I would like to thank Sable Cold for taking on the impressive job of being the Beta Reader for this book. As always reviews are welcome. If you find this is easier to read and follow. Thank Sable Cold and all of his hard work

I do not own Battlestar Galactica or have any connection with them, other than I have seen the shows. And it was a long time ago. I also do not own or have input into the game of Rifts. I don't even play the game. But I do own copies of some of the books, and I have used them for this story.

Chapter 37: Click, Click

Earth Early October 2019

Miles had been on the island for a few days now. He had no idea what normal was like for these people but when he was issued a Colonial style combat helmet, side arm, rifle, and chest plate insert that he was supposed to put into his thin body armor, he thought things might be getting a bit more tense in the outside world. It was strange, but Miles found himself enjoying the rush at the idea of action. He had no problem telling his growing group of friends that he felt ten years younger after stepping one foot on this island. He was thinking about a few stories he had looked up. Ones that said this was the same thing some of them had felt back in 1948. It did not take long for him to remember his old tricks so that the added equipment did not slow him down that much. All in all, it was an odd way to start a probation period at a new job but he did not mind in the least.

Miles was currently working on extending the dirt road above an abandoned town that was labeled Uturoa on the maps he was working with. The road was slowly moving higher and higher into the tall hard spine of the mountain above the local blue water. Some of the work he had done had been in a few isolated areas. Most of the time he was only putting finishing touches in some areas. In other areas he was putting in a wider part of a turn on the road bed. He could see more working equipment higher up the hill whenever he hit cleared spaces.

He had just finished a noon meal of a thick three-layer cold cut sandwich and, of all things, a beer to go with it. All he could do was laugh inside about what OSHA might have done if they found out about a company giving heavy equipment operators a cold beer for lunch. He had only just finished the last bit of the no longer ice cold but still cool beer when both he and his backhoe were re-tasked mid project.

Now he was working on a very low building on what looked a lot like some defensive positions. The low building was deep in the covering wood line overlooking a certain location of the island. A location that even Miles could tell was important to cover with weapons fire. After finishing over a dozen four man sized points in various locations near enough to each other to be mutually supporting, he was picked up and taken back to the barracks for a hot meal and a cool place to relax. After working almost ten hours in the hot sun it was a godsend.

That break did not last long. He had just gotten done with a lukewarm shower when things started to happen around the local area he lived out of. The temperature of the water in the shower was of his own choosing after a hot day in a non AC equipped backhoe. He had put some aloe on his shoulders and arms after patting dry with a towel he had brought in one of his bags from back home. He was glad his best friend had joked that he should not forget it while he was working on a tropical island. He had also packed two nice sized bottles of sunscreen along with the good sized bottle of aloe in his limited space. It meant that he could not bring as many wet wipes as he had wanted but having a shower close by to his sleeping area made that a very sound decision in the end.

He was looking forward to his first paycheck as he rubbed the soothing oil into his sunburned skin. He could hear music playing from a building down the way from the barracks. He had been to what had turned out to be the local watering hole a few times already. He did not intend to make it a habit, but tonight seemed like they were working on getting a good sized party going as the sun finally set on the water.

A bell at the head of the open bay of beds started clanging at full volume, and it brought Miles out of his daydreaming. Miles still was wrapping a beach towel around his waist when he walked into the main room and sleeping area of the barracks. When he cleared the last open doorway he noticed that a stranger was standing at the door leading outside. The stranger stopped talking when Miles entered the large room from its other side. Miles just gave a nod and walked to his bunk about halfway into the room.

Charles saw the door to the shower area open and a half naked man covered in a large brightly colored towel enter the room. He had been making some small talk after being told they were not all present. He was being the friendly boss, doing a seeing how his workers were doing kind of small talk. It gave him the chance to talk to new people. With all of the bed racks filled, now he could drop that facade and get to the needed task. He still had a lot to do tonight, and the Chinese were getting closer every hour.

"Well, now that we have everyone, I need some volunteers to help work through the night or as long as they feel safe doing so." Charles was about to add some more of his sales pitch tone into his voice, but he was interrupted.

Before Charles could say any more, the half-naked man spoke up in a loud voice. It was not quite loud enough to be a shout, but it came from a person who worked on heavy equipment for a living and had a normal speaking voice that matched his large frame and work environment.

''Sir? Will we be building more fighting positions?" Miles was standing by his bed, but he had not tried to put more clothes on. That could only end in more embarrassment than just standing in his underwear covered by a towel.

Charles was not expecting one of the new people to put together what they had been doing all afternoon. His first thoughts were that he could have denied the information but at the last second he changed his mind. Instead Charles went a different route and when directly to the point. He went for the two birds with one stone approach to the group.

"How did you know what you were building? I'm sorry but I don't' know all of your names yet." At the last second Charles remembered that some of the people in this room had spent a couple of years in a local combat zone.

Before Charles could have an answer, he was interrupted by a few snorts coming from different locations around the room. It was the other heavy equipment workers. He was not able to make out who they were, but one had been the man in the towel. Charles did not get the joke. He was just about to repeat the questions in a more pointed tone, specifically the 'I am a Colonel and you are grunts' tone.

Miles went to the point. Now he was uncomfortable to be addressing the boss wearing nothing but a beach towel around his private parts. "Sir, a few of us have been in combat before. Besides, I have done this kind of thing enough before that it was not hard to figure out what we were doing. Even if we did not notice the areas that they were trying to cover if those holes had people with weapons in them. Now, if you don't mind me asking Sir, how long 'til the bad boys land, or are you just putting them in, just in case?"

Miles folded his thick arms over his slowly shrinking belly and kept talking. "If they are being put in for something more than a few months down the road, you're wasting your time, our time, and fuel and maintenance on our machines. They are not going to be worth anything after the rains work on those holes a few times."

Charles gave a wry smile to the group of Earthborn. They were smart and they obviously had a laundry list of experience. If they had not been a special breed, they would not have been willing to work for the Colonials and maybe go off planet. Thousands had sent in applications, and they were only looking at maybe seventy-five that might be viable. They were the ones that had the right skills and could follow simple orders like not talk about something for a short amount of time.

"We have a Chinese problem that seems to be getting a bit bigger faster than we had expected. We think they could be here in a few days to maybe a week. It will depend on what they might be planning. We don't know what they are planning for sure but I would not bet that they just want to stop by for a cold beer or something like a few pounds of barbecue pig."

Now it was Charles' turn to fold his arms across his own chest. "How would you suggest that we make those fighting positions more permanent in this climate?"

Miles had no idea where this guy was in his food chain. They had not been briefed on that yet but he had never been one to shy away from a few pointed questions. Not even during his army days. If you were scared of the answer, you had better not ask him the damn question. He only waited for maybe two or three seconds to get his thoughts in line before addressing the other man. The stranger was not in any uniform that he could tell, so maybe he was a civilian? Miles decided to keep it simple and away from the more complex military technical stuff.

"If you have some extra slabs of concrete, like from some of the old driveways or something like that? That would be great. If you had some concrete pipes in the four feet or larger sizes you don't need right now, that would also work great to shore up the dirt walls from any settling. And it would work to keep the dirt from falling back into the holes by rain run off."

Miles waited for a second, then went in whole hog. "Also, the metal overhead protection is a bit overkill if it's anything like your armor plate. I would just use green cut logs. You can lay them on top of the positions. About two layers of them on top of each of your foxholes in a crisscross layout should stop anything up to a tank main gun round or a direct hit by 105 or 155 rounds. That is, if you put them two or maybe three layers thick. Guided missiles would still be an issue because they can fly into any openings you will have to have for firing out of." Miles stopped talking. He knew that if he kept this up he would get deep into the military whys like how metal can hold heat that would be visible on most missile and tank targeting systems. And this guy might not speak the language known as Military.

Charles was looking at the towel draped man closely. He had not been that deeply in the loop on the selection process for this first group of Earthborn to be hired to help out around the island. He made a note to change that when he got back to his command center. This was not just some with military experience along with other skills.

"How do you know for sure about the logs? My people are very sensitive to lose of life after everything we have been through these past few years." Now it was time to see if this man knew what he was talking about, or if he was just talking out… from under his towel.

A second voice spoke to the room. It was from just off to the left of Charles and on the opposite side of the room from the towel wrapped man. This voice sounded just as assured when it spoke to the room.

"Haji would drop a few date palms, or other type of orchard trees to use as cover and concealment for his command detonated explosives firing points. It also worked for the Japanese against the US Marines and Army units that fought in this area about seventy years ago. It should work still, unless they have a lot of tanks with them. Or a crap ton of anti-tank rockets and maybe flame throwers. If something like that happens? Then we're all gonna be screwed, and we will just have to die a good death."

Charles went back into business mode and took back control over this meeting. He needed to have some of his staff come over and pick a few more brains when he left. "I will pass that along to the ground force commander on the island. So, do I have anyone wanting to help put in more fighting positions tonight? Also, If anyone who would like to leave the island on the next boat? Please let your first line supervisor know."

He looked around the room. All but two of the group held up hands or just started to get dressed for work again without saying a word. Charles had a smile on his face and pulled out a small pad of paper. He walked around the room and took down the names of those who wanted to help. Charles made a few additional notes next to some of the names and left the room. He passed both sets of information to the first line supervisor of this group. The ones with the ideas, and the ones who wanted to help, versus the ones that did not want to help at all. Not once did he offer the group any more money. He did not want to be around people whose first thought was how to line their pockets in time of someone else's need or a crisis situation. Over one shoulder he called back to the room.

"Thank you. A transport will be here shortly. It will take you back to the areas that we need the defensive points put in."

Work would go deep into the night. Most of the work was helped along by lights from truck mounted devices and held by hand. By now seeing an odd four wheeled hunchback ATV was old hat for the newest group. Even seeing the hover car no longer caused any sideways glances anymore.

Not all of the volunteers made it past the half hour midnight break for a hot meal. Miles was one of the few that did. The only sleep he got was while he was waiting for his ground guide to show up to take him to his next location to dig out. The last and longest nap he was able to get was a whole two hours that he had while strapped in to his machine operator's seat. It was sleep in name, at least. It was another trick he had learned in the military. Even ten minutes of shut eye could get you another half hour of work. Needless to say, it was not the safest way to work.

When the sun rose again, Miles was still working. Finally the foreman ordered him to rest in the back of a large golf cart or truck for a while. This allowed a second team of personnel to take his machine to get checked out, serviced, and refueled for him. His skills were not needed for these operations, so he got some sleep and crashed out for a few hours. Then it was back to work fueled on caffeine and Colonial stims, which he found out were amazingly good. When he went back to work, there had been another change to the defense plans.

Miles was joined by woodcutters, who would be dropping a few trees. The trees to be cut were not too close to the hole, so the cutters would drag the fresh cut logs to a central point. Miles noticed that they were cutting two different lengths of wood. He thought the short ones were so that they can put about four layers of wood logs on top of a defensive point. Then they put in four of the longer poles that Miles had to hammer into the dirt with the backhoe's bucket. This told him that they were intended to support the wood roof over the hole in the ground. This both slowed down construction, and was more tiring for the operators of the heavy equipment. They might have slowed down, but not one of them stopped for any major length of time.

From the outside world, besides the one Raptor making a showy flight out of the planet's atmosphere, it looked like nothing had changed for the Colonials. Except things had, and it was even money on how soon an unwanted guest would find out about those changes being made. One of those changes was the increase in the number of small crafts that were now operating off of the main island. Charles' team was making sure that no one knew about them.

New Raptors were landing every few hours, coming in under full stealth. They were also using every trick in the book on how not to be seen by any person or systems on a planet that did not belong to the Colonials. Every time one of the new Raptors landed, it was quickly moved under cover and into different locations all around the main island. These were alternative landing sights that were mapped out not long after the Colonials took over the management of the island. Until these new craft arrived, they had carefully never been used before by anything larger than a hover car.

After the air and space port on the island, the only other place on the one island with more than a pair of Raptors hidden were the large warehouses near the large ship pier that was still not being used by the Colonials. That pier was also empty of any ships still. Besides the new Raptors getting spread around the islands, people in groups of as few as possible were also spreading out across the main island. They had a lot of land to cover, and they did not have a lot of people to do it with that the Colonials fully trusted.

Ruth started to notice something was up when the Colonial space liner came in for a faster than normal landing. It was also a few days earlier than the public information posts at the restaurant said it would be. Between that, and how she could see the locals were acting, her reporter's Spidey senses were on fire. She could feel that something was about to break. She needed deep in her soul to make sure she had her people in the right spot to record the event for history's sake, if nothing else.

Ruth started on her own move by picking up a land line. She was just starting to press the four digits to light up the phone in the Colonial Command Center, hoping to find out what was going on, when the room was filled by the sounds of large equipment moving. It seemed to be very close to the BBC building, which on the outside still had the look of a large private home. The amount of noise and ground shaking was well above normal.

Ruth put the phone down and exited the Hut to see what was going on. She almost ran over the Colonial commander who was coming up the steps to the wrap around porch. Ruth took a step back and went into reporter mode. "Colonel! I was just working on getting on your calendar, but now that you're here, what is going on?"

Charles wanted to try to smile, but then changed course at the last second and let it fall off his face. This was an important visit with life threatening repercussions, not a social call. "Ruth, the Chinese are closing in, and we do not think it's for a social visit for some barbecue."

Charles could see that Ruth had started to go into full press mode. He was trying to protect everyone on the island and he needed her help. What he did not know was if she would help or not. "Ruth, I need you to keep this quiet. I don't want the world to know that we have a good idea what is going on just yet. If we are wrong about their intentions, the effect on international or interstellar relations could be damaged for decades to come. We are going to be ready for the worst, but we are hoping that this all blows over and we are out just some fuel and spare parts. My people have been the subject of a surprise attack one time too many and we lost over twenty billion lives on the last one."

Ruth locked eyes with the older man, and her voice was stern. "So you don't want me reporting this. I think I need to get my people to safety, Colonel. When is the next cargo ship due in?" If she was not going to be allowed to report the news, then she needed to get her people out of the area under threat. At least, that was what she was hinting at.

Charles was a little uncomfortable now. He was not able to get into business mode on the fly as quickly as he normally could. He was just too tired right now to be on his A game. "Ruth, I would like you and your people stay on the islands. If you leave the islands, then it might leak out that we are preparing for an attack in the short term. I know you're worried about your people's safety, as you should be. Can you come out here, and let me show you something?" Charles was playing for time, but he also wanted to let Ruth know that he had her people's safety in mind as well.

Ruth nodded in agreement, and without saying another word that might be heard by the people in the main room of the house, she followed the Colonial officer outside and around a slight turn away from the house. They were walking towards the tree line at the edge of the cleared property the BBC was using as its base of operations.

After Ruth had exited the building and her eyes had adjusted to the bright sun outside, she saw a wall of huge earth moving equipment moving around that side of the building. That explained the shaking and noise she had felt and heard not long ago. After getting over the amazing size of the yellow trucks, she noticed that a group of twenty or so people was walking around the earthmoving equipment.

Charles stopped at a safe distance from the heavy equipment. He was on the near the side of the main road that ran down one side of the property line that the BBC had been given to use rent free. It gave him a good viewpoint of the work site, and of the BBC's makeshift office at the same time.

He was looking at the mass of objects in front of him when Ruth stepped up beside him again. He casually pointed to some of the people that were milling around. "Look, Ruth. We are building a bunker for your team. It should be about a three hundred square meter box, with heavy protection along the top and sides. It will have an armored roof, which will be better than what most of the rest of my noncombatants will have access to for the near future."

Charles kept talking, but he had a deep frown on his face as he kept talking. "Now they will have body armor, which your people won't have, so I will call that a push for now. If we have enough time, I will make improvements on those other less at risk bunkers. I wish I could get some extra body armor to you and all of your people. It's just that we don't have them here. And we can't get any more in the timeline we think we have left to be of any use."

He was not going to go into the fact that he was limited in what legal support he could provide them under Colonial law. He could have given them the left over Colonial body armor, but that thought had not even crossed his mind. He wanted to give them real body armor. He did not think of the old style Colonial Marine Body armor as useful as designed.

Ruth turned and looked at the commander with a level gaze. Her blood was cold in her veins, a chill was running down her spine, and her arm sprouted goosebumps in a blink of an eye. It was a calm voice that came out of her mouth, but it was a calm she did not feel inside. She could tell that the Colonel was tired and he was worried about what might be coming. Then she realized that he was very worried about her people. Why would he be worried about a bunch of reporters that were not even close to his people?

"You think they might target us, don't you, Charles?" As the words left her mouth, she could not help but feel a little shaky in her shoes.

Charles met those eyes with his own level look and shrugged his shoulders. "I know something like that is against your laws. Same with our laws for that matter. To target the members of the Press, on purpose? It is not something to do lightly unless you are a Cylon. I cannot say that my people have not done so in the past, and I know that you know that it has happened before on this planet, and not that long ago."

Charles pointed over his shoulder at the small villa that had bright white letters saying BBC prominently displayed on both sides of the pitch roof. That had been added a few weeks ago by a mixed team of her people and hired locals. "You've marked the Hut and everything, but I can't guarantee that the Chinese will not fire into your camp. I cannot and will not put anything close to this area that the Chinese might target, hit you instead and then have them claim you just happened to be in the way. The reason I would like your people to stay is so that you can show the world what is happening here from our, or more to the point, your point of view. If it just comes from us, many might not believe it."

Charles had to fight not to look at the woman as he watched his people work. "They can work for another two hours before the next spy satellite flies over that the Chinese might be able to access. When it clears the horizon again, they will return to do more work on the bunker. We should have it done by lunch tomorrow. Unless something else comes up. If the Chinese see it, that might be enough proof for them to get away with firing into this area." Charles stopped talking. He was waiting and watching for what might happen next.

Ruth was watching people as they started marking out some of the land with red and yellow tape, seemingly referencing what looked like color maps of some kind. They did not look like normal maps, but Ruth could not really tell from this distance. Maps were not her thing by any stretch of the imagination, even during her time in the IDF. Before she could say anything else, one of the colonel's staff came up to the two people. She handed over a tablet computer, and Charles signed off on the charts. After using the electronic stylus, he nodded to the woman in the hard hat. No words had been needed. Before the staffer could leave Charles pitched his voice just a little too loud.

"Monica, please tell everyone that they need to start wearing their full body armor after dinner at all times until further notice, even if they are in their equipment or sleeping. And Ruth, please, no filming anyone in it. I want you to have everyone have any body armor or helmets also real close at hand, but again please do not let anyone off the island know you are taking these precautions. If things go sideways, I want your people as prepared as you can make them without it leaking to the rest of the world."

Charles nodded as he gave the order. It might not have sounded like an order, but it was an order to the head of the BBC local station. She had just happened to agree to what he had said without saying so. Charles went on as he saw that Ruth was going to take his suggestion.

"If we have time, we will move and dig in your fuel trailer someplace a little safer. I'm sorry, but I have no idea what to do to protect your transmission truck. At least not so that it will still function and the change not be noticed by overhead orbiting spies. Have you tested your emergency satellite rig?" Charles kept his face still as he dropped that little bombshell on the head reporter.

Ruth was quiet and kept her own poker face on. The rig he was talking about was a new item that only had been on the island for a week. It had been packed in with a bunch of spare parts for the new station. In war zones or storms, the final back up to get a story out was a very low bandwidth camera. One that could transmit a very grainy image to the nearest downlink station via satellite connection. Many reporters around the world had shot a breaking news story from balconies in hotels using the first two generations of the devices. This one was supposed to have improved image transmit capability, better battery life, and more damage resistance than previous generations but they had not been tested in the field yet. She had no idea that anyone but one or two of her people knew about the device they had been sent. It was also a great way to be able to break a story when the local government did not want anyone to see something.

"We have not tested it yet. We only have it in case we lose the main truck to a breakdown or if a storm blows in. We had not even gotten our first storm alert yet." She wanted to change the subject a little.

"When will we know when they are done with the bunker? And can I move some things over as soon as it's done?" She found herself asking. She had already agreed that she was not moving any of her people off the island. She just had not needed to say so directly.

Charles was back looking at the workers as they selected trees and were starting to fell them. That was the next step after making sure the ground was right and marked out properly. "As soon as it's done, the foreman will let you know when you can move stuff in. Even if they have not said it's done, if the Big Voice sends out alerts, you need to make a run for it as fast as you can. Don't try to pick up anything, you all just run for the bunker. Your life might well depend on how fast you can get out of your building."

Charles let that last bit float around before turning and walking away from Ruth. He had a lot more to do, and he had already spent more time than he should have here. He just did not know how long he had to do all of the things that he knew needed to get done.

Australia and New Zealand were very close allies, and they both were in a defense treaty with the United States along with a few of their closest neighbors. These treaties gave them access to the raw data from their other partners that let them know about things going on that might impact them. What they were seeing in the current lot of shared data was disturbing. Most of the key leaders in their government and military leadership knew that there was one key reason their economies were doing so well. They had very high hopes, and all of the projections said that this was only the early start of a major economic boom.

These two countries had decided in private that they were going to support the Colonials if they were attacked by the Chinese. There just was not that much they could push in that direction at the moment. Those two countries' leaderships also made a deal not to let anyone else know about these plans. China was too big of a power player for them to want to show all of their cards too soon.

That did not mean they were going to do nothing. Slowly the largest task force the ADF had put together since the Second World War was forming up in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. They were telling any press member who found out about it that they were only working up and testing rusty skills. It had nothing to do with China and the Colonials having issues.

In fact, there were going to be three task forces. The smallest, at least in terms of combat fire power was made up of four Anzac-class frigates. New Zealand pushed both of their ships of that class out of port and helped with crewing on the other two. They were joined by two newly recommissioned Adelaide-class ships, and the LSD Choules. It was rounded out by a fleet replenishment ship and a leased oil tanker. The largest and most powerful task force was going to be centered around two Canberra LSD's, two of the three Hobart-class anti-air destroyers in service, two Anzac-class frigates and one Collins-class submarine. The third task force was made up mainly of support ships being escorted by another pair of recommissioned Adelaide-class ships.

Hidden within this task support was a mixed infantry brigade that was manned by troops from both countries. They had been undergoing joint training for months, preparing for a deployment to support a UN mission in the Middle East. Now it looked like they were going to a... more green and moist destination.

This did not count all of the other assets like drones, patrol planes, and submarines that the two small countries had deployed into the local area. The last year and a half had been well spent by them to improve their defensive capabilities and the number of assets they had ready for a conflict. What they could not buy on the open market, they had made themselves or pulled out of storage. That was a lot of money that they had pumped back into local communities and industries.

In the capital of the United States, the President sat in her office. She loved the way she felt when she was sitting behind the old desk on most days, but today was not most days. Her chief of staff had come into her office with a huge frown on his face. He did not say anything when she asked what he was bent out of shape about now. All he did was pass over an electronic tablet. Hanna sometimes would play up in the press how a woman her age could use high tech devices without being a tech geek. It was a fine line, but in fact she was very tech savvy.

Hanna took the device and quickly flipped through a dozen different screens. They were all different types of polls. They all showed that her party was going to lose a lot of seats in the legislature. There did not seem to be any way to stop the bleeding in the poll numbers. It seemed that everything she did to help turned to crap. And now the Chinese were starting to stir up trouble in the Central Pacific. She already knew what the polls said, and for once, she did not care. She waved her chief of staff to have a seat and waited for her next meeting to start.

The Secretary of Defense entered the office almost ten minutes before his meeting time. He had been contacted by the President's secretary that he needed to come to her office early. When he entered the oval office, his heart sank. He was the fourth SecDef to work for this woman.

He forced himself to be calm. "You wished to see me, Madam President."

Hanna tapped a few folders that bright yellow cover sheets. "I've been reviewing the information about the Chinese ships moving around the South and Central Pacific all day."

That was not true. She had only reviewed a few cover sheets that condensed the whole files into a few paragraphs. She also had only done that half an hour ago.

The SecDef could only blink his eyes a few times but he was a pro. "Yes, Ma'am. We assess that the Chinese are going to attack the Colonials soon. We think that they are going to pound the crap out of the islands with missiles and aircraft. Then they will make a massive ground force invasion over water to hold the islands."

Henna visibly bristled as the SecDef spoke. She had the last review of her nonprofit foundation in mind. It had received a huge influx of funds over the last month, and her husband had just done a full-blown tour of several of the major Chinese cities. They had paid him twice his normal fee for each of the almost two dozen speeches he had given. She was not a fool. She understood what all of that money meant and right now, she agreed with them. The Colonials needed to be taken down a few notches. They were not actively going against her, but with them being a military based society that was able to travel the stars, it was setting a bad example to the people of her nation. Now they seemed to be wanting to follow the alien society's lead instead of hers.

"Yes, I read that in a few different places, but that is why civilians are in charge of the military in our county. The military is always looking for a reason to use their expensive little toys." Henna waved her hand dismissively over the file filled with classified information and kept talking. She knew that history would prove her right. After all, most of the people who would write those history books voted for her party.

"I think the Chinese are only doing a little show of force. They have been given the short end of the stick by these aliens at every turn. This is just a little show of force to the aliens so that they will treat them with an equal hand. This is something the United States should not and will not get involved in."

Henna rocked back into her chair and looked at the man. She had not liked him or the others that had held that same job before him. They all had seemed to believe that they were right and she was wrong. That was wrong and outdated thinking. It was just too bad that none of them had understood that. She had hopes that this one would be different. His name had been pushed by all of the right people.

The SecDef hated his job. The only reason that he had taken the blasted thing was that he believed in his public mission statement. "Madam President, the Colonials were attacked by computers a number of times. They warned the world a few times to stop and the Chinese kept pushing. All they have tried to do is protect themselves from these attacks."

"No! They have been stirring up trouble! And it is none of our business. You and your washouts will not get 'us' involved!" Henna's voice was not up to the screech level, but it was very close.

The SecDef could not believe his ears but made his face stay under control. "Madam, if those are your orders, I will need them in writing. We have treaty partners in that area, and they will want support."

Henna rocked back further until she almost fell out of her chair. How dare he ask for written orders? He had to have been in politics long enough to know that something like that was impossible. Anything written down could be backtracked too easily to the person who gave those orders. That was just not the way it was done in DC. She was about to fire off a retort but stopped. This little man was right, and she could tell that he was not going to back down.

Henna did the handwave thing again like she was swatting at a fly, but it was toward the Secretary of Defense. "Fine then, have it your way. But you are to keep them on a short leash. Or I will have your job."

The SecDef nodded faintly and walked out of the office at the quick step. He was going to have a little talk with the Joint Chiefs but he was not going to tell them what orders had almost been given to them. He knew that the orders would be in his email by the time he was halfway across town. He had taken an oath. He would obey that oath even if it might cost him his job later. He knew that the US military was on high alert, and now he was going to make sure that all of the forces in the Pacific where going to be ready if a shooting war broke out. He was having visions of Pearl Harbor in his mind on the drive all the way across town. He knew that Henna was no Franklin.

Closer to the Colonial controlled islands, the governments of Fiji and Tahiti were also looking at all of the naval power moving close to their waters. They were not happy. For the first time, they realized that they were a very small fish in a very big pond. Even before the new arrivals, they had been having issues patrolling their waters with the few old and donated ships.

Before the Colonials came, their largest ships were three ships that massed only one hundred and sixty tons each. They had been given to them by the Australians a few years ago. Beside that, they had a total of six other smaller ships. It had not even been enough to fight the illegal fishing that plagued the area. It was not lost on this meeting of the leaders of this part of the ocean that there were more and larger 'independent' ships protecting their waters than they could put into the water themselves. Even with the economic boom, money was still slow in flowing in to fix that issue.

Before the Colonials had taken over the two islands they had already been looking at and shortlisting ways for them to take back control of their islands' waterways. When they found out that they were going to have off planet neighbors, the knowledge changed few things at first. Within a few months, it seemed certain that the new locals did only want to trade, but almost all of that trade was going to be coming through their ports before going to the aliens. This was going to give the small local islands access to a huge stream of capital to work with. They went shopping as soon as a few old bills had been paid off.

It was harder than they thought. The stress of finding out that the Earth was not the only planet with life, and the fear of maybe an invasion by the aliens had caused a massive build up in all the militaries in the rest of the world. All of the normal sellers of combat ships were not taking any new third party orders. Well, they would take new orders, but it would be years before they would have their new ships. That was not meeting the small islands' needs in the Central Pacific.

They had looked at China for their new ships but soon found out that while they were cheap to buy they had a higher number of maintenance issues and much shorter useful lives compared to other builders'. They also had other strings attached to them. Tahiti and the surrounding area had learned from their early days with the French all about those types of strings.

They had looked at asking for older ships, but that had not turned out well either. They could get some older ships, but they were going to be a lot older than the ships they already had to work with. It seemed that any ship that was even close to combat ready around the world was being put back into service by their owners. It was almost by accident that Tahiti had stumbled onto a solution. With a quick transfer of funds, something had been worked out.

Two hot weather modifiable Braunschweig-class corvettes could be had. The hulls were almost done for the German navy. They just used some of the modifications developed to help the Sa'ar 6 with the warmer waters and temperature the ships would be operating in for the IDF. They would have all of the NATO standard weapons, and these corvettes were the size of the average World War 2 destroyer. They would be ready to be handed over four months after the funds were sent.

The pair of ships had made their way halfway around the world with their new crews learning the ropes along the way. Germany was able to clear the slipways and lay down the hulls for two larger Baden-Wurttember-class 7,200 ton frigates. The sale of the two less capable ships had helped fund most of the cost for these improved warships. All in all, the deal was satisfactory for all parties involved.

While those two ships were being finished and worked up with their new crews, the government of Fiji found the only other yard that came even close to meeting their needs. Soon they would have four Irish made Samuel Beckett-class offshore patrol vessels or OPV's in their fleet. These were going to be larger than the German made ships though they did not really match what was needed, but it was all that Fiji could find at the time. At least they were two thousand ton warships, and they were going to be brand new warships. So far, they only had two of the larger ships ready for duty.

No one thought they would be able to stand up to the Chinese blue water navy. They could and had done a bang up job going after illegal fishing ships. Some people to the east of those small islands were not very happy after the fourth or fifth illegal fishing ship was publicly put on display for the world's news services to see.

The governments of Fiji and Tahiti had grown to like the Colonials despite the name they used for themselves that raised so many eyebrows. Every time they had asked for something, the Colonials had come through for them. They were plain spoken, and did not try to strong arm anyone. They would not be pushed around but they were trying to be easy to work with.

In fact, the three small island groups had been trading information among themselves for some time now. The pair made sure that the Colonials knew the patrol operation plans for every ship that they had and what they could find out about the other ships in the area. In return, the Colonials gave them information on ships that were behaving oddly in the other islands' claimed waters. Now the pair gave every bit of information that they could gather about the Chinese operation that strayed anywhere close to their and the Colonials' waters.

They had no idea that the Colonials had this information already, but it was a nice way of showing what side the two island groups were playing on. They also would keep sending notes to the Colonials asking what more they might be able to do to help them. The two other things they had kept saying to the Colonials in those messages was that they could do more once the last two ships finished training its crews and that they were also working on financing for a larger ship.

Once all these were in place, then they could help more in the local area. The pair were looking at a real top of the line warship that could do all the jobs including act as a flagship for their small navies. The command center at the Trading Outpost had always passed along these notes to their commander, and they had gone off planet. Good allies were hard to find and sometimes not always good to have. Especially if they could not defend themselves.

North of these two impoverished island nations, the Japanese were also watching every move that was being made in the whole Pacific Ocean. They had been having their own issues with China over the last decade and half. They had been doing everything they could within their constitution to counter China but they were simply limited by what their society and the post war constitution could let them do at this time. They had done their share of picking on and abusing their neighbors in the recent past.

Their country had also benefited from having these Colonials close by. The first boost had been the dumping of those billions of dollars to the locals, followed by all the trade that had taken place around them. A lot of the trade items were made in Japan or made by Japanese companies. Just the thought of all of those new technologies the Colonials displayed was driving the spending on research and development in Japan as fast as one of their famous bullet trains. When the Chinese started to get more and more hostile to the Colonials, they did not have to think that hard about the future.

The Japanese Self Defense Force reacted even faster than the rest of the world. As the rest of the world would do, they started by building up their defenses at the first news of the aliens. For one of the few times in the country's recent history, the average person was behind this buildup of military strength.

There were very few people in Japan who had not seen a movie that did not show what happened when aliens showed up. It was not rational, but at least it got the ball rolling in the right direction for future needs. Now all the projects that had been planned to counter China were flooded with money and almost as important. The money was joined by the added massive political support.

A lot of important people in Japan did not want China to get their hands on or limit the access to the new ideas the Colonials were causing. So, they knew who they were going to support if the South Pacific turned hot. They already had most of the air-independent propulsion (AIP) submarines deployed to keep an eye on things. Now, to those rotating subsurface ships were about to be added a surface battle force to be a more visible deterrent.

This task force was centered on two of the now four Izumo-class DDH's. One of the baby carriers was filled with ten F-35B's. The second ship was outfitted with helicopters for sub hunting and search and rescue missions. They were escorted by two of the new Maya-class destroyers and two of the four Atago-class destroyers that the JDF had in service. The outer defense line was commanded by a pair of Asahi-class ships. They were to hunt for any subs and they would be supported by four Takanami-class destroyers.

It was a powerful naval force, and one that had been training together for months or in a few cases years. The original idea had been to counter the Chinese navy and air force. They had already been at sea training when they were ordered to go into more southerly waters.

They were not the only forces deployed into that part of the world, and each country that controlled those forces had their own plans. Most of those other countries had four or even five different plans. What plan they publicly or privately went with would depend on how things broke. The dice were in the cups, the darts ready to fly, and almost three quarters of the population on the planet did not know what was in the wind.