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Departing Centauri, 2461: We touched here in the guise of a Bulrathi trader only long enough to confirm the latest reports from across the galaxy, and they were grim indeed. Unknown agents, whose real identity is only too obvious, took out five missile bases at Fierias two years ago, and I believe a hyperspace beacon was planted on a failed attempt on a Denubius base last year as well. Meanwhile, fleets of single Meklar fighters have been dispatched, and will have scouted every Psilon world by next year, surely a precursor to the inevitable war of assimilation - as is RBO-23's new research project: A bio-toxin antidote for the biological components of its cybernetic drones, as a quicker project than cloning development following a 2459 breakthrough in soil enrichment research. Then, last year, the Meklar conducted a small-scale bombing run at Zhardan to soften the planet up for their ground forces - Strader and the Humans have nothing left to offer them but that final world in their space - an attack which apparently prompted a desperate Carnax to speak highly of RBO-23's "words of peace," none of which the poor Silicoid leader has heard for decades. It also prompted Strader to redeclare war on the Meklar - far too little, far too late - and to receive a four-word reply: "Acceptable. Say good night."
Early this year, Zhardan was assimilated into the Meklar collective. Strader and his Human empire are no more. There is no longer any purpose to warning Yalara; only the Psilons and Bulrathi united, if they act now, while RBO-23 is focused on the Mrrshans and the remnants of the Silicoids, could stand a chance. We must therefore warn the Psilon people of the danger they are in, of how their allies will play them false as the Meklar did to so many of their allies back in the days of the Meklon wars. Current events will support us at least; last year, ruthless Yalara in her folly was glad to call mighty RBO-23 a friend. This year, she was forced to declare war ... since her world of Esper was added to the collective, along with her outdated dotomite fuel technology, not long before Zhardan and Silicoid Lyae suffered similar fates. In utter desperation, Carnax called on RBO-23 again from its new palace-in-exile, still under construction at Antares, moments after the Human empire was totally destroyed. With Sasha the only surviving Human in the galaxy not enslaved by cybernetic collective-link circuitry, with his own once-mighty empire reduced to the radiated husk of Antares and the desert world of Collassa, where Meklar forces had just achieved space superiority, Carnax meekly suggested...
...that with the help of the unstoppable war machine, he would be able to "challenge the threat" of the no-longer-existant Humans. Now that we're back in hyperspace, I can only ... what's that sound? Graur's ceiling smuggling panel is sliding aside! Sasha gathers Miristys and me up protectively, and backs up against the door to the pilot's room as it opens and Graur steps in, his jaw set dangerously as he meets the pair of glowing yellow eyes looking down at us and him. From behind those eyes comes a purring voice, deep and strong, but smooth as silk. "Forgive me for intruding. We are headed for Psilon space, I understand?" He drops to the floor, landing nimbly on all fours, and coming to his feet in one smooth motion. "I am Prrlan. I've lifted secrets from the Meklar data cores that I'd like Dynalon to see. I trust another passenger will not strain your resources?" Clad in a skin-tight, jet-black bodysuit over short-cropped fur of a deep, dark grey, he is the first male Mrrshan I have ever seen.
Graur maneuvers his vast bulk past us with natural ease. He's still glaring at Prrlan. "Why Dynalon? Why not Yalara?"
The tall cat brushes himself off neatly. "For just the reasons you were discussing yourselves. And because I've tried the like before, and I know my fellow Mrrshans wouldn't listen to me." He flips a nimble paw. "I am not a she-Mrrshan, as you can see."
Our captain takes another step toward him, growling, "You may say..." but stops as Sasha reaches out to touch his arm.
She urges, "Graur, please..." and he hesitates, looking from Sasha and Prrlan. He doesn't trust our stowaway, but I can already see him melting under Sasha's gentle touch. She whispers, "I know what he means - all too well." She seems on the point of tears, but I don't fully understand why. Shaking her head, and drawing a breath to recover, she says, "It's your ship he stowed away on, but how else could he have gotten off Centauri alive and unassimilated after Yalara declared war?"
Slowly, Graur covers her hand with one of his gigantic paws. He sends another mistrustful look Prrlan's way, but then his eyes return to Sasha's, and everything melts away but a soft acceptance and deep concern for her. "For your sake then, Sasha, he is welcome." He starts to say more, but her thanks silences him, leaving only that deep concern in his warm, caring eyes, lost in hers.
Celtsi Communications Center, 2464: According to the local archives, GNN reported last year that assimilating Collassa carried the Meklar across the threshold of galactic domination. Worse yet, RBO-23 has cleared out the orbital defenses of four different Mrrshan worlds, with countless transports already in space. If the other races delay much longer, the Meklar forces will no longer be committed to attacks on the Mrrshan fronts, and there will be no remaining hope. Already, the old triad of Arc Lamp cruisers is being scrapped to make room for a more up-to-date design. All we can do is try to warn Dynalon.
He's completely unwilling to break his alliance, but wriggling around on technicalities is apparently right up his alley. He already has star fleets in orbit over at least two Meklar worlds, ready to go on attack runs if - and as soon as - the alliance does end, and is willing to look for more opportunities. That's where Prrlan's secrets come in. "I have dispatch plans for several Meklar assault transport fleets that will be launched almost immediately. My people are doomed; there will be no way to stop the flood of Meklar troops at Fierias next year, and they will surely capture our last technologies - outdated industrial tech won't help them much, but I fear my people's ... technological distinctiveness ... also includes plans for both a fusion rifle and a fusion beam, and of course those will be taken. Fortunately, something can be done at our colony of Morrig. The Meklar, as you know, have long had space superiority there, but by next year, they will also have more than 75 transports on the way. It will be possible to kill millions of their people, and to delay or prevent their development of that star, if you simply honor your alliance by attacking my people at Morrig - Mrrshans who are doomed regardless - and bomb the colony into the arid soil. You would save more than thirty million of my fellow Mrrshans from assimilation into the Meklar collective - a fate far worse than death. Their souls would honor you for all time."
Sasha looked on and listened with trembling emotion - and Dynalon agreed. It shall be done.
Iranha Stardock, 2470: We all knew it was coming, but it still happened too quickly. Fierias fell just as Prrlan predicted, and then with three different models of destroyer-class anti-matter bombers, each carrying battle scanners to make up for swift feline reaction time, the Meklar lost no starships in overcoming the last Mrrshan planetary defenses in 2468, assimilating Jinga and Denubius the same year. Then, last year, Dynalon raged at Durpp of the Bulrathi for stealing his hard-won technological secrets, and nothing we could say could calm him enough to realize it was a trick by RBO-23 to cover and further benefit from its own theft. With factory waste reduced by that very technology to 40% of its 2300 levels, the Meklar will quickly become even more formidable than they are already. But this year ... this year, Romulas fell, and Proxima was overrun. The Mrrshans are now represented only by visual cortexes, retractable claws, and reflex neurology adopted by various combat drones in the Meklar imperium, robotic members of the collective ... and Prrlan, here, alone. When he brought the news, he tried to bring it off with a jaunty mien and a smirk, but the mask fell away before it could form, he trembled all over, and as Sasha approached him, he fell weeping into her arms.
They held each other for a long time, and whispered of what might have been, and what went wrong - the horrible luck of the Mrrshans, yes, with the mineral poverty of their corner of space, but painful social issues that touched on my friends themselves as well: The female dominance that had so permeated Mrrshan culture that there was no meaningful role for a male unless he was able and willing to sneak access to classroom windows, break into educational computer systems, and train himself - like Prrlan to become a spy and thief and renegade. The de-facto male dominance of 24th century Human culture after generations of expectations of feminine beauty that left little time for a woman who expected any normal place in life to do more than primp and paint and clothe herself to best effect, for hours and hours every day, until the helplessness of women in any fields but the development of their own beauty became almost proverbial, and those who tried to ignore the overwhelming social urges - women like Sasha - had the prejudice of centuries to battle, and the loathing of men who wanted to see them made up to the latest standards of beauty. No wonder every important representative of Humankind I had seen was always male. Each race had sacrificed half its potential - half its could-be scientists, pilots, leaders, and strategists - to arbitrary cultural mores, and each has paid the ultimate price: Its culture has adapted to service the Meklar. Its people are its people no longer, but Meklar drones. And soon, I fear...
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Next: Under Siege!
