Thrognian Wingleader Bombus Echinops brings his PsiHauler out of hyperspace, and begins routine field preparation of the planet Gelliam. Like several planets before, Gelliam is being cultivated into the Thrognian field-hive.

The first step is straight-forward weed-and-seed -- the native weed species have their thorns removed and are transplanted to productive work farms. Bombus is expecting only nominal use of control measures, as preliminary reports indicate that Gelliam has only modest outbreaks of noxious native weeds. Following protocol, Bombus deploys the entire mower-front and begins the initial round of pruning.

Almost immediately, word comes back from Bladeleader Coleoptera Pueraria that this is a far from routine operation. Gliding around an asteroid, one of Pueraria's tanks comes upon a Xiron Cruiser bearing cdj fleet markings; the cruiser is busy dismantling a native war monk dojo. Following protocol, the tank operator chooses a target and opens fire. In a blazing three-way exchange, the tank, the cruiser, and the monks mutually fire-on and destroy each other.

Sounding full battle alarms, Pueraria orders all armor to fire on remaining non-Thrognian forces, hoping to provide distraction while Wingleader Echinops manuevers the Plymouth Satellite to a safe distance. In perfect order, Bombus maneuvers his ship to the ideal compromise between assault and security, and calls on the armor to blitz the remaining forces, "Spare the civilians, but destroy anything else that moves."

After four chronits and loss of half his armor, the native forces have been pruned of their thorns, but the ceedeejayan forces have not been further diminished. The fate of Gelliam rests heavy on his five surviving tanks, and their commander silently sips at his bulb of nectar, contemplating the best arc for his tanks to advance.

In his hauler, Bombus briefly considers surrendering to cdj, contemplating the gravity of their situation. In his hand is the dispatch from beautiful planet Claire, detailing the border agreement that cdj has signed; clearly stating that Gelliam is in Thrognian space. If the foe can violate a treaty even as its electrons are still pulsing through hyperspace, what chances would he honor a surrender?

E/moting his old friend, Bombus clacks his mandibles in ironic humor, "Coleo, you weed-eating roach, it looks like cdj has the jump on us. Any chance you can get back here and so we can withdraw the Satellite?"

"Bombus, plot and hive ally, you know as well as I that we're both here for the duration. The snake out-guns us though, nearly two-to-one. Shall we yeild?"

"I think not, Coleo, I don't trust this Xiron. I fear we must face him head-on. E/guide your pod. Let's go in on overload, maybe we'll scratch the paint on that cruiser before we're perforated."

"Agreed. And Bombus, pick up my remains and haul them back to Claire. Compost me with my offspring."

"Aye I'll do that, now let's give our all for plot and hive."

"For plot an hive! Bladeleader to pod. Direct all fire on the Xiron. Hovers to full, we're going in."

The five tanks adjust their courses and begin their final approach. The PsiHauler refocuses its beams and adds what energy it can. But the cruiser and support units lay down a withering fire. In moments two tanks are glowing dust and the remaining three are disorganized.

The next chronit is a brief moment of success. A ceedeejayian buggy bogs down; the Plymouth Satellite moves in and guts the helpless craft. But the following chronit brings bitter pain. Bladeleader Pueraria watches as the cruiser rolls and brings gun after gun to bare on the PsiHauler. In a heart-rending display of fire and blast, he watches as his one friend's pride and joy becomes an expanding cloud of ions. He sits, barely aware that one of his pod is also destroyed in an almost casual burst from a nearly spent cannon.

Two TK Tanks remain against a Xiron Medium Cruiser and a not insignificant Boron Recon Buggy. E/noise so bad, he can't be sure his remaining podmate can hear him, Coleoptera Pueraria calls for a pinch-manuever on the buggy; then watches as his podmate hovers straight at the cruiser.

Perhaps the cruiser was monitoring his e/mote and fired where the tank should have been. Perhaps a spent fueltank exploded and distracted his targeter. Perhaps the great spidervine reached in and shielded the young Guir. Perhaps the blind gods of luck dipped their talons into the wrong bag of dice. Whatever the cause, the tank slips under the devastating fire and punctures the reactor-core of the cruiser. In a stunning shockwave, both tanks are tossed back as the second cruiser ceases to be.

Following their undeserved good fortune with more of the same, Pueraria clips the remaining buggy and watches as its air-dome explodes; bringing the battle to a sudden end.

As the e/noise clears and communications return, Bladeleader Pueraria commends his new podwarden, and files another successful weed-and-seed report with planet Claire. He then switches to sleep mode and lets the psionic autodoc begin the delicate job of rebuilding his broken psyche, while he waits for new transport to come.