The Fate of Terra Ch. 13

On their screens, they could see the fleeing B'Amuf fleet that was still being pursued by the Phoenix just about to cross Jupiter. They had actually altered their course slightly to reach it, desperate to put something in between them and the frightening flaming ships. The Council let out a gasp as ships exploded out from within the gas giant's atmosphere. Mara's mercenaries, backed by hundreds of AI-controlled vessels, had been reinforced to withstand the pressure required to lie in wait twenty miles into the planet --enough so that they wouldn't show up on sensors, but not so far as to be assaulted by the incredible storms that wracked the planet.

Michael was impressed with her decision to wait to attack, originally thinking they'd try and engage the rear of the B'Amuf formation when they had been occupied. "Playing anvil to our hammer," the Council heard him muse aloud. The timing was incredible considering they were essentially blind in there, requiring them to rely on a string of sensor buoys to know when to strike.

They watched the events that had already happened, amazed to see the smaller force charge directly at the far larger --albeit piecemeal- force. Capping their spear with heavily armored AI-controlled ships, they broke through the line and spread, causing the already terrified B'Amuf to flee in all directions and tearing through any pockets of ships that had remained together which might have construed a coherent fighting force.

Michael's forces in the Kuiper Belt that had been hidden when he pulled back his factories began flooding out of the mass of asteroids to herd the defeated ships. He was glad, but interested, to note that none of the B'Amuf tried to surrender. Glad, because he didn't really know what he'd do if they had. All of their intelligence reports had said they'd never suffered such an overwhelming defeat and they were probably too shell shocked to react properly. He sighed. Or perhaps surrender simply wasn't done in their culture. Whatever the case was, this chapter of the war was over.

"When do you leave?" Councilman Whitmore asked?

Michael's eyes unfocused as he had a conversation with Pandora. 'Are you sure about the numbers?' he asked her.

'Of course, master,' came the reply.

He turned to the Council and shrugged. "Change of plans," he said. "Pan has gotten a better idea of what the situation is at their home worlds from hacking these ships and has created a model that my experts are looking at." The Council appeared interested at this development. Raising a hand, Michael explained, "Basically, the main power base of the B'Amuf is no longer on their governing world. It is now held among the various vassals. If we go and overthrow the primary ruling bodies and their military forces on those few planets, we'll knock out at most two factions leaving dozens left in other systems the B'Amuf control."

"Additionally," he went on, ignoring the Council's surprised looks. "There are approximately seventy billion citizens on their largest world. We simply wouldn't be able to hold what we take." His listeners looked shocked at the number. Michael sighed. "Looking back on our history --and American history in particular, you might recognize the situation we find ourselves in as we've been here --standing on a precipice- many times before."

"When our forces get mobilized and mechanized we are unstoppable." He paused. "But our endgame absolutely sucks. There are those on Earth right now who think we've won and this is all over. They want nothing more than to go back to their normal lives and lick their wounds and forget the invasion ever happened. They don't care about the reconstruction, what the future holds, or what it might take to pacify a hostile race that --given enough time- will attack again. The simple truth of the matter is that if we go in guns blazing and try and force ourselves on a civilization that numbers a quarter trillion, we 'will' fail."

The Council looked at each other and finally the Councilwoman from India asked, "So what do we do?"

Michael leaned back in his char and pulled up the populations of the subjugated worlds on their screen. "We have an untapped resource to exploit. The 23 worlds have five times the population of the B'Amuf and they're likely to side with us. If you look at Vietnam, Iraq, just about every foreign war the US has ever fought... if we had gotten the full support of the locals, we'd have been in and out inside of a week."

"However," he continued, "because we allowed the enemy to entrench themselves on their home terrain, with each one we killed creating a martyr, and every instance of collateral damage inciting the natives, they became drawn-out, costly affairs and by the end of them, no one even remembers what we were fighting for."

"The plan," he told them, folding his hands, "while still being modified, is to conquer a B'Amuf vassal state and liberate the enslaved populations under them, letting them take care of the administrative details of keeping the B'Amuf pacified. We give the defeated races the ability to enforce their policy on the B'Amuf --though not so much that they can be a threat to us, of course."

The Chinese councilman nodded. "Yes, I understand. We let the natives do the work. It is like when my country would go out to poor nations and offer to build them a thousand schools and say all we want in return is drilling and mining rights, and everything we find they get to keep half of. Everyone is happy and we don't waste money or manpower fighting them for resources. We offer to liberate the people on the enslaved planets --which we were going to do anyway- and they fight our war for us."

The British councilmember began to nod. "Hell, it's almost like the privateers my country used back in the day... We give them the ability to fight and they'll take the cost unto themselves. We'll essentially be creating free militias wherever we go."

"Colonialism is dead," the French councilman agreed. "I think all of us have learned that free trade will benefit us much better in the long run."

The Council began nodding their heads, seeing the possibilities for not only maintaining the territory they captured, but the trade and foreign relations benefits that would no doubt emerge as a result. Michael highlighted eight distinct regions of B'Amuf controlled space. "These three," he said, indicating those he meant, "are home to the most powerful vassals and will likely be the first ones we hit. The others are much less of a threat or their areas contain multiple warlords vying for control."

He blew out his breath and said, "We'll hit 'em hard; destroying the chains of bondage and arming the locals, then moving on to the next area... again and again... until we reach the home worlds that will, by that time, be unsupported. I'll let you know when we have a concrete plan. As for when we leave, we've been meaning to do some modifications to the Intrepid anyway."

He explained, "Rin believes we can add another hangar that would be able to hold four human-operated destroyers without sacrificing structural integrity. These would be invaluable in deploying in a system to control multiple points." Takeshi beamed in pride to know his daughter was doing well on the Intrepid and had finally found a place where her intelligence was being utilized and appreciated. "Call it just after Christmas as a tentative leave date."

The Council nodded, glad to have this issue resolved and at the likelihood of gaining a host of loyal allies to help them navigate this dangerous new environment they found themselves thrust in. Councilman Whitmore concluded, "We'll let Admiral Johnson know. He'll have to decide which ships are best suited to go with y-"

"I want Johnson gone," Michael interrupted.

The Russian councilmember turned to Councilman Whitmore and smiled triumphantly, "Heh. I tell you this, no?"

A pained expression crossed Councilman Whitmore's face. "It's not that easy, Michael. He-"

"I put you into power so you could get stuff done," Michael intoned, emotionless, matter-of-fact; reminding them that in the grand scheme of things, they were no more than chess pieces. "There is no senate to veto your decisions. There is no reelection to put pressure on you one way or another. It's your job to make the hard decisions now."

"He has considerable support with-" Councilman Whitmore tried to explain.

Michael's gaze turned hard as he declared, "If you don't get rid of him, I will."

"Now le- let's just slow down and talk this out," Councilman Whitmore advised, a panicked note creeping into his voice.

"Enough," Michael declared. "I will not leave Earth's defense in the hands of an incompetent commander." Cocking his head to the side, Michael spoke in a quiet but firm voice, "Maybe I should clarify what my role is in this little relationship of ours. I exist outside the government so that I can intervene when you fail to make the right decision due to public pressure, greed, or whatever the case may be. People will blame me and not you."

He leaned towards the screen and went on, "If you're replacements end up driving the world into the ground, I'll be there to fix it. If you screw up the trade agreements and end up placing Earth in insurmountable debt, I will be there to remove whoever is responsible and then fight off whatever aliens come to try and make Terrans indentured servants. I will be the one who safeguards the planet and its inhabitants, even from themselves -even, when they don't want my protection anymore and curse my name into oblivion."

The tension in the air rose to an almost unbearable degree as the Council took in his words. In the ensuing silence, Michael left them with, "This won't be the last time we disagree on something. For now, all you have to decide is if you're better off removing the admiral publicly, or if you'd rather wake up one morning to find that he's suddenly disappeared."

The Council cast each other nervous glances and signed off. Vice Admiral Song remained, watching Michael carefully. "I know you have my daughter," the man finally told him quietly. "I could say that she served in the only capacity they would allow, but that's not the point. Is she alright?" At Michael's silence, he exploded. "Is she alive?" he demanded in a hoarse voice. Michael finally looked directly at him and nodded, cutting the transmission.

He leaned back and sighed. Kat threaded her hand back and gripped his, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

* * * * *

Lt Song sat in a metal cell, bare except for the bench on which she rested, contemplating her fate. She still didn't know how she'd been caught, but one minute she'd been in contact with her handler on a remote terminal and the next troopers were rushing the room and she'd been shocked into unconsciousness. She sighed, knowing what the Council would do if they caught one of theirs giving away information. They had actually reinstated the death penalty for treason.

She could only imagine what an entity like the one that'd captured her would do with no checks and balances and a reputation for zero tolerance. The cell door opened abruptly and she was startled when a young Asian girl skipped --actually skipped- into the cell. She sat down next to her and rested her head on her shoulder without a care in the world.

Lt Song glanced around with wide eyes as the door shut again. 'Where were the armored troopers? Where were the guard bots? Who was going to ensure the dangerous infiltrator didn't hurt the precious, innocent-looking flower that had suddenly joined her company. The girl sighed and asked without preamble, "Are you a virgin?"

She sputtered in surprise, "N-No." 'What kind of absurd question was that?' she thought to herself.

The girl looked disappointed at this answer and she wondered what the hell was going on. "That's okay, I suppose..." the girl admitted. "Aurora wasn't a virgin when she became a sister." The way she said 'sister' made it sound like some sort of title she should be blessed to obtain.

Lt Song's eyes boggled. 'What is she talking about? Cap- Admiral Lindström?' She tried to remember all the rumors she'd heard on the ship. She'd instantly dismissed them as nonsense. She faintly heard a clanging sound in the distance and her head shot up curiously. The cells in the brig were completely sealed; to the point that they could easily be used as sense deprivation chambers. The hatch in her cell hadn't been locked and sealed when the girl had come through, she realized.

Deciding to risk it, she shifted her weight and then snaked her arm around the young girl's head in a strong hold, pulling them to their feet. "Don't do anything stupid and you might live through this," she said, trying to sound threatening. The smaller girl simply laughed and faster than she could see, slammed an elbow into her midsection at the same time she locked her hand onto her wrist and dug into a pressure point. The young girl twisted around abruptly, still holding onto her wrist, and suddenly the lieutenant was pressed against the wall, her arm pinned behind her back.

The girl, who was certainly 'not' the delicate flower she'd thought, leaned in and giggled into her ear. Then she spanked her... hard. Backing away from her, the girl said in an amused voice, "Just where did you think you were going to go? Even if you had managed to make it to a shuttle or escape pod, do you really think you could have made the TDF line? Do you actually believe it would have mattered? Michael can reach anywhere..."

The bruised and winded Lieutenant slowly collapsed to the bench, wincing as her sore tush came into contact with the metal. As she registered the words, she realized she hadn't been thinking. All she knew was that she was probably going to die and she'd rather fight than give in. She was astonished when the young girl suddenly sat next to her again and threw her arms around her in a hug as if nothing had happened. "It's good that you're feisty, though," she heard. "Dejah loves to wrestle."

Resting her head on the captured girl's shoulder, she sighed. "My twin took a look at your work and was very impressed with what you managed to accomplish. She said if you had waited until we were back on Earth to send the data, you might have gotten away with it. As it was, nothing gets sent or received by signal that isn't taken apart and analyzed. Of course... since Pan is monitoring the Council's intelligence traffic, we would have found out anyway.

The Lieutenant looked alarmed at this. 'They already managed to hack into my files?' she wondered. Guessing that it really didn't matter at this point she admitted, "We're leaving for the home worlds as soon as the cleanup is done. There wouldn't have been an opportunity for me to send a secure transfer."

"Nu- -uh," the girl told her cheekily. "Plans have changed. Michael told the Council we're not leaving for another two weeks..." Lieutenant Song's eyes widened in surprise at that. And what did she mean that Michael had 'told' the Council? Just how much pull did he have...

The hatch opened revealing Michael and Kat. The girl bounced to her feet and snuggled into his arms. He accepted her embrace and a hand slid down to cup her tight buns. "How's our guest doing, Aki?"

Aki beamed and wiggled her ass into his palm. "She's a fighter. Can we keep her?" she begged, pouting, as if she was asking to take in a stray kitten.

'No way...' Lt Song thought. 'The rumors are all true.' Her mind struggled to grasp how he could have so many different women. If what she'd heard was correct, he was involved with two trillionaire heiresses, the daughter of a councilman, a strong-willed American who most people were afraid of, a respected and distinguished captain of proud Nordic descent, and to top it all off, an alien who just so happened to be the daughter of the leader of the refugee delegation.

She had scoffed when she'd first heard this. They weren't Mormons or Muslims. They didn't grow up in a society where that kind of thing was accepted. There was no way in hell those women should have all agreed to share their lover. Unwittingly, she actually felt a spark of sexual curiosity as she wondered what he must be like to keep so many women satisfied.

Michael chuckled and replied, "I suppose that would depend on her." Turning his attention to their captive he said, "So... Song Sun Mi --originally a captain in the People's Republic. How is it that our records show you as Korean-American Nara Vong, an IT systems specialist? We already know how you fudged the facial records, but I'm certain we required a blood test when you joined."

Sun Mi felt full-blown panic as she realized they knew who she was. 'No, no, no,' she thought in horror. 'If he has as much power as everyone says, my father...' When Michael raised an eyebrow and waited, she pulled out the tiny skin-colored patch from underneath her blouse as if in a daze and tossed it to him.

Michael felt the squishy fingernail-sized attachment and remarked, "Now 'this' is clever." He squeezed it lightly. "Not much blood in it, but then you really only need a drop to fool a test." He turned to Kat to show it to her.

Sun Mi whispered hoarsely, "What's going to happen to my father?"

Turning back, Michael frowned. "Now that's not very good anti-interrogation techniques to just blurt out your weakness to your captors. I expected better from a spook." He sighed. "As for your father... I'm going to push for him to replace Admiral Johnson as head of the TDF, though it looks like legislation is being passed to turn the TDF into something similar to the National Guard, so he'll actually be in charge of whatever the Council decides to call their overall military branch.

Sun Mi's eyes went wide at this. "What I think you should be more concerned about," he went on, "is what's going to happen to 'you.'" Kat stepped forward and gave her a predatory look. Michael said, "A sane person would keep you alive so as not to make a very powerful enemy. An even saner person would hold you hostage so said powerful person does whatever they want."

He looked down at her and cocked his head, speaking softly, "Don't ever make the mistake of thinking I'm a sane person, Miss Song... There is only one reason I haven't vented you out the airlock yet and that's because my girls think you might prove to be entertaining. " With that, he turned and walked out of the cell, his girls trailing behind him, Aki throwing her a wink and a lusty smile before she left. The hatch whooshed closed and she heard the distinct sound of the lock cycling. Sun Mi let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She shivered, still able to see the look in his eyes, knowing he meant every word.

Aki pouted on the way to their suite. "Did you have to scare her so much?" she complained. "I want another sister."

Michael chuckled and wrapped an arm around her. "It's important for her to learn that we aren't the good guys before she gets too invested. Besides, when Kat is pulling orgasm after orgasm out of her and she begs her to stop, do you actually think there's a chance Kat will listen?" Aki didn't need to think about it, she simply shook her head. "Well, this way she won't feel betrayed," he concluded. "We gave it to her straight. She knows that whatever we do to her, we could always have just killed her and been done with it..."

Aki nodded slowly. "I trust you, Michael." Then she grinned. "At the very least we get a new pussy slave. I can't wait to wrap my legs around her," she giggled.

"Oh, really?" he asked in mock indignation. He reached down and threw the girl over his shoulder as they entered the lift. She squealed in protest, laughing at his antics. She struggled and kicked her legs as Kat began spanking her exposed bottom. "And just what about me?" he went on.