We were fighting on the wrong side of a war we couldn’t win. And that was the good news. The Ruhar hit us on Columbus Day. There we were, innocently drifting through the cosmos on our little blue marble, like the Native Americans in 1492. Then, over the horizon came the ships of a technologically advanced, aggressive culture—and bam! There went the good old days, when humans only got killed by one another. So, Columbus Day. It fit. When the morning sky twinkled again, this time with Kristang starships jumping in to hammer the Ruhar, we thought we were saved. The UN Expeditionary Force hitched a ride to fight the Ruhar wherever our new allies thought we could be useful. And I went from fighting with the US Army in Nigeria to fighting in space. But it was lies, all of it. We shouldn’t even be fighting the Ruhar. They aren’t our enemy; our so-called allies are. I guess I’d better start at the beginning . . .