It takes around fifteen Earth months to build your typical frontline Cruiser. This varies greatly, of course. A smaller, cut down model can be built in around half the time. Good for rapid build up. Not so great for long term sustainability. Union ships are often built for longer periods, often just under three years. Their combat performance isn’t that much better. It’s more about future proofing and creature comforts. That’s why most Union vessels can stay in service for well over a century or more. And sometimes, people decide to put all their eggs in one basket. Make a ship with the absolute best of everything; cost and resources be damned. These projects can take ten years or more. They become status symbols. The pride of any fleet, or indeed any race, who was dedicated enough to make such a work of art.

  I just saw one such ship reduced down to its base elements after taking a direct hit from a Bathos Warp Torpedo. That had to hurt in a lot of ways.

  “How many does that make?”

  “Nine now. At least the ones we can detect.”

  Inanna zooms into the miniscule scraps of the decimated vessel.

  “I’m afraid it is safe to say there were no survivors.”

  “And how many have they taken out in return?”

  “One.”

  She clasps her hands, and says a prayer. Most of the crew show their respects in one way or another. I have my own way. Raise a flask, take a nip, and hope they didn't see it coming. Best way to go.

  There's that familiar fluffy tug.

  “Tom. Can I have permission to speak? Unprofessionally, that is.”

  “Go ahead. Not like we have anything better to do.”

  “This is all crap. Why are we here watching this disaster?”

  “Because we are helping.”

  “So then why are we half a million kilometers away from the fighting?”

  “Because the great Superior doesn't want our help. Probably afraid we'd actually do something useful.”

  There's a new star on the horizon.

  “That's ten.”

  Another nip for the lost. Fairy is right, this is some real bull shit. Sure, on one hand I don't have to risk anything. Not one Union life will be in danger. On the other hand, a life is a life. Even if they are Protectorate chumps. Guys on top are all pompous pricks and I won't be losing sleep over a single one. The rest though, they're all just people. Doing their best. They joined the defense fleet for all the same reasons we did. They deserve better.

  That's eleven.

  “Inquiry: The current Protectorate fleet outnumber these Bathos 28.3 to 1. Despite this, their tactics have been excessively defensive. Would it not be more logical to commit to a total assault so their superior firepower can end this threat in the shortest time possible?”

  I'd say Deed isn’t using his head right now. Considering he is just a head that we strapped to his console, the metaphor would be lost.

  “Their losses would increase at least five fold. At least.”

  “Inquiry: Are these Bathos that powerful of a race?”

  “You tell me. If that was a Diegiton fleet instead fighting the Protectorate right now, would that work against you?”

  “Calculating: In an ideal scenario for the Protectorate, their casualty rate would increase 532%.”

  “At least.”

  Bathos. There are some sectors of space you never travel to. The dangers are just too great. Unfortunately, sometimes that danger comes to you. It's been a long time since the Bathos have shown their ugly faces in our slice of the galaxy. Pirates and raiders are all over the place, but these guys, they are something far worse. They don't steal anything; no loot, no slaves, nothing. Just carnage without rhyme or reason. I was hoping I'd never have to face them. From the looks of things, that might still be on the table.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Waz makes Baths so big strong?”

  “Inanna, you're up.”

  “Sure. This is all too depressing anyway. I'll switch it back when the big play starts.”

  Inanna minimizes the space view on the main screen. Reducing it down to a fourth its area. The rest show what little we know of the Bathos. An autopsy showing their gross faces, and worse. They are fish, and ugly ones; like a dragon fish from Earth's deep oceans. They wear big, bulky pressurized suits and exclusively breathe toxic water. Their ships are all Spheres of different sizes.

  “The Bathos are a Tier 1 civilization. For reference, to qualify as a Major Member for the Galactic Union you must be at least a Tier 3. My race, the Phibians, are a Tier 2. As are the Rackter and Enkephalopds. Humanity is Tier 4 and the Vixten, along with the other members of Crossing are Tier 6 and only due to the influx of new technology. The Union rating goes all the way down to 10 which indicates a society that has not yet even discovered fire.”

  “Waz tea are We?”

  “That is still to be determined. Your technology works differently than most. So we need more evaluations. I'd expect an easy Tier 3 at least. While the Diegiton are almost certainly Tier 1.”

  “Inquiry: How many of these Tier 1s exist?”

  “Depeneds who you ask. Though even the most generous estimates are well under a hundred in the whole of the known Galaxy. The Union only has four and they are all Greater Races.”

  “Ha!” Raze scoffs.” We all know it's really three. Those Triterroran can wave their Greater status like its their tri-pointed cocks in our faces all day. Only on their own, they are no more advanced than the rest of us. And I'd put money on us Rackter kicking their asses if it ever came to it. Even you Phibians would probably win out.”

  “I'll pretend that was supposed to be a compliment. Debates aside, there aren't many. And the Bathos, those are one of them. We have very little understanding of exactly how their technology works. The Geod have been working on it for centuries. The issue is the material. All their technology is made of an unknown metallic alloy. It is virtually indestructible under most circumstances making examinations impossible. And if enough damage is done to pass the materials tolerance threshold, it disintegrates regardless of what you were using to break it to that point. Keeping the secret of its composition a mystery.”

  “Contemplation: Fascinating. It appears that even between races of exceptional technological advancement there is possibility for great variety and specialization. Engineer Alcea, do you possess any theories on the mystery metal’s chemical compounds?”

  …. That's a lot of silence. Alcea is refusing to even look at Deed. Trying to pretend they aren't less than two meters apart.

  “Inquiry: Engineer Alcea. Were my vocalizations too quiet for you to hear?”

  Oof, this is really painful to watch. Worst part, Deed genuinely doesn’t understand what he did wrong. I should do something.

  “Hey, Aclea! Any thoughts on Bathos metal?”

  “While we have no complete concept of the materials properties the possibilities could be virtually endless. There is no material in the whole of the Union that can even reach half its durability. I could spend all week listing possible implementations. They are so strong in fact, that the Bathos have entirely neglected Shield technology. What a fascinating technological history they must have.”

  Deed has his internal check phase, trying to see anything wrong with his systems to cause this miscommunication. He doesn’t realize that the problem is emotional, not physical.

  Oh, look at that, it’s time.

  “Vivian, move the vessel to a safe spot, preferably with a good vantage point. We definitely want to see this.”

  The War Door is a truly massive station, one of the largest ever built. The system it exists in is virtually impenetrable thanks to its existence, but space is big. A fleet could very easily pass the War door entirely and launch a full-scale invasion into the Protectorate. So, massive stations like the War Door have to project their power beyond their own system, and being home to an armada is not enough to justify that. Union vessels do this passively, creating massive areas of noise that would prevent an enemy fleet from moving through Hyper Space without issue. Forcibly funneling any invaders into the station itself, where it would be its most powerful, or risk being disintegrated. The Habruam for their part had a very different solution. One I like better.

  It starts small. A single ship is hit by an explosive, going many times the speed of Light. Within a fraction of a second, that small explosion expands, sending shockwaves of concussive energy across millions of kilometers in all directions. Those near the center of the explosion are completely blown away, never even saw it coming. Those a bit farther away, had it been any other race of ships, would have been completely scrapped. Those Bathos spheres, they really are tough. Getting away with some dents or heavy cracks. Still more than enough to give the Protectorate fleet the confidence for a full scale attack. They have weak points to target now, gaps in the armor to exploit. There is nobody in all this galaxy that can stand up on all their feet after a direct hit from a Hyper Space Shockwave Cannon.

  Well, maybe one.

  “Fascination: Despite the many conflicts between the Diegitons, Harvesters, and the Union, we never witnessed any retaliation on this scale.”

  “That’s because you guys never pushed the boundaries to acquire this. You guys were too busy being at each other's throats. Make no mistake, you might have been a great threat to the majority of the Union, but if pushed hard enough, you would have learned what true power looks like. The Bathos once had thousands of fleets, until they pissed off the wrong people. Now, this is the first fleet that we’ve seen in nigh-on three centuries. No matter how superior you think there are, there’s only one Tier 0 race out there, and they’re on our side. Getting a hail; hate to miss the show, but it looks important.”

  “Great old friend, Captain Tom.” Conqtor, great. Exactly the person I didn’t want to talk to. “I imagine that you, like myself, feel rather useless in our current situation. How would you like to help alleviate this conundrum?

  “...I’m listening.”