Long-range scans had already confirmed the presence of a CCDF cruiser in orbit of the third planet, an Ansari type if their eyes were any good. The Grand Symphony had sent their harmony here to scout out the system and test the human’s capabilities against Xre’s newest generation of husks, sensors, and their newest warship itself.
It was a bold, unusually aggressive move. The treaty between Xre and the human infesters had been stable for decades. It had kept the peace along their spinward border, allowing the Grand Symphony to continue their expansion hubward and counter-spinward without wasteful expenditure on making war against an enemy that proved itself shockingly resilient and resourceful.
Thuk questioned the Symphony’s wisdom of sticking a claw back in the human’s mound, but only within the confines of his skullplates. It wasn’t a derstu’s or a harmony’s duty to second-guess the Symphony’s pronouncements, only to bring them to life.
The husk they’d launched more than a moon ago had already gone beyond expectations, having detected, stalked, and killed two of the human’s most advanced “recon drones.” But now, looking at the readouts in Kivits’s alcove, Thuk knew their brave little husk had run out of luck.
“When did we lose it?”
“A quarter dayslice ago, while you were in fugue,” Kivits said.
“Why wasn’t I called then?”
“You needed rest, and we always assumed we’d lose the husk eventually. We were fortunate to take down two drones in the first place. It was on loaned time as it was.”
“What changed?”
“The human ship, we’re almost certain it is the Ansari itself. Not just type, but the launch. There’s enough sniffer recordings in the core to be very confident of that.”
“So we’ve named the ship. What else?”
“It’s acting … strangely,” Kivits said.
“Continue.”
Kivits expanded the display to the surrounding walls of the mind cavern until a panoramic surround of the sensor environment filled the space.
“Within an eighth dayslice of their second drone falling, the humans entered a seedpod and jumped in. They quickly launched more husks to search out—”
“More?” Thuk interrupted. “How many more?”
“Twelve.”
“How did they recover husks so quickly?”
Kivits wiggled his midarms. “They didn’t. These were still in their nests onboard.”
Thuk clicked his mandibles once. The Ansari wasn’t exactly a new type. Other harmonies on other ships had managed to get good, reliable scans of them over the years. Its capacities and capabilities were well-established with a high degree of confidence.
“Then it’s carrying too many husks. A new subtype, or a rebuild?”
“Possibly. Or newer, smaller husks doubling up in the nests.”
Thuk thought through the implications. Double the husks meant double the sniffer density, fewer gaps, more overlap, or control of a greater effective volume of dark ocean for each of the human cruisers in service. Sneaking around on the edge of what they’d anticipated was outside the cruiser’s detection threshold as they were, it wasn’t a pleasant thought.
“This merits closer inspection. We’ll want to get confirmation of this new capacity for the Symphony.”
“Yes, Derstu, but that’s not the strange part. After a quarter dayslice, the humans sniffed out our husk as it tried to sulk away silently. They destroyed it with a javelin shortly thereafter, but then…” Kivits focused in on a part of the treaty line closest to the fallen drone. “… they entered a seedpod again and jumped right up to the treaty line at this location. They’ve been there ever since, and have launched even four more drones traveling down the line in either direction along the eclectic.”
“Smart,” Thuk said admiringly.
“But they’re nowhere near our true location?”
“There’s no way for them to know that.” He pointed at the human ship and drew a line back to the dead husk. “This is the shortest distance between where they knew our husk to be and the treaty line. Where is the ideal place to be controlling a husk from? Where you get the least lightlag, right? The humans know this as well as we do, so they jumped to the most likely place we might be hiding, then started their search. Run it backward for a moment.” Kivits obliged. “Stop there. Good, now resume. Take notice of the timeflow when our husk falls. Now, look at the time it takes them to jump. If we really had been there, the Ansari would’ve jumped inside light-spear range before we’d even known our husk had fallen.”
“Ah, yes. I see now.”
Thuk itched at a seam in his uniform. “I’m impressed. These humans are clever, aggressive, and willing to take risks.”
“A gamble that wouldn’t have turned out in their favor even if they had been right,” Kivits said dismissively. “A cruiser is no match for the Chusexx, no matter how many extra drones it carries.”
“Yes, yes, our proud new warship and its clever new weapon has never lost a simulated battle. But they would have had a free hand to open the fight, and we’ve underestimated human ships before to our doom,” Thuk chided. “Besides, we’re not here to fight, just stir their mound a little and see what happens. That’s what the Symphony requested.”
“I have not forgotten, Derstu,” Kivits said. “But I hope you will not forget that our first duty is to protect our harmony.”
Thuk wiggled his primehands. “It won’t come to that, not this time at least. Their drones are shouting out into the dark ocean, their echoes are bouncing off each other. We’ll remain a while longer and learn as much as we can, but as soon as Chusexx is within double the detection range of those drones, we’re seed-podding out of here. There’s no sense risking becoming the hunted. And speaking of hunting, where’s my plate?” As he said it, one of the mind cavern’s doors irised open and disgorged a young runner holding a crescent-shaped tray wriggling with food. “Ah, just as I was about to
