Commander Derek sat in the blackened room, carefully studying the subspace surveillance photos being relayed to him. "Home in on 350/150," he ordered the computer. "Engage MMO search."

And there it was on the screen that floated in front of him. In all its bloody glory. He took his time, letting each of the pictures etch itself into his mind. The satellite probe had just circled Phonus II once, but already he knew he had the critical data that would legalize his actions. "Store and relay back to Earth. Confirm receipt." They'll need to have those photos to justify what I'm about to do.

"Photos received," the computer whispered in his mind.

"Prepare the troops. We're headed in."

Calling those he commanded "troops" was using the term loosely. They were machines designed for killing as they circled a planet. There were only five humans aboard the entire fleet he commanded, and he was the only combatant.

"You need a human on board so they'll have someone to blame if the machines screw up," was what his instructor had jokingly said at the academy. But the teacher hadn't smiled and the students hadn't laughed. Too much truth in the statement.

There wouldn't be any screw-ups this time. With the photos of the half-eaten colonists still haunting the depths of his mind, he knew anyone seeing what he'd sent back would be willing to justify any actions he took. Even lightning war.

And that was just what he'd give the 'sects on the planet his fleet was headed for.

"Three minutes until de-drive," the computer warned.

"Command order: We'll go in with blaze," he grimly told his computer which relayed his message to the fifty automated hyperships around him. "Lightning War. Fullscorch."

"Confirm order please: Command is lightning, full scorch."

"Lightning, full scorch confirmed."

************************************************************************************************

There was a rattle through the deck below him as the ship automatically maneuvered for the transfer to sub-light speed. Then the high pitched hum of the weapons bays coming online.

"Full monitor," Derek ordered. Instantly the dark room he sat in was surrounded by light, as if he floated in space encircled by the sleek ships around him. There was a rainbow of light and then they were through the hyper-space barrier. Below his feet was the blue and green globe, lush with life. "Fire at will."

For six seconds the ships fired, guns flashing until the hulls glowed a dull red, the power beams slashing like lightning through the atmosphere of the planet. The Phonusians most likely never had time to react since their communications and weapons systems were knocked out during the first milliseconds of the battle, the computerized systems on the ships circling them working from the satellite photos that had been relayed back minutes before.

After that, the ships methodically hunted down and killed each of the insect-like creatures on the surface below.

Derek knew what was happening but all that registered with his slow nervous system was one massive flash of light; the human mind was unable to follow the numbing speed of the attack on the planet below. It seemed that they had only just comeout of hyper-space. Yet the battle was over, the enemies below, slaughtered.

"Mission completed," his computer whispered.

Derek closed his eyes. "Total enemy kills?"

"One million, forty-three thousand, two hundred fifty-six."

Derek remained silent a moment. "Time for the most important part," he said. "Take the actors out of the frige."

************************************************************************************************

Derek waded ashore, wondering how the machines that were capable of the pinpoint accuracy needed to wipe out over a million sentient creatures in just six seconds could manage to miss the beach, putting them into nearly three feet of warm ocean water.

"This is great," the cameraman beside him yelled over the noise of the surf. "We couldn't have planned it better. The actors can wade ashore just like in the old newsreels ?nbsp;they'll love this back home. Let me set up the camera on the beach and I'll be ready for the 'troops'."

"No big hurry," Derek said, staring at the charred exoskeleton that floated in the waves thirty meters from him. For a moment he felt pity, then remembered the hostages that had been half-eaten, their arms and legs missing, their faces twisted into gruesome death masks. "Believe in it," he told himself, closing his eyes.

"It happened. They did it. You were justified in ordering the attack."

But perhaps the Phonusians hadn't known what they were doing. Or perhaps they'd done it to send a message to future trespassers. It didn't make any difference to Derek. Anything or anyone that tortured prisoners deserved to die.

Wait, had it really happened? He felt confused, old doubts resurfacing. He shook his head. It was about time for him to return to the programming for -----

"I'm ready," the cameraman called, breaking into Derek's thoughts.

"Computer," Derek ordered. "Send out the landing party."

The large cargo door at the side of the lander hissed opened and three men in battle gear splashed ashore, surrounded by battle bots and tracked vehicles. As they advanced, the fake guns they held discharged smoke and empty cartridges while the machines around them belched fire. Within minutes the men and mechanicals wereashore, racing past the camera.

"That's it," the cameraman yelled.

The machines and men came to a halt. The mechanicals returned to the cargo bay and stowed themselves, the actors huddled around the camera to check the replay of the scene.

"Are we ready to go?" Derek asked.

The cameraman studied the display on his equipment a moment and then spoke. "It's a wrap. All the stuff we need to create a computerized mass invasion of the beach."

"Right," Derek said. He'd seen it all before. The computers took the images, created variations of the actors and machines that had been filmed, and then reassembled them into an entire army.

When the people back home saw the scene, they'd watch thousands of troops jump into the surf from a hundred ships. Some would be cut down by enemy power beams; some would make it to shore and engage the enemy. The photos of the surveillance satellite would be added, creating in-orbit pictures of the enemy being destroyed by the landing party.

Eventually, after virtual days of heavy fighting in the shadow war created by the computers, the insect-like foes would be defeated by the invading humans. Then,according to the script, the Phonusians would commit suicide on a massive scale,leaving the planet open to another wave of Earth settlers.

When the protesters back on Earth raised any objections, the photos of the slaughtered colonists would be released. Those who managed to keep their last meal down would be talking about how the Phonusians deserved everything they got after that.

"Let's load up," Derek told the cameraman and his actors that huddled around the screen, watching the replay of their landing. He turned and wadded back toward the lander.

"Don't you want to look around?" one of the new actors asked. "This is the most beautiful piece of real estate I've ever seen."

Derek said nothing.

"Don't be silly," the cameraman said. "We've got three more planets to hit before evening."

Derek wondered how many they'd kill by the end of the day. Again he felt the twinge of conscience and nearly stumbled in the surf. It was time to take action. "Computer," he said softly.

"Yes, commander?"

"Prepare the next set of fake photos of slaughtered colonists. And alert commandcomm that my programming seems to be failing. I'm having trouble believing we're justified in what we're doing."

"I have already alerted them. I suspected you were having problems. Can you continue the mission?"

"No problem," he answered grimmly. To a good commander, what were a few million more deaths?

Especially when they already had the photos ready to justify his actions.

指挥官德里克坐在漆黑一团的房间里，仔细研究着传送来的子空间侦察照片。“锁定350/150区域，进行MMO搜索，”他对计算机命令道。

悬浮在他面前的屏幕立时就锁定了目标区域。血流成河。德里克从容镇定地将每一张图片都铭记在心。卫星探测器刚刚环绕福纳斯二号星球一周，而他其实早已清楚自己手中已经掌握了使此次行动合法化的关键资料。“保存，传回地球。收到后确认。” 要让他们认可我将要采取的行动，得把那些照片给他们看看。

“照片收到，”电脑悄悄地提醒他。

“集结部队。我们出发。”

把自己指挥的那些东西称为“部队”，这个称呼用得不甚严谨。“部队”是环绕星球飞行的杀人机器。他指挥的整个舰队只有五个人，战斗人员只有他一人。

“你得找个人呆在上面，这样一旦机器搞砸了，他们也好有个人怪罪，”他的导师在科学院里开玩笑地说。但是，师生们谁都没有笑。这句话太对了。

这次怎么也不会搞砸。 拓居者们被吃得残缺不全的照片依旧在他脑海深处徘徊，他知道任何看过自己传回的图片的人，都会认可自己采取的任何行动。哪怕是闪电战。

而闪电战正是他要给舰队所前往的星球上的虫子们的打击。

“三分钟后出击，”电脑提醒道。

“指令：闪电进攻，”他冷冷地对电脑说道，电脑将指令传达给他周围的五十艘超级自动飞船。“闪电战。烧光一切。”

“请确认指令：指令是闪电战，烧光一切。”

“闪电战，烧光一切，确认完毕。”

************************************************************************************************

飞船自动调整到亚光速时，他下面的甲板发出了格格的响声。接着就是武器舱尖利的连接声。

“全面监控，”德里克命令道。刚才漆黑一片的房间顿时被光亮环绕，他仿佛漂浮在为闪亮的飞船所包围的空间。一道彩虹似的光闪过之后，他们就穿越了超空间壁垒。他的脚下是蓝绿掩映的星球，生机盎然。“任意射击。”

飞船持续开火六秒钟，炮火闪耀，炮身都烧成了暗红色，能量束犹如道道闪电划破了星球的大气层。福纳斯人很可能根本就没有时间做出反应，因为他们的通讯和武器系统在战争刚开始那一毫秒就被彻底摧毁了。飞船将他们团团包围，计算机化的系统根据几分钟前传回的卫星照片运行着。

而后，飞船有条不紊地追逐并杀死了底下的星球表面每一个虫子似的生命。

德里克明白正在发生的一切，但是他缓慢的神经系统所了解到的只是一次炽烈的闪光而已；对子空间发起的攻击疾如闪电，令人无从察觉。他们好像才刚刚穿出超空间——但是战斗已经结束，下面的敌人，已被屠杀殆尽。

“任务完毕，”电脑悄声说道。

德里克闭上了眼睛，“杀死敌人总数？”

“一百零四万三千二百五十六人。”

德里克保持了片刻的沉默。“该干最重要的事了，把演员从冰箱里拿出来。”他说道。

************************************************************************************************

德里克涉水上了岸，弄不清这些能在六秒之内精确歼灭一百万生灵的机器，怎么会没发现海岸，害得他们掉进近三英尺深的温暖的海水里。

“好极了，”身后的摄像师透过海浪的咆哮喊道。“比我们原先设计得要好。演员可以像老新闻片里那样涉水上岸。这很对家里那些人的胃口。来，我在岸上架好摄像机，做好拍摄‘部队’的准备。”

“先别急，”德里克说道，紧紧盯着30米外的海浪中漂浮着的烧焦的骨头。他心中涌起一阵同情，但接着又想起了那些被吃的人质，想起他们缺胳膊断腿、面部扭曲惨不忍睹的样子。“别怀疑了，”他告诫自己，闭上眼睛，“是他们干的，千真万确。你下命令进攻是完全应该的。”

但是，也许福纳斯人当初并不明白自己的行为会有什么后果？或许，他们那样做只是想警告未来的入侵者？但是这些猜测对德里克来说毫无意义。折磨俘虏就该死。

等等，这一切真的发生过吗？先前的种种疑虑再次涌上心头，德里克感到茫然。他摇了摇头。现在该拍片子了——

“准备好了，”摄像师的喊声打断了他的思绪。

“电脑，”德里克命令道，“派出登陆队。”

登陆器侧边的货舱门吱嘎一声打开，全副武装的三个人 着水向岸边奔来，周围是机器人战士和履带式战车。行进中，他们手中的仿真枪一边吐着空弹壳，枪口冒着白烟，周围的机器装置则喷射着火焰。几分钟之内，这些人和机器装置就上了岸，从摄像机镜头前飞奔而过。

“行了！”摄像师大喊。

人和机器装置都停了下来。机器装置回到货舱呆着，演员们则挤作一团，围着摄像机看刚才拍摄的镜头。

“我们可以走了吗？” 德里克问道。

摄像师仔细看了看摄像机中的画面，然后说，“完成了。用计算机制作大举进攻海滩所需的一切都搞定了。”

“好，” 德里克应道。这一切他以前都见过。先把人和机器的形象输入计算机，计算机再根据这些形象制作大量不同的新形象，重组成一支完整的军队。

地球上的人们看到战斗场面时，他们将看到成千上万的军队从一艘艘战舰上跃入激流之中。有的会被敌人的能量束击倒；有的会冲上海岸与敌人短兵相接。再配上侦察卫星拍摄的照片，就会形成一幅幅敌人被登陆部队歼灭的画面。最后，在计算机所创造的假想战争中，经过虚拟的数天鏖战，虫子般的敌人将被前来进攻的人类打败。接着，按照剧本的编排，大批福纳斯人将自杀身亡。从此，这个星球就可以接纳蜂拥而至的新一批地球移民。

届时，如果地球上有人表示抗议，就把先期拓居者遭受屠杀的照片公布出来。看到照片的人即使忍着不呕吐，也会认为福纳斯人罪有应得。

“我们上登陆器吧，”德里克对摄像师和演员们说道。演员们正挤在摄影机屏幕周围，看自己登陆时的回放镜头。德里克转身， 着水向登陆器走去。

“你不想看看周围的景色吗？”一个新演员问德里克。“这是我有生以来见过的最美丽的一处房产。”

德里克没有答腔。

“别傻了，”摄像师接过话茬儿，“天黑前我们还要干掉三个星球。”

德里克心里盘算着，今天一共会消灭多少外星人。又一阵内疚涌上心头，他差点跌倒在海浪中。该采取行动了。“电脑，”他轻声叫道。

“长官，有何吩咐？”

“仿造下一批拓居者被屠杀的照片。通知总部，我的程序好像出了点问题。我开始无法坚信我们的行动是合理的了。”

“我猜你就遇到了问题，已经通知过了。是否继续执行任务？”

“没问题，” 德里克坚定地回答。对一个优秀的指挥官而言，再死几百万人又有什么要紧？特别是在此时，手中的照片可随时证明自己的行动合情合理。