ONE: Epilogue of Hermesh

30. The Master Race

The Hakisangh was the first prototype ship capable of being crewed independently or jointly by all the three species fighting the war. If Hakisangh class ships could be phased in, it would effectively end the logistical problem of three different types of ships for three different species.

As Commodore Reemon Erra studied the latest data from the test runs, the door to his quarter opened and a Xacreth by the name of Yannan stepped in.

"My Lord, the Manwatu escort ship is here. Its captain is asking permission to take us to Andhorh." Yannan said through his translator device.

"By all means. Let's not keep our hosts waiting." Erra replied, looking up.

Relaying the message, the Xacreth remained standing before Erra. Realising that Yannan would not engage in conversation unless spoken to, the Commodore asked, "Have you seen the results of the tests of the new prototypes?"

"I have, My Lord." Yannan answered.

"What do you think?"

"If produced in sufficient numbers, they can potentially reduce our numerical disadvantage when facing the enemy."

Erra looked out absentmindedly. Their ship had started to move again. Yannan, who was still rooted to the same spot, asked, "Are you worried, My Lord?"

"I am. Honestly, I don't know how to negotiate with Alamiin or the Manwatus." Erra replied, sounding exhausted at the very prospect.

"You cannot negotiate with Alamiin."

"And why is that?"

"To agree to your terms, they first have to accept the inevitable fate of Hermesh. If they concede, they'll have no choice but to relinquish power." Yannan clarified. "Hence they'll deny the present reality as long as they can, to keep their positions of authority."

"Now you sound like Naaroke," Erra smiled. "But whatever they may accept or choose not to believe, they still have their uses. We're soldiers, Yannan. Maintaining law and order across Hermesh, evacuating refugees from one planet to another, or making sure that the supply of sufficient raw materials reach on time are the kind of tasks better left in the hands of those who are experienced in dealing with such challenges."

"When they realise there is but one path that leads to the end, they will yield." Yannan replied.

"And what if by then, it's too late?" Erra asked back.

"Defeating them at their own game is the only other peaceful option to explore, My Lord."

As the Xacreth ship approached it, the giant cone-shaped Manwatu ship that was hovering in the distance, slowly turned 180 degrees and started to accelerate. They were finally entering Manwatu space.

Looking at Yannan, who was still standing in the exact same spot, Erra bristling. "Yannan, if there is something on your mind, you have my permission to speak freely."

"Thank you, My Lord," Yannan replied, "The Manwatus will join the war."

"Of course they will. The question is not 'if' but 'when'."

"Now; if you ask them."

"I'm touched by your confidence in me." Erra said with a wry smile. "But in my past interactions with the Manwatus, I have found my skills of diplomacy wanting, when negotiating with beings who treat us like..." Erra struggled with the right words, his distaste clearly visible on his face. "...less evolved beings."

"Manwatus consider themselves the master race of Hermesh. They've also been watching. They'll side with you because they are survivors."

"That is encouraging, Yannan. However, I don't know if they will accept our proposed final solution."