5 years after the Armistice

"Incapacitation grenade?" Sjulzulp whispered.

Baedarsust shook his ears. "Too loud. Subsonic guns only."

"Understood."

They stacked up past the doorway of Objective Bone. "Three… two… one…"

On his command, they all filed into the lobby that covered most of the building's first floor.

At some point, this was a residential building. Now, it served as a temporary barracks for the Loyalists. And more importantly, it was a five-story building, putting it slightly taller than the target building next door. That was why they were here.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

The enemies inside weren't expecting intruders. It was a massacre. An efficient one.

One of the side doors opened as a female peeked her head into the lobby. "What in the Prophecy is all the noise out—"

Click. Click. Thump.

"Clear," Sjulzulp said, counting the bodies.

"Looks like they don't know we're here yet. Stack up for the second floor," Baedarsust ordered with a whisper.

When they reached the second floor, they discovered rows of bunks. Most of the Loyalists were asleep, but one of the guys was up. For a second, he looked at the squad of heavily armed Marines that had just appeared in front of him, frozen like a primitive prey in headlights. He opened his mouth to scream.

Click. Click. Thump.

They filtered past him into the sleeping area, identifying about two dozen sleeping enemies.

Which made things simple. The Free Znosian Marines took out their combat knives.

Thump. Slash. Thump. Slash. Thump. Slash…

Baedarsust stood by and watched the Free Znosian Marines work. There were some benefits to working with a species of psychopathic Grass Eaters, and not complaining about having to get their paws dirty was one of them. They went bunk to bunk, making sure not to miss any of the Loyalists.

Enthusiastically.

Other than another solo Loyalist Marine wandering on the fourth floor, there were no more targets, and Baedarsust declared Objective Bone clear ten minutes ahead of schedule.

He waited on the roof, observing the surrounding town in every direction. Five minutes later, he received a message from Mnazilsto at Objective Collie, notifying him they'd completed their seizure too as their Marines reached the roof. "Clear here too."

"Excellent. Have the troops downstairs establish containment around the target building. Nothing in or out. Phase Three, go."

Baedarsust gave the surrounding town one final look.

"Spommu, stay up here as overwatch. The rest of you," he pointed at Sjulzulp and the remainder of the Marines milling about on the roof. "With me, we're going in."

"Cut the lights," Baedarsust ordered. A small explosive quietly burnt into a junction box on the side of the building, and the bright lights that lit up the exteriors of the building went dark.

Inside, there were elevated voices. They seemed concerned.

"Lemming Leader, one of my guys has eyes on target." Khvist's whisper carried over in his helmet. "We can see her. She's on the roof right now with two of her Marines, trying to get a signal with her radio."

"Is she getting one?"

"Not while our suit jammers are active. But she's still up here, probably thinking it's a malfunction."

"Hm… are you sure that it's her? Nine Whiskers, right?"

"I count nine whiskers on her insignia."

"Hm. Well, that simplifies things. Quite a bit," Baedarsust said. "Hm… that means we go to the easy plan, Slurp."

Sjulzulp looked up at him in confusion. "A new plan? But we didn't prepare to—"

"Don't worry. This is much simpler. We only need her. We don't need the rest of this building," Baedarsust replied casually as he drew up the new approach on his squad's helmet display.

"What?!"

"You did get to the fuck-you breach portion of your training back on Gruccud, right?"

"Wait…"

"Lemming Leader to all units, we've located the objective on the roof of the target building. We are weapons-free on every floor below that. How copy?"

"Copy."

"Copy."

"Spommu, take out her accompanying guards when we go loud."

"I've got them in my sights."

"Excellent. All units, ready to go loud in eight… seven… six… don't stand there with your mouth open, Slurp, you're going to catch flies… two… one."

Bloop. Bloop. Bloop. Bloop. Bloop. Bloop. Bloop. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrt. Bloop.

The enemy nine whiskers did not look happy. She did try to resist, but Spommu zapped her with her "fun gun" right as she bent down to pick up the weapons of the fallen Marines next to her. Even fully disarmed, she struggled futilely in Sjulzulp's grasp even as he slapped plastic zip ties on her paws.

"You schismatic abominations!"

"Schismatics? That's a matter of perspective, isn't it? From my point of view, you are the schismatics."

"May your eggs rot and shatter!"

Baedarsust lifted the visor from his helmet. "Eggs? You're making me hungry, Grass Eater."

"Lesser Predator scum!" the nine whiskers recoiled even as she screamed. She spat at his feet and stared daggers at Sjulzulp. "And I knew the rest of you schismatic traitors are working with the— the barbarians!"

"I know. Aren't they cute?" Baedarsust beamed. "You know… the Terrans, the Great Predators you call them, they've been selling plushie toys of you guys."

"Selling what?" Sjulzulp asked.

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"Toys. Like… for hatchlings to play with."

"Like to teach them how to hunt? I've seen that in one of your documentaries."

"Teach them how to… hunt? No— no, they're just… toys. Never mind." Baedarsust turned back to the nine whiskers. "I understand that you're upset. I'd be upset too if the guy I was trying to kill captured me in a trap, but no hard feelings, eh?"

She snarled and hissed at him.

Baedarsust sighed and made a paw gesture to Sjulzulp. "Slurp, let's dispense with those restraints, will you? They're quite unnecessary in here."

"No… no restraints?"

"Yeah. It's not like she's going to beat me up, is she?" Baedarsust winked at the nine whiskers, a head shorter than him. "You'll behave for me, won't you?"

She did not look any less hostile, but she stopped wriggling as much as Sjulzulp reluctantly cut the zip ties restraining her paws. "What do you want from me?"

"We've just got a few questions for you." Baedarsust made a shoo-ing motion at Sjulzulp with his paw. "You may leave us now."

"Wait, but I want to watch," Sjulzulp protested. "I can handle a little bit of blood and violence. Remember when you made us watch those Great Predator scary movies with you guys?"

Baedarsust shot him an annoyed glance. "Fine, fine. You can stay."

"I'll hold her down while you remove her ears and whiskers," he offered.

"No, no. That's ineffective," Baedarsust said as he laid his rugged tablet on the table.

"Ineffective?"

"Oh, Slurp. You still have much to learn. First, you ask the nice way." Baedarsust smiled at the untied captive who was staring between the two of them, evidently wondering what the trick was. "How are you this fine evening, Nine Whiskers? What's your name?"

"My— my name?!"

"Yeah, you have one of those, right? Or are you guys really just doing the whole numbers thing now? I heard there was a plan… They started breeding so many of you they decided to just give you serial numbers instead of names… I don't know, it's like your Dominion gets a little worse every time I come here."

She glared frostily at him. "I have a name."

"Good. Mind telling me what it is?"

"Why do you need to know?"

Baedarsust smiled. "So I know who I'm talking to. My name is Baedarsust. Baedar-sust. And what's your name?"

"Fine." She crossed her arms, massaging her paws. "My name is… Klevnez…blummen."

"Bless you."

"What?"

"You sneezed. I hope you get well from your illness soon."

"No! That's— that's my name. Klevnez…blummen. Nine Whiskers Klevnez…blummen."

Baedarsust pretended to type on his datapad for a few seconds, then frowned. "That doesn't seem right. Are you sure?"

She glared at him. "Yes."

He worked his datapad for a few more seconds. "No, I don't see your name in there. I think you're lying to me."

She craned her neck to look at his datapad screen. "You must have spelled it wrong."

Baedarsust held the screen away from her. "No, I know how to spell Znosian. I speak fluent Znosian."

"You're lying! You didn't even type my name in!"

"I did!" Baedarsust looked down at her with mock severity. "Nine Whiskers Klevnezblummen, I don't think that's your real name at all!"

She snickered as he said it.

"What?" Baedarsust asked. "Wait. What does that mean?"

The nine whiskers shook her head merrily.

"Klevnezblummen. Klevnezblummen. What does that even mean?"

She snickered again and pointed an accusing claw at him. "I thought you said you spoke fluent Znosian."

Baedarsust ignored her and looked to Sjulzulp for help. "What does that mean?"

Sjulzulp grinned back at him. "It means: I have short ears."

"Oh." Baedarsust grabbed the nine whisker's ears and flipped them over once, as if inspecting goods at the market. "They seem alright. Your ears aren't that short, even for your people."

"No!" she contested hotly. "You're the one that said it! You're the one! You have short ears!"

Baedarsust pretended to not have heard her. "Huh. That seems like kind of a mean thing to name your hatchlings, but I'm sure your parents meant well."

The nine whiskers thumped her foot. "No! It's you! It's you! You're the short-eared one!"

"Alright, alright, nine whiskers. Seriously, what's your name?"

"Klev…dirkenst."

Baedarsust looked at Sjulzulp again. "Slurp? Translate?"

"It means: I eat paint."

"That much is obvious," Baedarsust said, shaking his head. "You do seem like a paint eater to me."

She thumped again. "I do not! It's you! Not me!"

"Well, then tell me your real name."

The captive hesitated for a moment, then answered him. "Sklolust. My real name is Sklolust."

"Sklolust. Sklolust." Baedarsust pointed a claw at her. "Oh, oh, I know this one!"

"Huh?"

"I know what your name means!"

Her eyes lit up excitedly for a moment, and then, when she saw Baedarsust's grin, her face fell. "Oh, you're just going to make fun of—"

He chuckled. "Yeah, Sklolust. It means… I tried to kill some predators, but they captured me, and they were very nice to me, and they did not eat me because I answered all their questions truthfully."

She glared at him. "I won't answer all your questions. I won't help you kill more of my people."

"Who said anything about killing more of your people?"

"That's why you're asking me question! To extract intelligence!"

"Not at all." Baedarsust said as he bent down to scrounge in his rucksack. "In fact, my first— my second question is…" He didn't say anything for a moment, just grabbed a small plastic container out of his bag.

Sklolust got impatient first. She asked, "What was your second question?"

"My second question was…" he said, opening his plastic container. "When was the last time you had something to eat?"

She sniffed suspiciously at the fresh aroma coming from near his paws. "What is the meaning of this?"

Baedarsust took something from the container, a red stick, put it in his mouth, and began to nibble at it. Sklolust was a loyal Servant of the Prophecy, and she'd been fighting for the Dominion her whole life, but she was worldly enough to know exactly what it was he was holding. "Mmmm… freshly roasted too," Baedarsust said as he nibbled. "You know what this is?"

Sklolust wiped her snout. "Roasted baby carrots," she said distractedly.

Baedarsust beamed approvingly. "That's right. Roasted baby carrots. Real ones too. None of that powdered imitation you guys tried to make—"

"What do you want, predator?"

"I just want you to answer my question, Nine Whiskers Sklolust. When was the last time you had something to eat?"

She licked her lips. "When did I— this morning at ration hour."

"Very good." Baedarsust handed her a stick, which she all but snatched from his paws. She inhaled it in half a second. "Now… are you ready for more of my questions?"

Sklolust looked suspiciously at him. "I won't— I won't betray my people for mere… food."

He shook his head and patted her shoulder in sympathy. "I would never ask you to do that. I don't need the secret codes to this system's defense network or anything. Heheh, unless… unless you know them?"

"I don't."

"Pity. Well, that's not what I was after anyway."

"What— what do you need to know?" she asked, her eyes still fixed on his carrots.

"Your predecessor in this position… Nine Whiskers… what was his name again? Nine Whiskers—"

"Nine Whiskers Plirkst."

He handed her another baby carrot. It disappeared right into her snout. "Ah, of course. Nine Whiskers Plirkst. Why isn't he here anymore?"

"He was—" Her eyes turned suspicious. "Why do you need to know?"

"Just curious. He's not in charge anymore, so what can it hurt?"

It took her a moment to decide whether to answer. Not a very long moment, though. "Incompetence. He was incompetent. They sent me to relieve him from this position."

Another carrot.

"Incompetence, huh?" Baedarsust said thoughtfully. "How so?"

"Poor discipline in the unit."

"Poor discipline how?"

She stared at the carrots again like an addict. "One of his platoon leaders attempted to defect. They were detained as they were trying to steal a Longclaw on the way out."

"Why did they try to defect?"

Sklolust held out a paw expectantly. Baedarsust smiled ruefully as he handed over another baby carrot.

"Poor discipline in the unit," she continued in between bites. "Everyone in the battalion knows we're going to lose this front to you— to the schismatics. And since we're the last major front on this planet, the Dominion is just about done here."

"Uh huh…" Baedarsust gestured for her to continue. "And that's bad for discipline in the unit because…"

"It means we need to activate the doomsday warheads after we cripple your squadron in orbit."

"Ah. Your entire battalion is not expected to survive."

"Of course not! That is our duty."

Baedarsust thought for a moment. "And… our squadron in orbit. Why would they— ah, you've been given the State Security kill codes for some of our ships in orbit. To activate in case this planet falls."

She looked at him guiltily, as if she knew she wasn't supposed to have given him that information. He wiped the look off her face with another carrot.

"So you do have the codes I'm looking for. Well, you wouldn't happen to want to tell me what those are, would you?" he asked.

She shook her head even as she chewed on her last stick. "I… can't tell you that. I would never. Even if you starve me to near death and promised me these— these baby carrots if I told you, I would still protect that secret to my dying breath. I swore to!"

Baedarsust scrutinized her face for a few seconds, and he knew she was telling the truth.

Or, at least, the truth as she saw it.

"That's fine."

"It… is?"

"Sure. You've told me enough," Baedarsust said as rummaged through his rucksack once again. After a bit, he found what he was looking for; he took out and unwrapped wires from a headset device. "Ah. Found it. Here, I'm going to need you to sit very still for me for a moment."

Sjulzulp and the captive asked simultaneously, "What's that?"

Without answering, Baedarsust carefully placed the headset around her ears, then took a step back to admire his work with a grin. "Alright, Nine Whiskers, comfortable?"

"It's— it's fine. What— what does it do?" she asked, looking up to try to see what the gadget above her head was doing.

"Ah. Don't worry about it too much." He sat back down opposite of her again and grabbed another carrot from his container. "Now, about those State Security kill codes. You don't have to say anything. Let's just… visualize the codes in our head for a second…"

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