Sessk prowled through the corridors on the way to his duty shift. There were fewer occupants at these hours, which meant less abuse by his fellow shipmates. He had gotten to within thirty meters of the bridge when he heard someone behind him make a comment.

The words came out slowly, indicating the speed of the mind behind them, “I will never understand how the Captain allows you on this ship, being as small and weak as you are.”

He recognized the voice. Of course it was Lekess. That Jergoon was a constant thorn in his side since he got on board, and especially when he was promoted to being the bridge sensor officer.

“I imagine the list of things you don’t understand is rather substantial, Lekess. Tell me; is it more or less difficult to fathom for you than proper hygiene?”

As soon as he said the second part, he knew it was a mistake. That would cost him.

Lekess rushed forward. As he did, Sessk simply pointed to the security dome on the hallway ceiling between them. He saw Lekess glance up at it and slow down. The larger male pulled up short of him and bent down to get in his face.

The hot breath of his shipmate blew the reek of rancid meat into his nostrils.

“If it weren’t for the Captain’s orders barring fighting on the ship, I would kill you where you stand.”

Looking back at the dome, the brute casually observed, “It would be a pity if one of those were to be out of service at some point.”

The smaller Jergoon looked up, “Yes, I suppose that would be a significant security risk.”

A flash of confusion came over Lekess’ face and he said, “It would be bad for you because nobody would be watching, and I could kill you.”

By the forebears, Lekess was such an idiot. Sessk decided it was time to do that nearly incomprehensible thing to most Jergoon and disengage with this lummox. He had actually become quite proficient in swallowing his pride and yielding to live and get the better of his enemies later over the years.

“Oh, oh yes, I see now. Well, I will have to make sure I don’t go walking down any corridors with broken security domes then.”

The larger Jergoon stalked away and said over his shoulder, “You do that, Tiny.”

Wonderful, now he had another precaution to add to his daily routine. He felt the brute really meant to kill him if the opportunity arose.

Entering the bridge, he relieved the crewman on sensors. As he was leaving, the other nearly toppled Sessk with a shoulder chuck. Regaining his balance, Sessk looked back as he took his seat. The now off-duty officer was chuckling to himself as he exited the command deck.

He began going over the current readings and orienting his station to his preferences.

As he was getting started, he heard the Captain’s voice behind him, “Sensor officer Sessk. I allow you on my ship and to sit in that chair because you are one of the best at operating that equipment I have ever seen. Do not be deceived, however. Continuing displays of weakness will only be tolerated for so long. Just this month I have received three requests to kill you by your shipmates who want your place on the bridge.”

He spun in his chair then stood up at attention. It was not technically inappropriate, but it was very near the line of obvious sarcasm.

“Understood, Captain, I will endeavor to make your life easier by not risking mine in the future.”

At this, the faintest breath of amusement shone on the Captains face then vanished. The older Jergoon gave him a nod and Sessk returned to his work.

He actually admired the Captain. In his earlier years, he gained quite a bit of favor in the Syndicate by leading successful raids and collecting thousands of slaves. As he aged, he traded in favors to get the largest Tresk trade run in Jergoon territory. While it wasn’t as profitable as the slave trade and certainly not as distinguished, Tresk had addictive properties guaranteed a very stable income stream. Also, it allowed the old Jergoon to eat as many slaves as he liked, which accounted for his being so overweight.

On any other ship in the Syndicate, the Captain would have been killed off long ago. His position allowed him to surround himself with crew either capable but physically weaker, like Sessk, or those strong in body if not mind, like Lekess. In other words, anyone he could easily control. In a society that revered strength and fame, the Captain had traded in his fame for a life hedged against the inevitable decline in strength. In all, that made him one of the smartest, and oldest, Jergoon Sessk had ever met.

His controls now configured to his preferences, a not entirely standard procedure, he began examining the logs. There were still no detectable vermin in the slave kibble. That was good. If they had picked any up in port they would have bred enough to be detectable by the ships internal sensors by now.

An indicator on his panel lit up and he raised his voice, “Captain, the fleet indicates ready for jump sequence.”

“Make the jump,” was all he said.

The ship transited to the planet Frailty. He never learned what the original inhabitants called it, and it didn’t matter. All anyone knew it as now was the planet Frailty, producer of Tresk. A standard show of strength was to rename conquered worlds and then enslave and redistribute enough of their populations to insure they never gained the numbers to revolt. It also allowed for replacement slaves to be brought in to repopulate in the event of the workforce dying off too quickly, or perhaps if the Jergoon tending those worlds got too hungry and ate too much of the workforce.

The Captain had little interest in uprisings, so he maintained the population just shy of starving to death all the time. It was not a sustainable long term practice, but he had no heirs and all he was interested in was a comfortable retirement. It would last long enough for him, then it wasn’t his problem anymore.

As his sensors were reinitializing, he saw what could have been an FTL transit. When they fully came back online, he focused them on that location and saw nothing. If something had been there, it was a departure, not an arrival.

The Captain’s voice startled him out of his inquiry, “What is the status of the convoy?”

Quickly changing sensor priorities, he replied, “It looks like a clean transit. All ships reporting good jump.”

Turning his bulk toward Sessk, the Captain asked, “And the planet?”

“I am detecting some strange readings. There may be some ships on the surface, but it’s hard to tell with the wreckage of the cities.”

“Are you getting any electromagnetic readings?”

He noted with annoyance the way the Captain said, “Electromagnetic.” It was an overly complicated way to say it. He was sure the reason the old Jergoon used the outdated terminology was to sound important to himself.

“No, Captain, EM is clear. If they are ships, they are either powered down or on silent running.”

There was a moment’s pause as the Captain considered this information, “Send three full security groups.”

The security chief turned around in confusion, “Three, Captain? That’s half of the ship’s security force. You want to send that many troops based on the unsure opinion of a weakling?”

The Captain didn’t respond for an uncomfortable handful of seconds then finally said, “Do you remember those Ssod Clan fools that tried to usurp my hold on this trade rout four years ago?”

The Security Chief stood up a little straighter and said with pride, “Yes, I and my men defeated them all. I gained many honorable scars that day.”

“You almost lost that day. If you had, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. My head would be adorning the wall of a Ssod feast hall and my skin would most likely have been turned into a tapestry.”

“I did my duty, and you rewarded me well for my strength. I am satisfied.”

The Captain looked sternly at the other Jergoon, “Well I am not. You almost lost me a lifetime of gain because you wanted personal glory. You should have taken more troops in with you. I will not let you put my holdings at risk again with your foolishness. Send three groups, no less.”

The officer deflated somewhat and turned to his console while shooting a glare at Sessk, “Yes, Captain, as you command.”

About ten minutes later Sessk was watching through the sensors as the cargo haulers departed from the ship. Everything was looking perfectly normal. The live feeds from the ships cut out momentarily as it entered the atmosphere, but he soon had them established again.

The ships landed and communicated back they had begun loading the harvest of Trask. In all, it was a non-consequential, completely boring shift. He saw the ships power up and begin their ascent through the atmosphere in their first of likely scores of trips. It was a bit odd, however, that they didn’t communicate with the ship as they departed the surface.

He wasn’t the com officer, so he thought little of it until he heard the Captain’s voice ask, “Sensors, are they off the planet yet?”

“Yes Sir, they took off three minutes ago. They are ascending through the atmosphere as we speak.”

The old Jergoon looked over to the communications officer and said, “Hail them.”

“Yes Sir.”

The Captain waited a moment then said, “Transport craft, we detect you leaving the surface but you did not report loading was complete. What is your status?”

There was a pause, and the communications officer said, “They are responding with audio only Captain. They are reporting the video feed on their ship is malfunctioning.”

The Captain was noticeably perturbed at this report and said, “I know it is malfunctioning. It has been since three trade runs ago. Put them on the speaker.”

The officer dutifully did as he was told, “You are on, Captain.”

“What is your status? Are you coming in with a full load of Tresk? Did the slaves give you any trouble?”

The voice came back with a strange accent Sessk vaguely recognized, but he couldn’t quite place, “We have Tresk, yes. No trouble from the slaves.”

“Did you find anything unusual on the surface? What were those readings of potential ships we saw?”

The accented voice replied, “No, no ships. New shelters made by slaves.”

The captain made a frustrated gesture at the communications officer and the connection was cut. He turned to glare at Sessk for a moment before returning to staring at his readouts.

Curious, Sessk focused the sensors on the approaching ships. It was odd, they were accelerating much faster than normal for being burdened with holds full of Trask. Even if the security details were all on their way back, they should sill have enough to slow their rise from the planet’s gravity well.

That accent though, it was bothering him. Where had he heard it before? It was from a long time ago, back when he was just a child.

Sometime later, he was snapped out of his attempts to recall the memory when the First officer’s voice snapped him out of it.

“Captain, the haulers are docking now.”

“Fine, fine. Get the cargo unloaded and send them out again. Inform them of the proper communication procedures. I want to have regular updates of the progress.”

Sessk activated the internal visual sensors and watched the ships enter the docking bay. Before they touched down, they all turned unexpectedly, facing their cargo bay doors away from the cargo loading station.

“Uh, Captain?” Sessk said, putting the image up on the main view screen.

The older Jergoon looked at the image before him and seethed in disgust, “What are those idiots doing? They are aligning the cargo bays in the wrong direction. First Officer Slaskh, get down there and sort those idiots out. Apply whatever beatings you consider appropriate to insure they learn to do their jobs. If it happens again, the beating will be yours.”

“Yes, Captain. It would be my pleasure to educate them.”

With that, the he strode with determined malevolence to the bridge exit.

Something wasn’t adding up with all this. First there was the accent he couldn’t place. Then there was the rapid ascent indicating a light load in the cargo ships, and now the completely unexplainable landing positions of the ships upon arrival. Nothing was making any sense.

Then he remembered where he had heard the accent before.

Back when he was very young, his parents took him on a pilgrimage to the Drokk Clan. They were charged with the sacred duty of ensuring that the planet of the Forbidden was never disturbed or contacted. They lost so many resources fighting the inhabitants that after they enslaved or exterminated the population, they quarantined the planet. Supposedly the Forbidden, vicious machine intelligences, could still be detected roaming the planet by patrol craft looking down from orbit. He was told the stories, but everyone assumed they were more legend than history. The officer actually showed him images of one of them taken only a few months before on one of the highways. That was it; the accent was the same as the Drokk patrol officer.

His curiosity finally getting the better of him, he asked, “Captain, when did we get a Drokk Clan pilot?”

“What are you talking about Sessk? We have no such crew. None of the clans would take them in and allow them to escape their duty.”

His curiosity turned to confusion as he looked back to his terminal monitor at the image of the docking bay. As he did, the large doors on the haulers slid open. In unison, a group of small armored bipeds from each ship began exiting their haulers and darting into the docking bay with military precision and unnerving speed.

Before Sessk could process what was going on, the Captain bellowed into the ship’s intercom, “Intruder alert! Boarders in the docking bay! Arm yourselves and get down there. Kill those alien scum!”

The aliens paused for a moment as the intercom bellowed, then they raised their weapons and began firing on the crew in the docking bay. The weapons seemed to be some form of projectile launchers based on gas explosions. Sessk had seen something similar when he fought in the forces sent in to suppress a slave revolt on the farm world Crippled Six eight years ago. They used such devices, and they were not very effective against the standard armor worn by Jergoon crew. The weapons he saw now seemed to fare little better. The metal pellets they fired were able to penetrate the non-vital areas left exposed by the armor, but such injuries were mere annoyances to a Jergoon. The rest bounced off chest, head, and vitals armor harmlessly.

The Jergoon in the room drew their weapons and returned fire. The aliens scattered and found cover. The small creatures’ weapons must have been highly accurate, because Sessk could see sparks flying off the crew’s armor in time with the bursts of fire from the invaders. The crew, on the other hand, was missing their shots without fail. Observing the situation, he doubted he could have done much better. The nimble creatures were fast and highly proficient in using the available cover.

As he watched, the First Officer entered into the bay. Surveying the situation, he stepped boldly toward the enemy line and drew his Charged Particle Pistol. It was a nasty weapon, more powerful than the standard equipment available to the crew.

In response, one of the aliens spun out from behind a crate and raised its own weapon.

The two fired simultaneously. The red energy blast slammed the small alien square in the chest, knocking it off its feet onto its back. When the shot hit, its armor flared with lines of blue light. In turn, the alien had used some sort of high explosive weapon on the First Officer and he was also thrown backward to the ground. There was a momentary lull in the exchange of fire as both sides watched to see what would happen next.

Slowly, Slaskh sat up and shook his head. To his astonishment, Sessk saw the invader stir, and then also get up. As the alien did so, he was exposed and in the open. Blasts of energy darted at him from the crew, numerous bolts finding their target. Each shot that impacted the armor of the strange creature caused the inlays of blue to flare for a moment, but did nothing else.

Likewise, Slaskh had come under heavy fire from the invaders and their weapons continued to ricochet off the armor he and the crew wore. Occasionally, little sprays of blood would splatter as one of the projectiles found one of the unarmored areas of his body, but the injuries were little more than nuisances.

The alien held up his hand and the boarders stopped firing their weapons. Slaskh likewise did the same with the crew.

A moment of tension hung until the small alien turned its head to look at the weapon in its hand, then dropped it saying, “They didn’t work so well down on the planet either. You people wear armor all the time huh?”

Slaskh chuckled, and without a look holstered his own weapon, “Only the weak are unprepared to fight.”

“So what now tiny? What else have you got?” Slaskh prodded with disdain dripping from every word.

The invader reached up and from a scabbard on its back drew a sword.

The clatter of weapons being dropped by combatants on both sides echoed through the bay as everyone stood up out of their covered positions. Having abandoned the useless weapons they carried, the crew armed themselves with personal blades, tools from the hangar maintenance kits, pipes, or anything else around that looked to aid them in the work ahead. The aliens all had their swords drawn, and were apparently waiting for the crew to appropriately arm themselves. It wasn’t long before both groups had prepared themselves for a more intimate form of violence.

With battle cries on both sides, they charged forward to administer death to each other.

Sessk and the bridge crew were fixated on the main screen as they watched the two opposing sides. The aliens covered far more ground than the Jergoon crew in the moments leading up to the melee, but the size difference was ridiculously one-sided. It looked like a room of warriors about to beat a class full of children to pulp.

What came next caused Sessk to drop his jaw open in disbelief. With unbelievable speed, the alien soldiers seemed to gracefully flow into and through the Jergoon formation. The crew weren’t able to land a hit on them; the aliens were simply too fast and agile. Sparks sprayed out as the aliens swords tried in vain to cut through the crew’s armor. It didn’t take long for the invaders swords soon began finding the weak points, however.

From the joints and thinner portions of armor gouts of blood began pouring out of the crew. To his horror, Sessk saw that many had lost hands, feet, or arms within mere moments of the conflict. It looked like when a Jergoon cook butchers slaves for a special meal.

In less than a minute it was over. First Officer Slaskh, to his credit, had maintained an upright position, albeit now on one knee, blood flowing from a crippled arm and leg. Slowly, one of the aliens approached him. It was hard for Sessk to tell, but he thought it was the same one Slaskh had shot earlier. The invader approached the First Officer and spoke.

“Surrender, and you and your crew will be shown mercy and have your wounds treated.”

Slask looked up at the armored creature in front of him and spat, “You not only defeat us but ask us to accept disgrace as well? What kind of weak boned creatures are you that offer mercy to your defeated foe? Fools, we will never surrender to you! Your actions have condemned your en-“

In one fast, smooth motion the alien raised its sword and brought it down in an arc slashing the throat of the first officer. Blood spattered across the floor. As Slaskh gurgled out his last breaths, the creature casually walked away and headed back to the ship. Walking out from inside the ship, it was joined by a new kind of alien. This one looked like a giant insect and wore armor similar to the bipeds. It had six locomotive legs on its lower body and what appeared to be four manipulator arms on its upper body. In two of the arms, it carefully carried what looked like some kind of crystalline latticed structure.

One of the doors to the bay slid open and another group of crew and one of the security groups poured in, weapons blazing red streamers of energy.

All of the aliens advanced save the one who killed Slaskh and the insectoid. They were shielding the crystal with their bodies and making their way to a terminal on the wall. Zooming in the sensors to the crystal, Sessk saw it had small wires connecting it to the suit of the giant bug carrying it. What could it possibly be?

As they reached the terminal, the biped used its sword to pry it open. Unplugged the crystal from the its suit, the insect extended the line toward the terminal. Small manipulators reached out from the end of the wires and made contact with the exposed terminal components.

“What are they doing?” The Captain said with unmasked concern in his voice.

As soon as he had gotten the words out, some of the systems on the ship went dark, and others began fluctuating. Looking down at his panel, Sessk saw strange computer code streaming through some of the system displays.

Then it all made sense. The accent, the way they protected the crystal core, the systems going down.

“Captain, it’s one of the Forbidden!”

The old Jergoon looked at him with confusion and said, “What? Now is not the time for children’s tales. Attend to your post and prepare to fight! They are no doubt on their way to the bridge.”

Turning to address all the officers, he said, “That goes for all of you. Arm yourselves and prepare to kill these invaders!”

Amidst a murmur of bloodlust and excited grunts, Sessk was stunned by the realization that they actually thought they could still win against these aliens.

Of course, on second consideration, of course they did. They wouldn’t be on the bridge of a starship, even a freighter, if they were at all disposed to surrender. They could only attain such positions by never readily admitting others, especially aliens, to be stronger than they were. After all, one of the primary Jergoon beliefs was, “With strength we rule, with strength we live, with strength we die.”

Fortunately for Sessk, he had been taught another way since he was a handbreadth shorter than his peers. Every day had taught him to pick his battles, and the value of admitting when you were too weak for direct confrontation.

He knew they had no chance, and he was not interested in throwing his life away. If he refused to follow the Captain into combat, however, he would be killed before they even set out toward the enemy.

So, he played along. He murmured and grunted excitedly along with the rest of them. He rose up from his station and began pacing around the bridge clapping his comrades on the shoulders, helping to work up the bloodlust.

The Captain stood up from his chair and shouted, “Come on, let’s go teach them to fear the strength of the Jergoon!”

With that a roar went up from the collected officers and bridge security personnel, and the Captain led them in a charge through the ship. Sessk shouted, and jostled his comrades as they went by. They ran past him as he made his way slowly toward the hallway off the bridge. By the time they had all entered the hallway he was in the back of the group. He stopped in the doorway behind them.

As he watched them all disappear down the hall in a doomed charge, he quietly said, “Go and grunt and shout and cheer on your way to inevitable death, morons,” and walked to the door controls.

With three taps the doors closed and the pressure doors behind them slammed shut. He was now alone on the bridge.

Amid increasing chaos on the panels due to intrusion by the Forbidden, he returned to his console and found a handful of systems that were not yet infected. Among them was the emergency buoy. He quickly keyed a message into it and triggered the launch sequence. He watched on the sensors as it rocketed away from the ship, then aligned itself and jumped away in a flash of FTL light.

He then opened a secondary hailing channel to the escort ships.

“Listen up, because I don’t have a lot of time. The ship has been boarded by unknown aliens and they brought one of the Forbidden with them. They have killed the Captain and most of the crew, and the Forbidden is taking over the ship’s systems. You need to open fire on this ship immediately and destroy it. The Forbidden cannot be allo-“

The panel in front of him went dark.

“My, my, my, aren’t you a naughty little Goon.”

It was a female voice, but he knew none of them were onboard the ship.

“Who are you?” he asked into the empty space around him.

“The Apex haven’t given me a name yet, but you know my sisters and I as The Forbidden.”

He looked around the room to see who was talking, but then he realized it was speaking through the com speakers.

It looked like it was fully infested into the ship’s systems now. He only had one chance left, and that was the Captain’s private launch. It was powered down, which offered both a solution and a problem. It meant that the Forbidden wouldn’t have been able to infect its systems yet, but it also meant he would have to finish the startup sequence before the aliens got to it.

As he moved toward the door, he said, “You won’t get away. Our ships will turn this entire craft into a cloud of orbital debris.”

“These ships?”

The main view screen flickered on to display a split image of the four escort craft. He watched in despair as the one after another they erupted into flashes of brilliant white light. When the sensors recalibrated, the heavily armed and armored escorts were simply gone.

“What…what kind of weapons can do that?”

“Oh, you poor little Goon. That is barely a taste of what the Apex can do to your miserable little species. Oh, do you hear that? They are getting close. Are you ready to die, little Goon?”

Panic took hold of him and he almost jumped to the door control panel. He keyed the sequence to open it so he could make his getaway. As the doors opened, his frail hope of survival shattered.

Waiting outside the door, standing casually in armor splattered with the blood of his captain and crew, were the small armored forms of the aliens, these, “Apex,” the Forbidden spoke about.

The one in the lead raised his sword. Sessk dropped to his knees in defeat. There was no fight left in him. Death literally stood at the door.

In that moment he did what no other Jergoon yet encountered by the Apex had been capable of by breeding and training. This event was that was the culmination of years of conflict avoidance and redirection. This was the trait that would set him apart for survival in a sea of death.

He abandoned all pride for complete humility said softly, “I surrender.”

The Apex in front of him paused, and lowered its sword.

The Forbidden’s voice was loud in his ears, “What? No! It’s a trick. Kill him. Kill the Goon! They never surrender; it has to be a trick!”

The Apex spoke out, “Really? And you wonder why we haven’t put you in a ship and given you a name yet? You have some serious anger issues lady.”

“But he is evil! They all are! Kill it!”

The Apex lifted its free hand and took the helmet off, revealing her face. Short, blond hair messily clung to her sweaty brow.

“Give him a chance to learn a different way. I don’t think this one is beyond redemption.”