian in their respective specialities, as the Boy showed promise on both fronts. A big War Pegasus Stallion also took a shine to the young Hybrid and took him riding, adding his name to the volunteer list from which to select the diplomatic corps to send down. After considerable haggling, the envoys would include, apart from the members of the Troll and Fairy species, the Pegasus stallion, a member of the Unicorn herd, a Dwarf, an Orc, An Elf, an Atlantean, a Wolf and a Goblin. All would need to be highly magical, should the need arise to use the Power. In all, ten would be ported near the biggest concentration of Marsupials, wearing a FSS for their protection as well as the protection of the Marsupials’ ecosystem.

It took Harp and Sitar a week to bring Harold Ian to a level of expertise they could feel comfortable with and let him out of the Atlantean space-ship protective cocoon. The group was ported an hour before planet-side dawn and moved to the edge of the clearing where the Marsupials had congregated the night before. The Atlantean delegation included Timor, Iridia, Harold Ian, Swift Wind Pegasus, Rock Smasher Dwarf, Star Gazer Goblin, Dolman Orc, Spotty Unicorn, Mark Elf and Ovid Atlantean, and a stowaway, Zen Snake, secreted in Ovid’s luggage.

The group made its way to the trail which would be followed by some Marsupials to reach the reconstruction site of a sawmill. The amount of sawdust in the immediate area told of a long occupation by the same industry, and the presence of water wheels informed the Atlanteans the energy source once used to run the rotary saws.

On the other side of the rather wide river was a series of concrete pillars whose use had been explained to the away team from the history recordings done by the data collectors. The images and movies revealed long chains linking the pillars but letting the water flow freely under them. The logs would come floating down the river and get caught by the chains. The Marsupials would then push the logs into a flume that would bring the log to the saw table for cutting. Planks would be collected as they fell on each side after a cut and sent to trimming in another building.

"That method must have been highly dangerous!" exclaimed Mark as he viewed the historical recording during the briefing the away team got from Harp and Paschal.

"Yes, they usually lost a dozen workers a year. Logs spin underfoot, and they are wet and very slippery. If the loggers went under and did not manage to swim past the stopper, they drowned," Paschal had informed them. "They must be either desperate or very brave to do this kind of work."

The planet’s Sun rose over the mountains and brought activity in the reconstruction camp. Groups left the central plaza in orderly fashion. Some headed to repair the road that would eventually be used to deliver the cut planks to the pickup point. Another group were sent to clear a collapsed bridge. Still others began building barges to temporarily replace the destroyed bridge, using recovered planks from burned-out homes. But the majority were sent upriver to cut down trees and ready them for floating once the sawmill and its stoppers were rebuilt. A group of Marsupials were also trying to recover the chains that had fallen to the bottom, out of reach of the Insects. Yet another group seemed to be busy digging in the sawdust, and the Atlanteans had yet to figure out what they were doing.

«Stay quiet!» said Zen. «I can feel the vibrations of people walking on the ground. They must be near!»

«We are quiet, Zen. The FSS are locked and sealed,» replied Timor.

The Atlanteans sat on a fallen log for another five minutes before the Marsupials came around a curve in the trail. It took them another minute to spot the Troll leaning on a tree stump and, just behind him, two huge animals that seemed to be living nightmares. Off on the right side was a smaller version of the big beast, busy using a stick to draw images on the ground, under the guidance of a very small figure. Beside the two playing in the dirt stood two slightly smaller figures that seemed to be in an intense discussion even if nothing could be heard. Invisible to them was a shiny stick, Zen. The Marsupials came to a screeching halt and froze in fear.

«They are afraid,» said Star Gazer.

«I would be at less,» replied Swift Wind.

«We better establish contact before they panic. They do not know it is us that rid the plnet of the Insects.» noted Timor.

Ovid stepped forward slowly and looked at the Marsupials.

"Let the Sun light your Path. We volunteered to establish contact with you. I hope our intervention to dispose of these six-legged monsters we call the Insects has met your approval, as we saw you fight them."

The Marsupials were stunned. There was no visible sign of the Atlanteans’ intervention except the unexplained suicide of the invaders. Could it be the suicides were the result of the actions of these strange life-forms? And how could they know their language and speak it without even an indication they were not of their World? None dared talk, and yet they felt it was their turn to say something. After waiting for some time, and growing more uncomfortable as the silence prolonged itself, Ovid talked again.

"We know you are workers and you are going to the sawmill to repair it. Can we accompany you so we can help?"

It had been decided during the briefing preceding the departure of the away team to offer help first as a sign of good will and to forgo the usual ‘lead us to your leader’ line.

The proposal shocked the Marsupials, who had just been considering dumping the hot vegetable into their leaders’ hands! After exchanging glances, they moved down the trail cautiously, selecting by unspoken consensus to abide by the wishes of such powerful being rather than risk their displeasure.

It took the Marsupials 30 minutes to reach the sawmill and they began working on rebuilding the sawing deck, the water wheel, and recovering another stop chain. The Atlanteans quickly took to rebuilding the flume and were done in record time, much to the surprise of the Marsupials. Timor then remembered the strange behaviour they had observed during their briefing and moved to the area he felt was being dug into. He saw nothing of interest, so he used the FSS’ sensitive detectors to search below the ground. It reported nothing where the digging had been occuring, but, as he walked the giant mountain of sawdust, the sensors beeped, first at irregular intervals, but as he neared the source of the disturbance in the mountain of industrial garbage, with ever more regularity. Walking in a gradually smaller circle, he was able to pinpoint the source when the sensors blared continuously.

«I think I found what they are digging for. According to the sensors, this is a carbon-steel blade measuring several feet in diameter. In fact, from refining the sensor data, there are 12 rotary blades, and 36 straight blades.»

Ovid saw this as an occasion to add to their quota of good will and managed to get the attention of what seemed to be the building site. He led him to where Timor was standing and invited him to ask for a crew to dig at the location.

"Why?" asked the sceptic.

"Our sensors report a high concentration of metals below this point. We noticed there are no blades for the sawmill, and it was proposed that you or your predecessor might have hidden them from the enemy since they were always greedy for metals."

"And you are not?"

"Most of our stuff is made of a type of polymorphic ceramic where metal plays a very little part. So, no, your metals are of little value to us."

After some in-fighting between the Marsupials, the site foreman assigned four Marsupials to the digging. He still did not believe the strangers, but they had been digging for days in that spot he thought matched the description left by the sawmill manager before he got killed by the enemy, so he had nothing to lose.

The crew hit pay dirt less than two hours after starting the dig, and suddenly, half the Marsupials were assigned to extracting the blades from their temporary tomb. Yet the foreman was worried. Realising the issue, Timor built a quick shelter for the blades, using the FSS’ lasers to cut logs and mortise them to build a floor, four walls, and a slanted roof. The other Atlanteans either pulled the logs from the forest, or spent hours packing peat between the logs to make the building water-tight. The use of lasers to cut down trees terrorised the Marsupials, but they quickly saw the benefit of this technique as tree after tree was fell, its branches cut off, and the main trunk trimmed at both ends. The use of the lasers to make rough planks of wood for the flume was also watched with attention. By the end of their shift, the Marsupials were more than impressed by the work done by the Atlanteans, which were a lot less numerous than the crew.

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" asked Ovid as the foreman called his working crew off the site to return home.

"I do not know. We advanced so fast today I have yet to establish what comes next."

"I see. Anyway, we plan to go to the main camp with you and talk to the leaders there. Please have your crew available for that meeting."

"They will be hungry and need food."

"We know. And so do we. I just hope your leaders will abide by the rules of basic hospitality and allow us rest and restoration before calling us to a meeting."

"I do not know of their reactions. We have had some pretty bad experiences with aliens."

"So did we. The Insects are but the last drop in a bucket of rather disturbing races we had to deal with over the years."

"Foreman, hide them amongst our midst. That way the camp Guards will not see them."

"If they do not see that," said the foreman as he pointed to the massive Pegasus, "they are more blind than most low-lifes."

Everyone had to admit that hiding the Pegasus, the Unicorn and the Troll was next to impossible, but they all volunteered to act as body shields, much to the amazement of the Atlanteans.

"Do not concern yourselves with our security. We are more than capable to defend ourselves from any Guards, be it alone or in an important group," stated Ovid.

Having seen the powerful lasers at work, the Marsupial crew readily admitted that their concerns were largely unfounded. However, some asked that the Guards be spared as much as possible.

"Most of them are family. They are the oldest, the survivors of the first battles, and have earned our respect. I, for one, would not like to see Grandfather die sliced like a plank, even if he is more stubborn than a stump."

"We have no intention of killing anybody if we can prevent it. We can stun someone and that person will sleep for several minutes."

After some more exchanges, the group began moving toward the camp, Zen snugly hidden between the wings of the Pegasus. The arrival of the team from the sawmill construction site was met with alarm and shock. The camp’s whistles blew, calling everyone to the defence of the perimeter of the large temporary village.

"That is what I feared. They will fight without even listening to us."

"Then move back and let us stand in the front. They will run out of ammunition before even denting our defences," said Mark, talking for the first time directly to the foreman.

Understanding now was not the time to discuss things, the foreman give the signal and the Marsupials moved back behind the line Atlanteans. A rain of projectiles of all sorts fell from the camp defenders, rebounding on the shields erected by Magic. After half an hour of uninterrupted pelting, the hail stopped. Mark walked in front of the Marsupials and looked at them with a little smile that looked positively terrifying to the Natives of the planet.

"So, are we done? Have you exhausted your playfulness? We would like to meet the Adults in charge of this kindergarten!"

«When I think we declined Harp and Ian’s involvement because of their lack of tact!» said Timor.

«I would say bite my arse, Timor, but knowing you, I fear you would do it, and in public too,» replied Mark.

The line of Marsupial Soldiers parted to let a very old and weak looking Elder make his way toward Mark.

«Let the negotiations begin. Ovid, you have better mastery of their language, so I turn this to you," said Mark. Ovid stepped forward and stood between the Elder and Mark. Ovid felt that dealing with the Marsupial leadership would be difficult at best.