Zylox's predicament

     The great council of Scarabaeoidea called their newly elevated war chief before them.
    “War chief Zylox, you are hereby commanded to take the great fleet to the Gian system and dole out justice for the insult they did to our fleet.”

    The war chief had known this was coming ever since the defeat of Octarius Prime. He also knew that choosing to attack Gia was a no win situation; that basically the council was sending the fleet on a suicide mission, but he had to follow the council’s orders.

    “Very well, I shall assemble the fleet.”

    Zylox gathered up their most powerful and newest ships, loaded them with enough supplies to hold a siege of the system for years without a resupply, loaded up terraforming equipment, construction equipment, several freighters of nothing but fuel to keep everything running for again several years without resupply, and a hand selected crew. Then in the wee hours of the Scarabaeoideaian morning he set off for the Gian system. The trip took half of a Scarabaeoideaian year even traveling faster than light.

    It was 12:00 Zulu on a Tuesday on Earth when the sensors went active showing hostile ships approaching the Ort Cloud of the system and Zylox was summoned to the bridge.

    “Sir, Gian military is on the com.”

    “Bring them up.”

    High Admiral Simineaux appears on the screen, and Zylox begins speaking quickly.
    “Good morning High Admiral, I am War Chief Zylox. I was commanded by the great council of Scarabaeoidea to bring my fleet to your system and dole out justice. I have in fact brought my fleet to the Gian system, I would like to dole out justice now and as my witness I am condemning my ships and crew to exile as I request asylum for all of us.”

    Admiral Simineaux blinks then turns to someone off camera.

    “Did he just say what I think he said? Is he basically saying he is mutinying an entire battle group?”

    “Yes, Admiral Simineaux that is what I am saying. From the standpoint of myself and my captains we feel the council sent us on a suicide mission and none of us can see why a million of us should die because the council is...stupid.

    If you would like to board our ships and examine them I am fully prepared for an inspection. We don’t want trouble, we just want to live.”

    “Very well. Prepare to be boarded.”

    Zylox is now as nervous as he has ever been, even as a new recruit in his first battle he was not this nervous. A million lives rely on him not making a mistake during this. He had painstakingly combed through files, selected those that would be of like mind to himself, shuffled their assignments, had their personal effects brought on board, and even their families; in his thirty years on war ships he had never heard them filled with the laughter on younglings or seen so many games played in the corridors.

    The Gian shuttles began docking and Gian boarding parties began entering the ships. The High Admiral herself boarded his dreadnought meeting him at the airlock as she stepped aboard.

    “Hello High Admiral, welcome aboard the...I believe it translates to your language as The Prancing Demise. What would you like to see first?”

    “We’ll start with your bridge, then review your manifest and fleet manifest. If our scans are correct most of these ships are new and some are freighters not war ships.”
    “Your scans are correct, I didn’t want my own kind to have an easy time following us so I took the newest and best. Some are bulk freighters, as we brought terraforming equipment since we weren’t really sure where we would end up. I just assumed we will be refugees eventually.”

    The Admiral reviewed the manifests, had her boarding parties verify them, and verify the crew contingent. The crew was mostly engineers, doctors, scientists, not hardened combat veterans, but what cinched that Zylox was telling the truth to her was the ships were basically overloaded with spouses and children of the crew.

    “So Zylox, where did you plan on landing this fleet?”

    “Honestly? I assumed I would need to work that out if I got this far, and I really wasn’t sure we’d get to this point.”

    “I am gong to leave some troops on each of your ships, we shall man the bridge, engineering, and weapons. I have some calls to make to our leaders, this is unprecedented and could take a few of our days or maybe even weeks to work out how to handle this situation.”

    Admiral Simineaux leaves Zylox on his ship along with a heavily armed contingent of Marines as she heads back to DN-63. Back in her office she notifies the chain of command of what is going on and they are as baffled as she is. For the next two weeks Zylox paces the corridors of the Prancing Demise, and the Admiral sits on the bridge of the Missouri watching this oddly outfitted fleet as she sips her coffee. Then she got word from command and takes the next shuttle to see Zylox.

    “Welcome back High Admiral, what news do you bring from your government?”

    “They are willing to grant you asylum, we understand your people have experience with terraforming high temperature planets? We have a planet that averages 737 degrees Kelvin, but the atmosphere is mostly carbon dioxide, and it rotates very slowly. Would you be interested?”

    “We have done well with worse.”

    “Then welcome home neighbor, your next stop is Venus.”

    Ten years later Zylox stands in his yard looking at the newly formed ocean, breathing the air of Venus, while at night being able to look deep into the Milky Way. His former crew and their families have grown from a million up thirty thousand. His former war ships had been taken to the Jovian shipyards for research, but they were allowed to keep the freighters. Being the Venutian ambassador to the Gian council he is on Earth several times a year now and has become friends with High Admiral Simineaux.