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  From their own experience and their experiences under the alien Treth, they are xenophobic to any other alien species. They have empathy for their own species, but it is…alien. They are not above altering their own children to fill a roll, either as a warrior, worker, wraith, or even a hellhound. They live in flying cities or in ancient mountain and canyon cities.

  Zerinoth evolved on a 1.3 gravity Terran class planet with ten continents and many islands in an oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere.

  All but the arctic continent has a clan, and wars were fought in ancient times over resources. The clans take their names from the continents they have inhabited.

  Ragna'thoth Clan: The largest of all the clans, they are thought to be the first clan. The clan has the largest population, extending beyond the main continent to the chains of isles to the west and south. Over half of the clan range is desert. The Rafna'thoth of present times are dignified, diplomatic and natural leaders.

  Hri'tre Clan: A desert clan inhabiting the small continent at the center of the cluster. The Hri'tre lands have been the focal point for many battles and have been overrun by invading clans many times. This clan is also the origin of the wraiths. The Hri'tre continent was also used as a trade center, and the clan has learned to exploit that.

  Threoth Clan: A desert and tropical continent, south of the Hri'tre continent. The continent has been a battlefield in times past for its vast hydrocarbon (oil) stores. The Threoth have been slow to trust the other clans. They are a second source of origin of the wraiths.

  Servis Clan: A small clan continent southeast of the Franos continental belt, just above the Hri'tre continent. This continent has thick forests and very flat land, not favored by the mountain loving Zerinoth people. Because of this the population is small even to present time, and the population is just beginning to tap the resources underground.

  Franos Clan: The northern most clan, they have large tracks of forests and mountain homes to the west. The Franos are known for being stubborn, hermit like and dislike change or progress.

  Weldech Clan: (also known as the Weldek) A jungle clan, third largest of all the clans in territory. The great jungles provide many resources for the clan. This clan is heavy into biological and botanical research (due to the resources of its jungles), and has many centers for medicine. With Phaos they have invented cybernetics for the Zerinoth as well as re-inventing the hellhounds.

  Aservoth Clan: Inhabiting the small deciduous continent far from the main cluster of continents, the second youngest clan is highly mobile and aggressive. This and the Phaos continent were settled strictly by sea travel because of their great distance from the main cluster.

  Krackos Clan: The southernmost clan, inhabiting the backward L-shaped continent near the southern arctic. Arctic mountains to the south allowed for many cities, and the continent was a trade center for many years.

  Phaos Clan: The youngest clan, they inhabit the small continent and chains of isles south of the Aservoth Clan. The Phaos Clan draws its ancestry from the roots of all the clans and is the most innovative of all the clans. Recently, they have settled the southern arctic cluster of isles creating some tension with the Krackos Clan. The Phaos Clan has used its innovative spirit to reverse engineer or invent many devices for the Zerinoth to use. The Phaos Clan is the center of expansion off the planet; almost half of the colonists on all the colonies are from the Phaos.

  Structure: the Zerinoth use age, skill and strength as a determination of leadership. Elders are the thinkers and political muscle of the clans. Each Zerinoth is oath bound to their family and clan. Over the past five hundred years, the oaths of clan loyalty have been relaxed and eroded to make way for the central governing council and the defense of the people.

  The clans are united in a governing council with each of the clans having a pair of delegates. The council rotates the head leadership position between the clans, going from oldest to youngest. Clan elders select the delegates. Since Zerinoth live hundreds of years, there are still some Zerinoth around who were born during the Treth occupation or even before it. The species has long unforgiving memories.

  Units:

  Drone: Workers of the Zerinoth. Ape-like Zerinoth programmed with cybernetics as organic robots.

  Hellhounds: Foot infantry and cannon fodder of the race. Genetically engineered quadruped Zerinoth with the intelligence of a dog but with cybernetics and enhanced bodies.

  Warrior: Also known as a soldier, the most common Zerinoth. They can cloak if they remain immobile. They have four plasma weapons on their forearms and are loaded with cybernetics.

  Wraith: Zerinoth assassin priest cast who disdain external clothes or weapons. They can move and attack while cloaked.

  Cyborg mecha: A “chicken walker” style mech (think ED-209). It has a Zerinoth genetically engineered brain or a fallen warrior or wraith brain inside.

  Super Dragon or Great dragon: A full adult Zerinoth measuring up to one hundred meters in length. They have incredible armor and weapons.

  Transport: A cyborg brain driven shuttle with massive engines.

  Drone: A cyborg brain driven saucer drone outfitted with a pair of weapons. Used as a recon platform or weapons platform.

  Fighter/bomber: A bat winged/scorpion tailed fighter with energy weapons on the wingtips.

  Frigate: A hammerhead warship.

  Cruiser: Mainstay warship of the Zerinoth.

  Dreadnaught: Capital ship of the Zerinoth fleet. Very few are around.

  Carrier: Manta ray shaped carrier.

  Ground:

  Note, most of the Zerinoth buildings are airborne and, therefore, hover. They do not move.

  Obelisk: Ground command center of the Zerinoth.

  Extractor: Ground facility designed to gather resources.

  Fusion power core: Ground power source. It beams energy up to all hovering platforms in the area.

  Aerie: Flying barracks shaped like a golden mushroom.

  Mech center and cyborg lab: Factory to make mecha.

  Orbital shipyard: Used to build ships and small craft.

  Probe C3: Saucer shaped flying platform built to command, coordinate and communicate with drones.

  OWP: Orbital weapons platform.

  Capital ship R&D center: Spindle shaped complex with mushroom buttons on the ends. Designed to build capital ships or tech for them.

  Command Relay: Communications satellite.

  Wraith temple: Flying temple to produce wraith.

  Armory: Designed to build weapons.

  AI research center: Flying platform designed to research and study Demon Mecha.

  Yo Ho Ho

  A Pirate's Life For Me

  “Fleet intelligence believes there is a notable,” the admiral turned to his chief of staff, “Notable,” he said again, raising his eyes for emphasis, “Notable pirate presence in your area. All due caution for shipping is advised,” he said in disgust, making air quotes over the last word.

  Admiral Richard Waldecke was a classic flag officer, or at least he liked to think of himself as such. At fifty-five he was one of the youngest to reach his third star, practically unheard of. But a couple scandals that had hit a few years back, plus the proper patronage in the chain of command as well as in politics, had greased the wheels of promotion to get him this far.

  But now it seemed to have ground to a halt. Hence, his present dilemma. He rubbed a thick finger against his buzz cut. He kept his blockish brown hair short, less than a half centimeter long. He was a lifter with a body made to look like it was chiseled out of granite. Other staff pukes had let themselves go when they'd been posted, but he'd been the rare bird to keep his PT up. It had paid him back later. He had the constitution of a bull and knew it.

  “To hell with that. If we break up the fleet into penny packets to cover every convoy, we'll have nothing to use as an offense,” Waldecke snarled, tossing away the tablet. Fortunately, a tech was nearby and caught the device before it was damaged.

  “Well sir, they di
d give us a probability of where the pirates are,” Captain Zera said slowly. He recognized that his boss was in a foul mood. Admiral Richard Waldecke was a political animal, one who'd come up through the ranks in the strategic think tanks or staff positions instead of the more traditional line officer route. He was a battle line admiral, using his capital ships as a sledge hammer with the carriers in a supporting role.

  Or he would, if he'd had more than the old Philadelphia dreadnaught and fleet carrier Halsey. Halsey was relatively new, but Philly was old. She'd been recently updated though, but that had been three years ago. A lot could change in three years.

  “I'm starting to regret this posting,” Waldecke growled under his breath. He closed his steel eyes briefly. He'd thought that a good piece of action would help his career; right now it was stalled. That was why he'd put in for what he thought was the front and pulled every string he could to get it. Now he wondered if that had been such a good idea. For one thing he didn't have nearly the assets he'd thought he deserved, something any real flag officer worth their grit would tell you. Why, he had a squadron each of corvettes, destroyers and cruisers, but only the two capital ships! And one a fleet carrier! He shook his head in disgust.

  “Sir, we do have that intel report from last week that gave us probable locations of pirate meeting points,” the intel lieutenant said hopefully.

  “The one from that captured smuggler?” Captain Zera asked. The lieutenant nodded.

  “Might as well be reading tea leaves,” Waldecke snarled.

  “Sir, scuttlebutt in the port is saying that there is a smuggler or pirate base somewhere near. In one of the empty systems,” the lieutenant went on, ignoring the chief of staff's head shake to warn him off. “If we factor in the two reports, then…”

  “Scuttlebutt? What the hell do they know!” Waldecke snarled, turning to round on the shocked lieutenant. “Seriously? You'll take the word of some half-drunk homeless wino looking for a handout?”

  “Sir,” the lieutenant said, coming to attention. “You ordered us to follow all leads,” he said doggedly.

  The admiral eyed the man, visibly filling up to blow. Captain Zera frowned then decided an intervention was in order. Otherwise, the lieutenant's rather promising career was about to implode. “Sir,” he said, waving a tablet to get the admiral's attention. “He may have a point. I've got his extract here, and he may have stumbled onto something,” he said.

  “Eh?” the admiral asked, swiveling like a turret to his chief of staff. “You were saying?”

  “Yes, sir,” the chief said, then pulled up the plot. “They gave us this area to look into,” he said, highlighting nearby empty systems. “Now, we know the pirates are space based, so if we eliminate the ones with possible habitable planets…” He highlighted a few and then deleted them. He then turned to the young man.

  The lieutenant nodded; his poise restored. “Then if we factor in what intel we know about them, range of their ships and also their need for fuel,” he said, picking up the narrative. One by one additional systems were eliminated. “We're left with three systems sir. The intel dump from last week indicates this one is a high probability,” the lieutenant said, indicating an empty system.

  “But there is nothing there, just gas giants and rock,” the admiral growled.

  “Yes, sir, which they can use to hide in and refuel.”

  “Like looking for a needle in a hay stack,” the admiral grumbled.

  “Not necessarily, sir,” the chief of staff mused, smiling like a wolf. “We just have to have the right…incentive to draw them out into the open,” he said.

  The admiral turned to his chief of staff for a long moment studying him. Finally, he too started to smile.

  ~~~~~~*~~~~~~

  “So, we're really going to do this, sir?” the lieutenant asked quietly, looking at the chief of staff.

  “It looks that way doesn't it?” Captain Zera said. “And FYI, you can express doubt to yourself but not publicly. We're not having this conversation,” he said. “The admiral is very…firm about doubt.”

  “Ah, yes, sir; sorry sir,” the lieutenant said. “I'm just…surprised we're not sending in a probe first or waiting for backup.”

  The captain frowned thoughtfully and then shrugged. “Well, you should know that a probe, in this case a ship, would undoubtedly be detected. Once the enemy knows they have been spotted, they'll run, and we'll have to start the whole chase over again. Pinning an enemy for an engagement is…difficult,” he said, “especially if they are known to run,” he said.

  “Which pirates do. As long as the odds on the forces are against them,” the lieutenant replied with a nod.

  “Yes, they do like to pick off helpless freighters and liners, don't they?” the captain asked, tone colored in darkness. The lieutenant nodded, cold sober.

  “You said there was a second thing, sir?”

  “No, I implied it,” the captain replied. “Politics are involved, and well, you should know that if this doesn't work out your ass and most definitely your career will hang in the balance. If we come up dry, you'll have egg over your face, and that'll be it for little Mr. Elda's flowering career.”

  The young man nodded but didn't seem uptight or upset about that. Zera raised an eyebrow, the boy knew the risks but was professional enough to go accept it. Good.

  “Why the capital ships though, sir? The Carrier I can understand; they can spread out and find the pirates if they go to ground, but Philly?”

  “Not eager for action, Lieutenant Elda?” the admiral rumbled behind them. The lieutenant whirled, coming to attention. “Or not thrilled about being wrong?”

  “Sir, no, sir,” the lieutenant said.

  “We're ready for jump, Admiral,” the chief of staff reported.

  The admiral gave the lieutenant a long look, then turned to the captain and nodded. “Very well, let's do this smartly and by the book. Jump our decoy, then we'll follow at the appropriate interval,” the admiral ordered.

  “Aye, sir,” the chief of staff said, turning to pass on the orders. The one thing he did like about the admiral was that he delegated his authority. Of course, he didn't cover you if his order fell apart or came out wrong….

  “Station, mister,” the admiral ordered, looking again at the intel officer.

  “Aye aye, sir,” the lieutenant said, bracing and then going to his station.

  ~~~~~~*~~~~~~

  Admiral Genshi Tatsumora, a thirty-eight-year-old strategic genius watched the plan unfold like a beautiful flower, just ripening perfectly in the sun. He knew that flower could burn up if the sun got too hot, but that was the risk they all took in life.

  Genshi was a throwback, a pure blood Asian; his parents had both been born in the home islands of Japan. He'd been identified as a child prodigy before he could walk and had been groomed to learn and use his intelligence to the fullest. His command crew occasionally teased him about being a Japanese Napoleon. Of course, he had to remind them that although he was short, Napoleon had been an army officer, not a Navy one. Besides, the little French prick had lost in the end anyway.

  That little admission usually won a chortle from his staff. It also explained why they still liked to rib him about it on occasion because they knew it got under his skin.

  It didn't really; he just let them think it did. He pursed his lips watching the ship enter “his” system. He'd set up his fleet where the extractors could get the best resources…but also where he wouldn't have too long a wait on the tugs running to the automated platforms for fuel. He'd kept his ships concentrated despite his extractor captains begging to be let loose on their own. And this was why.

  “We've got a wounded bird flopping around, sir,” his chief of staff reported.

  Genshi nodded. “Shall we take the bait, sir?”

  “Not just yet,” the admiral replied thoughtfully. Let's see if they get any deeper in first. Order our ships to recall all tugs and cease all exterior work. Go to ecom one and silent running,�
�� he ordered.

  “We're going to let it go by?” the chief asked.

  “No, we're going to wait a little longer,” the admiral replied patiently.

  “Oh,” the chief of staff said, stiffening. “Aye aye, sir,” he said. The admiral nodded as he turned away. Helio was a good kid, but he was a touch too eager. In this game one needed patience. The patience of a tiger who was stalking his prey.

  He didn't imagine any of his people had ever thought they would be doing this, they or their descendants. Captain Brightwater and the other clan council elders had done well to keep them alive, but they'd gone beyond that. They'd not only lived; they'd thrived in the cold depths of space.

  The Remington Clan was the largest clan of Exiles. They had the largest industry, which was rather easy since the Wander and Thieves guild had none whatsoever. Only the Imperial Remnant could come close to competing with the Remington Clan.

  “Sir, they will get away,” the flag lieutenant cautioned.

  “Yes, they might,” the admiral said then frowned. “Oh, very well,” he sighed theatrically. They both knew better; he'd set this up ahead of time. “Order Slash and Burn to flank the bird and catch her if possible,” he said.

  “Just them, sir?” the chief of staff asked cautiously.

  “For now,” he said airily, waving a hand. “Let's see if Waldecke is really going to let them die as sacrificial victims or if he'll jump the gun,” he said.