The holographic image of this puny woman opened its mouth. It began to speak. “I welcome you to our system, Commander. It is unfortunate that we have this communication under such dire stress. The cyborgs have arrived at Jupiter just as they arrived in the Mars System a year ago. We know they fought together at Mars with the fanatics of Social Unity. Together with the usurping Social Unitarians, the cyborgs inflicted unheard of damage against your Grand Admiral. Yes, they destroyed a Doom Star and nearly annihilated a second. Therefore, I do not need to underscore the deadliness of these mechanically-created aliens.”
She paused then, no doubt deciding to let him utter a greeting. The seven-second delay made a conversation odd—for those who weren’t used to long-distance talk. As a ship commander, he was more than used to it.
The Praetor clamped down on his irritation. To liken the Highborn Fleet with Jovian foolishness, surprised by the cyborgs and losing ships to stealth attacks—He breathed deeply. What he needed now was information.
The Praetor inclined his head. “The days are dark as the cyborgs advance with their customary ruthlessness. Highborn High Command has pledged itself to their destruction. Even though these are evil times, I am pleased to have arrived at this critical juncture. I am formally placing my ship at the disposal of the Jovian Confederation. The implication of your greeting leads me to believe that we can work in tandem.”
The words came hard, but the Praetor maintained his pose. It was ludicrous to think that Highborn could harness themselves with subhumans. Could even a philosopher believe such an absurdity? Well, she was a preman. Therefore, he could easily lead the conversation. He needed her to request his ship to travel deeper into the gravity-well to join the Jovian forces. Then he could maneuver onto a Galilean moon. Once his Highborn reached a planetary body—then he could implement his Pizarro strategy to its fullest scope.
After a short delay, she began to speak again. “Your words give me hope, Commander. We are in dire need of alliance. That you’ve reached Demeter at this time—could it be Dictate-derived intervention?”
Did she believe in divine beings? Ha! That made her even simpler, practically a stooge in intelligence. Conquering the Jovian System might actually prove easier than he’d expected. The cyborgs would prove the challenge. He would have to gain leadership of these Jovians fast. Could this preman understand the hope he brought with his vessel? Sometimes, these subhumans were inordinately proud. If she desired victory, logically, she should immediately offer him supreme command. Should he hint to that effect? It was probably too soon. No. He would mask himself for a little while longer. He needed to gain the Jovian levers of power before he revealed his true nature.
“Let me repeat my offer, Chief Strategist. The Thutmosis III has been restocked with armaments. Likely, it is the most powerful warship in the system. By its addition, the Confederation will gain immensely. We are soon ready to depart and could reach Ganymede in one hundred hours.”
Time passed. Then she said, “Your offer is generous, Commander. I accept. I wonder… could you place me in communication with the base personnel of Demeter. There seems to have been a com failure, as we haven’t been able to speak with guardian personnel there for some time.”
According to the former Force-Leader, the Jovians had fled Demeter in secret. The Praetor pondered that. He smiled inwardly. Then he began to speak.
“Our nearness activated a secret stealth attack. We landed as cyborg-converted Jovians finished the butchery of their former comrades. The bloodshed was hideous. We avenged your follow soldiers and obliterated the cyborgs, never fear on that score. Unfortunately, we must have inadvertently activated secret destruct codes. Perhaps you could send us the deactivation sequences so we could keep the base from further damage.”
The transmission took seven seconds one way, seven seconds the other, in addition to the time needed for the Chief Strategist to digest the words and form her reply. The Praetor almost frowned. What was taking her so long? Could she suspect duplicity on his part? That seemed inconceivable. He had woven the perfect cover story, and he understood how those under siege grasped at straws. Her need should smooth over any suspicions she might have. Perhaps he’d stumbled onto one of those paranoid preman. The best way to deal with those was with a bullet through the brain.
“Another tragedy has occurred,” Tan finally said. “Since you have uncovered another of their stealth attacks, you can more readily understand how deadly their secrecy is.”
No, the Praetor wished to tell her. I now understood how gullible you are. Instead, he replied, “The cyborgs are a virus, one we must ruthlessly purge. Having witnessed their savagery, I now pledge myself to their eradication from the Jovian System.”
“Your words give me relief,” said Tan.
The Praetor shifted in his command chair, holding back braying laughter. How pitifully easy it was to lull premen! Only their vast, teeming numbers and large industrial base gave the subhumans a lingering ability to resist the Highborn.
“I suspect that my relief will also be your relief,” Tan said, “for we have uncovered a diabolical plan.” She went on to describe the Carme planet-wrecker, the desperate Jovian taskforce heading toward it and the likely cyborg targets of Mars, Earth or Venus.
A cold feeling entered the Praetor’s stomach. His baleful features stiffened and his weird eyes gained a crazed look. As he sat in his command chair, the cyborg strategy seemed to unfold before him. Seemly attempting to conquer the planets of the Jovian System, rather they were here to create planet-wreckers from the many stray asteroids. These errant rocks and moons would orbit around Jupiter, building up velocity. Then they would hurl the planet-wreckers at the Inner Planets. It was brilliant, vast in scope and a scheme of genocidal ruthlessness. It awed him, and despite his growing hatred of the cyborgs, the Praetor found himself admiring them.
“Commander,” Tan said, “fate seems to have given you the prime task of halting the planet-wrecker. Our main fleet must remain among the Galilean moons or we shall face extinction. We have sent a taskforce, but now you have arrived. I ask you, Commander, what could be more important than your ship heading to Carme and obliterating the grave threat?”
The Praetor tapped the arm of his chair. The cyborgs surely would heavily defend this planet-wrecker. The Thutmosis III was a raid ship, best employed with long-range stealth tactics. To race toward the planet-wrecker like a Doom Star was folly. The preman wanted him to do their dirty work. The idea was enraging.
“I will speak to Highborn High Command and relay your critical information,” he said. “We are presently repairing ship damage. Could you transmit to me all pertinent information regarding this planet-wrecker and the strategic situation between the Confederation and the cyborgs?”
“You are wise, Commander,” Tan said. “If you are prepared, I will transmit the information now. I urge you to make a speedy decision, however. Whatever we do, we must do quickly.”
The Praetor seethed. How dare she urge a Highborn to move with speed? None could act more decisively or more boldly than Highborn. Despite his anger, he nodded and ended the conversation with a salutation of seeming equality and a promise to act soon.
Afterward, he realized that he would have to speak with the Grand Admiral and relay the terrible news. The Inner Planets war had just broadened to include Jupiter.