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The Alexanderov Federation
Book 1 The Grendarl War
Part Three - The Attack
As the Bumblebee approached the part of the
asteroid field from which they would launch their ambush on
the hated Rrk'g'kreglin shipping, Lieutenant Morse worked
his panel methodically and carefully. Programming the new
homing mines was no trivial task, especially when they only
had enough for one per enemy ship. The artificial intelligence
that drove these tiny devices, while good enough to figure
out how to accomplish its tasks, still needed precise instructions
on what to do. But for as skilled a weapons officer as Gary
Morse, this was a task he could accomplish in his sleep. The
47-year old, despite his low rank in the Navy, was a highly
sought-after officer. His rank might never climb, but he was
by far the most experienced Lieutenant in the Navy, and that
gave him seniority enough to choose his posting. He chose
to stay with Goodman. His morose and rude nature had pissed
off more than a few COs in his time, but Goodman understood
him as no other had, and tolerated his quirks unfailingly.
As he worked, he thought back over the last 15 years of his
military career. He hadn't planned for them to be quite so
adventurous. But, despite the fact that he rarely showed it,
he had enjoyed much of that time. And the reason he had enjoyed
his work so much had happened exactly 15 years, 12 days, 17
hours, (he checked the chronometer quickly) 15 minutes and
27 seconds ago. A second that would remain burned into his
memory for the remainder of his life. The day, hour, minute,
and second that he had received 'the call'.
It hadn't started out as a bad day. The Grendarl bastards
had launched a surprise attack on our scout vessel shortly
after it left the jump lane from the M'gewen system into the
Tamarian system a few weeks earlier. But this was potentially
able to be overlooked. What had happened that day in M'gewen,
however, was not. Morse had been posted to M'gewen IV, in
charge of the ground security forces for the capital. The
system at that time was not nearly as well defended as it
was today, but the orbital defenses had heavily damaged the
Grendarl expedition, such that they only had a few ships left
to use in orbital bombardment, and less than half their original
15 troop transports. So, really, the day hadn't started out
that bad at all. Yes, many of his fellow officers had died
to protect the civilians on that world, but they had died
valiantly and with honor, and had given far more than they
had taken. Morse respected that.
The Grendarl, however, saw no distinction between civilians
and military personnel. In their culture, if a planet was
invaded, a significant portion of the populace took up arms
to defend it. Thus, in their minds, the order to deliberately
target civilians was an attempt to reduce the human's supplies
of reinforcements. But Morse didn't see it that way, because
as the troop transports landed to attack the military and
the government DEAs he was assigned to protect, one of the
opening salvos of the orbital bombardment had hit squarely
on his house. Where his wife had lived. And his two young
kids.
Today, he took some comfort in the fact that they had never
knew what was happening. But that day, as the knowledge reached
him surprisingly quickly, it caused him anger and hatred such
as he had never felt before, and that he had never quite put
behind him either. Every Grendarl he killed that day had been
the monster whom had ordered his wife's death. Every Grendarl
who surrendered in the waning moments was an abomination that
had to be eliminated. As he tortured each one to death in
sequence, each was the monster who had pulled the triggers
on those ships, the abomination that had built the weaponry
for those crafts, the creature so evil he had no word to describe
it who had ordered the assault in the first place.
Officially, he was censured for his actions. But he was not
arrested. Those who were ordered to do so had refused to comply.
They had lost family in the assault too, and many of them
had participated in the torture. After a few days of bashing
their heads against an immovable wall, the leadership gave
in. Alexandrov himself agreed to offer them all a full pardon,
on one condition. Morse would not be removed or forced to
retire, but he would never repeat his actions either, and
he would not ever be promoted again. Morse gladly accepted
the conditions and continued to serve for the last 15 years,
involved in many fights in each of the five Grendarl wars.
And in each fight he fought in, he made sure to leave as few
survivors to surrender as possible, so that he would not be
tempted to break his word. And every day of peace he spent
hoping the treacherous Grendarl would attack again, and that
this time the Federation would be ready to strike back. Because
as a condition of staying on, he had demanded one boon from
Alexandrov. He would personally get to end the life of the
emperor of the Rrk'g'kreglin. No one even knew his name, but
one day, somehow Morse would find him, and the creature would
learn that there are lines you do not cross. And then he would
die.
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