T.H.E.M.

After the alien ambassador had finished with the platitudes about galactic unity, the first significant word was THEM. Alliance Intelligence had not garnered much information about THEM. The Theriomorph Hellbent Enemy Mission had appeared one day from the endless unexplored reaches of the galaxy. Until then the Alliance had traded with each other, occasionally engaging in a bit of sharp practice, but never believing that warfare between stars could be practical. While THEM scorched planet after planet the Alliance had tried every known means of signalling. THEM answered no signals. THEM accepted no surrender. THEM ships self-destructed when they were losing. From odd debris the Alliance concluded THEM were not human. No one knew what they looked like, or anything except that they could be stopped. The ambassador thought Earth might have ten months. The Alliance was overextended, fighting for survival. But they could lend a few officers for training Earth to run the ships they could furnish. If Earth buckled down and learned to operate the Alliance ships there was-just barely-a chance. And now even that chance was gone, Art thought gloomily, as he and Jorf watched the holo screen as the bulk of the Earth fleet was annihilated in the space of a few minutes. Earth was finished. There were habitable planets somewhere in the galaxy, but Art didn't know where. And even if they could find one the Nishrub's crew were all men.