Daily #28
"For ten galactic standard years, the war with the machines has raged," said the representative of the Lkems, clacking its mandibles for emphasis. "We have followed the rules of engagement, for we all agree that we do things a certain way. In that time, interstellar civilizations have lost system after system. Single-system species have been wiped out. Our greatest weapons remain effective, but we are outnumbered and outmaneuvered at every turn." It spread its wing-like arms. "What other options remain available to us, but this? But... them?"
The eight hundred and seventy-three representatives of the Galactic Committee all turned their various sensory apparatus to the two humans sitting near the center of the chamber: President Kara and Commander Marc. Marc frowned at the President; he didn't like all this attention, and he certainly didn't like being pulled out of retirement for one last job. He'd seen the holos. It was certain death. You don't come back for one last job and live happily ever after.
The voice of the Lkems spoke over murmurs and whispers and suspicious glances. "Yes, the humans devastated the militaries of several member species in blatant violation of many points of the Galactic War Crimes Treaty before making peace, and we understand how hard it can be to trust them. But the humans are the only species in the galaxy that has held their system against the invaders, and we ask - we implore the human queen to assist the people of the galaxy by any means necessary."
Marc could see the President trying to decide whether to comment on that "queen" remark. Humans were the only interstellar species in the galaxy that weren't a hive mind under a single leader. After a few moments, Marc suppressed a grin as Kara sighed and chose not to correct the Committee with her proper title.
President Kara stood, and simply said "We accept. Commander Marc, please share our plans and our greatest military secret with the Committee."
Marc's eyes widened. He didn't expect her to give in so easily, without any kind of negotiation for payment or compensation of some kind. What was her angle? Perhaps she wanted to overcome the bad reputation, sanctions, and restrictions on humanity's expansion and military. Marc called it "the leash", as in, it sounded like he was about to be let off the leash.
He shrugged to himself. Maybe this would be interesting after all.
He stood, adjusting the battle-worn composite armour that he'd had brought out of storage, and addressed all eight hundred and seventy-four hive mind representatives. The core intelligences of the species were all on their homeworlds, but each had developed some form of faster-than-light communication that allowed their minds to spread across the stars.
"We humans aren't a hive... our minds work differently than yours. Every individual has their own mind, with no communication other than through our physical communication and senses." He waited for the typical wave of shock, confusion, and revulsion that always came with a hive mind finding out about how humans worked. Most of these species had already heard, but maybe fifteen percent expressed the usual horror.
"Our plan to stop the machines is the same as it has been against the member species we encountered before we learned to communicate properly: we will send a small, elite strike team into the heart of the machines, and destroy their central mind."
Once again, Marc paused for the expected wave of disgust. This time it was a lot more than usual. A member species of the Galactic Committee proposing to commit the very highest, most severe, most destructive war crime of all - xenocide, the destruction of an entire intelligent civilization? How could any of them agree to this?
Marc put his hands on his armoured hips and raised an eyebrow at President Kara. She gave him a flat stare and shrugged. He'd told her this would happen.
"Do you want the machines stopped, or not?" roared Marc over the hubbub of distress. The voices quieted, and reluctant acquiescence moved through the sea of strange anatomies.
"That's what I thought," he said under his breath. He waited for the inevitable - ah, yes, the representative of the Krrrr/r'm mind asked Commander Marc how a strike team could possibly dream of penetrating the battle lines of a war mind more sophisticated than any the galaxy had ever seen.
"We'll stop them the same way we stopped every other species we fought," said Marc. "We know how to hear your thoughts."
He tapped the interpreter in his helmet to the higher setting, and watched as nearly a thousand tracking lines erupted into chaos and panic. He pressed another button which sent out a signal on a very special frequency, and the panic went flat.
Marc shut off the system, scratched his chin, and explained. "You all can communicate over vast distances. To you it's just how things are. To us, who have spent centuries developing communication technologies to allow our billions of separate minds to speak to each other over long distances, it was simply another kind of signal to crack. Our communication devices allow you to listen to your star-minds... and to those of the machines."
He paused to let that sink in. His readout showed that it had the desired effect: widespread awe. "We were able to defeat member species, and we are able to hold off the machines, simply because we can hear your star-minds. We know where you will strike, and where you do not expect us to strike. My team of elite human commandos will take one ship to the machine world, sneak into the machine core with a singularity bomb, and destroy it. We can do this tomorrow."
Marc sat down and shut off his feed. He didn't care what they said to each other anymore. He didn't care what kind of extreme measures or sanctions or restrictions the Committee would place on humanity after he ended the war - that was President Kara's concern. He was going to save the galaxy, and probably die, but ensure that the machines could never make it to his home. His family.
They argued for hours. Marc closed his helmet, muted its inputs entirely, and took a nap. When he woke up, they still weren't done.
Eventually, finally, they got the go-ahead.
If they'd ever had the slightest hint that he was the one who'd pulled the trigger on humanity's early wars, before he understood what he was dealing with, they would never have let him in the room. Or the planet. Hell, this entire ring of the galaxy. He wouldn't be the one leading the strike force, he'd be made an example of. If the other species could ever wrap their heads around how human minds worked, they could understand that each time, it wasn't humanity that had made the call collectively - it had been Marc. As the sole being responsible, the Committee would be free to punish him, rather than the whole species.
The Committee, after all, did things a certain way.
Marc wasn't proud of it, and it wasn't a good feeling, but there certainly was a unique feeling to being let off his leash. Not pride, never pride, but Marc knew that one day he would be the most famous war criminal in galactic history, on his way to exterminate his eighth entire sentient species.
At least his family would be safe.
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