Federation Interlude #1

Take a small, yapping dog and crossbreed it to a gnawing, vicious rat. Twist it into the shape of a deformed human, little under half-sized, and give it a healthy coating of mange, fleas, and enough hard stimulants to kill a bull. Put a knife in its fidgeting hands and you have a Vrak. Cram hundreds of them into a corrugated pile of scrap spot-welded around a stolen, rusted turret and stuttering turbojet engine, and you have Vrakaks. Get fifty-thousand more just like it, set them en-route to the Federation stars, and you have the Conclave of Vrakaks Clans.

We fought them for twelve damned years. Two years into the conflict I was appointed Admiral by an act of parliament. My predecessor’s flagship had been boarded and its contents eaten. I served on the ‘Tattered Banner’ in half a dozen major battles and more skirmishes than all the fingers on the bridge could count. Every one, we were outnumbered. Every one, we pushed them back. I was angry, then. Angry at the Peace Party for letting them build their numbers up again, angry at the Market Party for twiddling their thumbs, angry at the Ecologist Party for trying to talk them down. Most of all, I was angry at the Federalist Party for not ignoring their blasted consensus and doing what was best for democracy.

Now, I see it was all meaningless. The Tyrants to our south took advantage of our weakness. Our common humanity meant nothing to them because they had none. Their massed fleets were invading our frontier, led by a woman, of all things. They had fresher troops, intact fleets, more of both and no convention of wartime decency holding them back. I knew this war was lost, in the long run. I just didn’t realize how lost it was.

We’d chased the bastards’ scouts for months. They were stealthy but with the Vrakaks, we’d gotten used to sniffing out stealthy ships. We finally cornered them in the Sangomia system and burned thrusters to try and open this second war with a win. We got close, damn close, before our radars lit up with a thousand little pinpricks of light at our rear and we realized we’d been had.

“Fuck.”

All of the discipline won over a decade on war-footing evaporated. I panicked and called for a retreat. My own life didn’t matter to me, but the fleet? That was the center of the Federal Navy. If it was lost here, it was all lost. Our reaction wasn’t fast enough. Lasers ground us to dust. Captains I’d fought beside for years were gone in seconds. The remains were in disarray but the enemy left us an opening.

In a desperate gambit we swept for their side, only for it to whip back and leave us exposed to their center. A feint. The bridge around me shook. Alarms started blaring but it was no good to us, now. I gripped my dog-tags and started to pray. It wouldn’t be long befo-