One half of Dijjak’s face was, as per usual, aghast at the human’s seemingly nonsensical responses, but the other half was grudgingly accepting that, thus far, everything this human had said, no matter how outlandish, had proven true.

  It looked wonderfully painful.

  “You see, we first officially met the venrali and the cuyusho about seventy of our years ago, and then the auresten about … twenty? … years later when they realized that we could be trusted. Not gonna lie, routinely stomping on all your toes MAY have had something to do with that.

  Oh, and by the way, we couldn’t station ships in anyone else’s systems, so to make sure we would get in your way, we’ve had to use vessels with more zoom and less boom. So,” he scoffed, “good job getting your ears burned off by our scout ships.

  Anyway, we realized that we were the best chance of REALLY stopping you, not because we’re tough, smart, or rich, but because we were getting along with everyone else. No one species could take you out, but all of us together? Ah yes, we liked those odds.

  So, we started chatting with the auresten to see how to make this work, and let me tell you, you pissed off the wrong species! They know more about you than you do, and they happily shared that with us. It took a while, but we made a plan to draw most of your clans’ forces into a trap.

  Getting the venrali and the tishari to join in on the fun was … tricky, but … well, let’s just say you may be able to sell someone on a dicey deal here and there, but we have used-car salesmen, so it was only a matter of time before they figured out the right deal.

  The cuyusho, on the other hand, pretty much joined on the spot. I mean, we knew that they REALLY appreciated all our help with the raids, but it turns out that a small group of them had been wanting for a while to take the fight to you … just, not by themselves.

  So, we worked with them to make their ship-linking tech flexible enough to include everyone else; no small feat, I’m told. Two years ago, though, we finally got it working, and six months later, the cuyusho started building the reactor ships you see before you and the linkages for our fleets.

  The auresten helped us develop stealth weapons platforms, and the cuyusho built those.

  We then designed the Hades and the Nightshade, and, in their spare time, the cuyusho went ahead and built them too.

  Seriously, if they weren’t such a naturally timid race, they would have steamrolled the lot o’ ya long ago!

  While all this was going on, though, the auresten did what they do best; they figured out where, when, and how to mess with your plans to best build up a nice, simmering hatred of us but without provoking an organized attack. I gotta say, you katneral are so predictably self-centered that you’re not hard to manipulate, but their psych profiles of you make it stupidly easy!

  So we got your collars hot and kept them that way until everything else was ready, and then we made it all boil over. Remember those stations in the Henneb and Ushu Loccain systems that suddenly underwent “emergency ventilation” about four months ago, and you were shocked to see human vessels actually accomplish something? Yeah, those were our REAL warships, the kind you’re facing now! And then when Tribbits and his entire strike fleet went for a long walk off a short dock about two weeks after that? The auresten made sure they never saw us coming; truth be told, we didn’t expect to have to leave a thank you note, but Tribbits’ arrogance meant that the operation went a LOT smoother than we thought it would! And finally, when Warlord Likos and the next four in his chain of command all got extra eye holes, and you all thought it was a squad of human commandos? Well, our squad did help insert one of the top auresten agents, but then they backed off and he took it from there, and boy, did you fall for it!

  The only thing left was for the auresten to make sure that you would attack Earth specifically, we got everyone ready to go, and here we are.”

  Highly prized optional checkmark.

  “And now … yeah, Bek’So is STILL going … now I guess I’ll explain what happens next, ‘cause this is my favourite part.”

  As he was about to start, McAllister caught himself and decided to exercise that most noble part of valour; discretion, “… actually, I’m not going to explain it; I feel that privilege belongs to Khalendros.”

  After an appreciative nod to the admiral, Khalendros did exactly that in a tone best described as a spiked mace of malice and loathing covered in a thin shell of ice-cold grim satisfaction, “I’ll state this plainly so at least some of you will understand:

  ALL attempts to negotiate with you have failed; you have broken every agreement and violated every treaty.

  You have made it abundantly clear that all diplomacy with you is invariably doomed, so we’re done being diplomatic.

  Instead, we’re going to destroy every one of your ships and kill every one of their crews, save for a single personnel shuttle that will carry a single crew member of our choosing. This sole survivor will then ret-“

  Dijjak fired back, “And you dare accuse US of being the barbaric ones?! We don’t even TRY to kill EVERYONE!!”

  Khalendros had obviously anticipated that exact reaction, and in his answer, he brought to bear the full authority of one who knows EVERYTHING about their detractor, “Spare us the sanctimonious spittle of a bully at his end; there are NO innocents aboard your ships! EVERY member of any katneral raiding crew is chosen for the specific raid, and we know that you were planning to leave the Earth a BURNT, RAVAGED CORPSE and enslave any survivors!! YOU represent everything about your species that must be removed!”

  A moment pause, and he then added, with a calm veneer over the barely-restrained fury of a deep, serious, and very personal threat, “And so you shall be.”

  Khalendros allowed the warlord a moment to let that sink in, and was rewarded with the facial contortions of a number of unsuccessful attempts to make some manner of riposte before the sentencing continued,

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  “While your sole survivor travels to Tokkasha,” the katneral homeworld, “we will annihilate your race’s remaining warships and planetary defences. Said soloist will then inform your remaining leaders of what’s to happen next.

  After one Tokkashan month, 500 people will be taken from each of your 51 worlds to your homeworld aboard our most luxurious transports; the rest will have to make their own way there along strictly enforced routes within one additional month. After that, any katneral not on Tokkasha will be arrested on sight – or executed, as the situation warrants – and all your other worlds will be forfeit.

  Once those two months have elapsed, most of your homeworld will then be … forcibly regressed to roughly the bronze age and will be kept there indefinitely. One Tokkashan city of our choosing will be allowed to remain at its current technological level for an additional six months, but will then also go bronze.

  The katneral will cease to be a space-faring race.”

  Dijjak felt cheated, “So that’s it? You’ll condemn every katneral to never EVER leave their homeworld, no matter what?! You think yourselves the arbiters of dignity and purpo-?”

  Again, Khalendros foresaw that argument, “If your people ever demonstrate that they can be trusted, we ourselves will help uplift them. Until then, consider it mercy that we don’t exterminate you outright.”

  Checkmark with finality.

  With little other option, Dijjak took the small opportunity to be at least snide, “Yes, of course, we’ll sit here contemplating your ‘mercy’ until Bek’So finishes stomping his feet and yelling like an impetuous child. Unless, of course, you invited anyone else? We wouldn’t want to be rude and impatient, now, would we, hmm?”

  The admiral confessed, “Well, I did invite one other party, but … I don’t think they’ll … actually, hang on a sec … Khalendros, please join me on a secure channel.”

  With that, the admiral and Khalendros muted themselves and moved off-screen to discuss something. Something amusing, apparently, because when they returned, they were both chuckling slightly.

  Ever the gracious host, the admiral re-opened the conversation, deliberately using more complex language to make it less likely that a certain party would overhear and understand, “Khalendros and I agree that you made a valid point; expecting you to sit there and ruminate on your impending doom and the technological lobotomization of your people is needlessly antagonistic. As such, we’ve taken … remedial actions to help accelerate these proceedings and relieve our current predicament.”

  Ostensibly not wanting to give his opponent the satisfaction, Dijjak refused to ask McAllister to clarify, instead rejoining his crew’s attempts to break the comms jamming, the FTL damping, or both.

  It wasn’t long, though, before those “actions” made themselves known on everyone’s FTL sensors, though they weren’t like the others, as Habsh was quick to point out, “Sir, incoming FTL signals, but these are … very erratic; their strength and cohesion are all over the place, and some have vanished altogether. I also cannot confirm their speed or distance, so an ETA would be more of a blind guess than anything.”

  Dijjak shot a glance at the admiral, who was evidently excited about this development, “More cloaked ships, human?” And then, half muttering to himself, “That seems wasteful at this point, but then, when has that ever stopped them …”

  McAllister, for his part, was suddenly quite busy preparing for these newcomers, as was his crew in the background, but he still managed to answer happily, almost laughing, “Oh, I HIGHLY doubt that! Don’t worry, you’ll see soon enough.”

  For the next short while, Dijjak continued his efforts alongside his crew to solve their problems, though distractedly so, likely trying to foretell the manner in which he was to be insulted next.

  After a time, McAllister casually asked an otherwise strange question,

  “Warlord Dijjak, I’m curious; um … have any of you ever met … Kokoshera?”

  Instantly, all work – indeed, all movement – on the bridge of the Hooded Claw ceased as though the crew were completely frozen in place. Within seconds, some began to shake, some began showing signs of panic, and one started whimpering. Dijjak, however, displayed no signs of fear; no, that was definitely boiling rage as he thundered at the admiral,

  “YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE COWARD!”

  McAllister half cut him off in an uncharacteristically severe and aggressive tone,

  “You have exhausted my patience, kat! You will return Kokoshera IMMEDIATELY or we will board your ships and exterminate your crew until we find him! This is your LAST CHANCE!!”

  Just as the admiral finished, a great number of grotesquely-disjointed ships dropped out of FTL – along with pieces of many more – and thus the greatest fear of most of the katneral (most of the known galaxy, to be honest) had come to pass; the mikmik had arrived!

  Understandably, order and decorum among the katneral ranks were thus … diminished.

  Visibly.

  From outside their ships.

  Editor’s note:

  Of all the species presented in these chronicles, I had hoped the mikmik would be interesting enough to you that you would read about them yourselves instead of pestering us.

  *exasperated sigh*

  Fine, FINE! I’ll answer your top questions, in the order you typically ask them!

  First off: the mikmik did not achieve space flight on their own; in fact, they were not yet even capable of forming a stable, long-term society when they were uplifted.

  As of the time of this writing, they still can’t, THANK THE MISTS!

  So, no, they don’t really build ships; they casually build parts almost as a strange hobby, and then hastily fasten them together … somehow … when they need ships, which is made exceedingly evident by their appearance. Not surprisingly, then, roughly half of their ships tend to break apart on their first trip.

  Secondly: yes, WE uplifted them! We’re sorry, okay?! We were desperate in our fight against the katneral! Considering that it royally backfired and cost us our HOMEWORLD, I think we’ve been punished enough for THAT mistake!

  Moving on …

  Thirdly: there are three reasons why everyone – and I mean absolutely EVERYONE – fears the mikmik in space: their combat style, their combat ability, and their … racial psychosis that enables and amplifies both.

  When hunting for food, their physiology and psychology drive them to primarily fly at absurd speeds and slam full-body into their prey, which does anything from killing it outright to momentarily stunning it, while they themselves are perfectly fine.

  To everyone’s horror, they’ve carried this tactic into space combat; they fire themselves at enemy ships via boarding missiles or super-powered ejection seats … or, sometimes just by jumping out the airlock, hopefully (though not always) with a space suit and some sort of tool to cut through the enemy ship’s hull. While this may sound preposterously ineffective (and it does admittedly have a high failure rate), the sobering reality is that when it succeeds (and it does, more than you’d expect), the target ship is automatically presumed lost; between their dizzying speed, their frenzied ferocity, and their total disregard for their own personal safety, the mikmik are OUTRIGHT TERRORS in close-quarters combat! Once they’re on the ship, their boarding parties are rarely repelled, and only then at alarming cost; usually, you’re choosing between either leaving the ship or dying a gruesome, bloody death, and you need to choose REAL QUICK!

  And fourthly: yes, “a five-foot-tall fruit bat mixed with a fuzzy alligator” is a sufficiently accurate description.