Alien Empire

by Anthony Gillis

  “Ha! Groundling, we are crewman just like the Elders.”

  “Why do you serve them?” asked Tayyis.

  “Serve? All serve, the Elders too serve. Duty, honor, and enlightenment!”

  Tayyis continued, “But didn’t your people have to fight a war against them?”

  The Ara’kaa leader, if that was what he was, fixed her with his fierce-looking eyes. “That war, the big mistake…” and here he carefully swept his gaze across the other Ara’kaa, who stood sullenly quiet, “was more than three thousand standard years ago. We don’t live in the ancient past.”

  Karden, watching them, wasn’t so sure they all agreed with the one who was speaking.

  “And what do you do on board this ship?” he asked.

  “Many different things. Most of us are maintenance technicians or cleaners, some are gunners, and a few” here he gestured to the two standing nearby, “are officers!”

  Karden had seen a lot of Elder officers at this point, and the uniforms of those three fixed them as very junior ones. He pursued his line of thought. “And are there any Ara’kaa captains or admirals?”

  “A few captains, and soon there will be an admiral!” the Ara’kaa replied, and at that, even the more sullen of his kind stood up with what might be pride.

  Karden eyed them, surprised.

  Perhaps sensing his confusion, the Ara’kaa officer spoke again, “It takes time to earn trust, Groundling.”

  Karden thought that three thousand years was time enough, but refrained from saying so. The defiant attitude of the officers, and the tense silence of the others, convinced him he’d get nothing useful out of them yet.

  He turned to the tall red aliens, who unlike the others, each wore individually varied and multicolored clothing.

  “And you are the Imri, the free traders, if I understand?”

  “We are Imri,” answered one of the four, “but we four here are not free traders. We are logistical liaisons tasked with interacting with free traders should it be necessary to purchase supplies beyond regular share quotas.”

  “And why would that be necessary?” asked Karden, thinking he might already know the answer.

  “The official transport system is… admirable for its sense of duty. Occasionally there are supply shortfalls. Some matters are best discussed under conditions of trust. I am Imni Ilyar Mneoniri. You may call me Ilyar. Since you know doubt wonder, I am a man. But what shall I call you?”

  Karden, Tayyis, and the others made introductions.

  “Perhaps then,” said Ilyar, “we may meet again under other circumstances. As your prisoners, we hope that you will treat us well.”

  And with that, he and his peers sat down to quietly confer among themselves, in a language other than Elder.

  It occurred to Karden that, with armed soldiers more or less under his command, he might order these prisoners to speak, but that wasn’t his way. They would face questions enough from others, and in time, with decent treatment, some of them might open up on their own.

  Tayyis, meanwhile, turned to the last, unknown aliens. They were all dressed in simple pale-colored clothes that were of a pattern distinctly different from Elder military uniforms.

  “I don’t know who among you speaks for the others, if anyone, but we have no idea who you are, and are curious. It is an honor to meet you.”

  The bronze-skinned folk whispered in soft voices to each other. Finally one stepped forward. It bowed its head to her in the Elder form of salute to one of higher rank.

  “I am Assistant Smith, Linguist Lyr. We are Laderathai.”

  Tayyis looked at Smith with interest. “Smith is an Elder name, does your use of it have a special meaning?”

  “No, Linguist Lyr. We Laderathai all have the honor of bearing Elder names, since long ago, in the times when the Elders found us and lifted us up from the darkness.”

  Karden’s curiosity was stirred, “Assistant, what is it you do on this ship, for the Elders?”

  “We serve, Historian Professor Karden. We bring food, we help great ones with the small but tiresome tasks of life. We ease their burdens of duty as we can. We serve, as we have for ages beyond count.”

  “Do you know how many years it has been, Assistant Smith?” asked Karden.

  “I do not know, Historian Professor Karden, but it is said we Laderathai had the honor of being the first people the Elders invited to join them among the stars.”

  Tayyis whispered to him in Tadine, “Haral, I think building trust with those in this room, at least some of them, is a good task for me. They might be more open than the Elders.”

  Karden processed what he’d heard and seen.

  Something about it all reminded him of the native auxiliary troops the southern nations had used in the heyday of their empires. However, instead of being segregated by unit, they were segregated by function.

  The Ara’kaa, at least these here, were in the Elder military, but they seemed mostly relegated to support duties and the lower ranks. The Imri had been confined to private trade, which was no doubt useful since the Elder interstellar system was otherwise one vast government monopoly, and the Laderathai, after thousands of years, were domestic servants.

  In another sense, he realized, it resembled the caste systems of certain ancient cultures on the Eastern Continent. And yet, these three species, three groups of people, were more integrated than the Grounders would have been. His people would have become a docile supply source, kept isolated and ignorant of anything but what the Elders wanted them to know.

  And what had the Elders themselves become? A grim aristocratic caste, driven, so far as he could tell, by fatalism, duty, and service to the state. They wielded more power, but were they any more free?

  His resolve hardened. His resolve for the mad colossal task of overthrowing the system that kept them all, even the Elders themselves, as they were, in chains of varied rings.

  32

  The top floor suite of Republic Tower was two full stories high, with a sweeping balcony along the upper tier, widening over the bedrooms to a conference area. A panoramic view of the sprawling coastal Tadine city of Delta lay below.

  In comfortable chairs around the conference table sat Karden, Tayyis, Neem, Jat, Viris and Harker. It was their first time all together since Karden’s beach house, in what seemed like another age of the world. They had fresh meals before them, and cool refreshing drinks.

  Harker was expansive, “That was some amazing work there in Bacchara! What a fight. I’m no military man, but I think it was genius. Pulling in the Elder fighters like that, knocking out the bridge, then capturing that ship! You’re making me think we have a fighting chance.”

  “It was a near thing,” said Karden, “we lost four hundred aircraft and a lot of good people on the ground trying to deal with one Warden Ship. There aren’t enough aircraft in the world to sustain those kinds of losses when the Elders come back.”

  “That’s why we’re already ramping up!” replied Harker, “I’ve got almost every manufacturer in Tadine with the program now, and others overseas are starting to sign up. Lots more will come once you bunch, the heroes of the Battle of Bacchara, put in the right word.”

  Heroes? Thought Karden. That was a strange way to put it. They’d done what they had to.

  “There’s more!” continued Harker, “Wimier’s been getting the politicians in line. Drinen might be President of Tadine now, but Wimier’s the one people go to if they want to get things done.”

  Then he paused, considered, looked at the others, and especially Karden. “But he needs your help, just like I do. You may have no idea how much weight your word carries now, but it does. Use it well.”

  Tayyis joined in, “In fact, we’ve got the makings of an Elder language training school started, and with funding thanks to you Pavol, it should scale up quickly.”

  “And my friends and I are getting information from our pirated galactic map and the computer systems of the Vigilant out on the nets as fast as
Tayyis and her people can translate it!” added Viris.

  Neem couldn’t restrain himself. “I’ve already got plans ready for the production models of our railguns, along with the first batch of lasers and I’ve got a team working on the prototype for the MSSA-2. If we can get them ramped up into production…”

  “Be glad they were able to rescue Air Colonel Varen,” said Karden, “He’s Brigadier now, and with Sellis the new Air Marshal, I’ve heard he’s got another promotion in the works. You’ll want him for the training program, and more, when the next attack comes.”

  “But the best part,” rejoined Neem, “is we’ve got lots of working examples of Elder technology to play with now. We can’t match everything they do, but the MSSA-2 will incorporate a lot of design improvements courtesy of the Elders.”

  Jat cut in, “Energy shields are still a mystery. Can see the generating equipment, take it apart, put it back together, mostly, but just can’t figure out how it works. We’ll get it eventually.”

  “On the other hand, the stardrive…” started Neem.

  “I know what was missing now,” interrupted Jat, “In a few months, we can have a working copy.”

  “So,” said Karden, “You mean that we could, with sufficient power to run it, build a working starship, a starship of our own?”

  “Yes!” replied Jat, with a bit of his old impish confidence back.

  There was a pause in the room at that.

  “We’ve got power, everybody!” added Harker with a grin, “All those generators the Elders gave us still work. Too bad their transport ship got away. There were more still aboard.”

  “Speaking of,” said Jat, “With the transport gone, navigation on the Vigilant destroyed, be glad our galactic map is definitely a stripped down version of the one that was on the ship.”

  “Which is still pretty cool,” said Neem, “and enough to learn from and navigate by, so long as we keep to the Elder’s main known systems.”

  “How many is that?” asked Karden.

  “Only a billion or so,” said Neem. The non-scientists gasped or looked surprised.

  “The galaxy is a big place,” said Jat. “Nearly three hundred billion stars. Most are dim red dwarfs but still plenty that could have habitable planets.”

  Tayyis added, “I’ve been going through the galactic map, with help from a lot of friends. Even the Elders aren’t sure how many worlds there are with life. They estimate as many seven or eight billion. They’re still exploring, though it seems fairly slowly these days.”

  “We’re learning quite a bit about the galaxy,” she continued, “I hope we have time to make use of that knowledge.”

  Neem joined in, “The Elders have a huge battle fleet. They have the galaxy divided into one hundred and eighty sectors around the rim, and one in the galactic core. Each Sector has twenty Warden Ships, and they maintain a reserve at their capital, their homeworld Earth. In total it is over six and a half thousand warships.”

  “I know they are a bunch of slagging murderers and tyrants,” interjected Viris, surprise on her active face, “but WHY do they need to keep such a huge fleet if they haven’t had a real war in three thousand years, and nobody else even has warships?”

  Jat and Karden looked at each other.

  “Remember what I mentioned about the galaxy,” said Jat, “that many ships means one per fifty million stars”

  “Or,” added Karden, “if we use the Elder’s number of about eight hundred fifty thousand known worlds with sentient life, it would be one Warden Ship per one hundred thirty worlds. Looked at another way, it is one ship per fifty billion inhabitants.”

  “Though what’s a billion between friends?” quipped Jat,

  If Karden was amused, he didn’t show it. He went on,

  “Since each Warden Ship has around ten thousand crew and company, there are about sixty-six million total in shipboard service. We’ve made vague estimates of another three hundred and forty million or so ground and support troops. It might sound like a lot, but in fact it means than only one in about six thousand Elders serves, and a far smaller number for the overall population. Comparable figures for Grounder nations average around one in a hundred.”

  “While in wartime,” he continued, “we’ve had as much as five to ten percent under arms. In short, the Elder military is not actually all that intensive for them to maintain, give the scale of the resources they can draw on.”

  Viris listened to all of this thoughtfully, and her face lit up. “It also means, that if we can liberate the serfs, we could throw a lot more at them than they’re going to be able to handle in the short run. Karden, every once in a while, your insane plan almost starts to make sense!”

  “Its sheer improbability, or rather, unexpectedness, is one of the few things that give us a chance,” replied Karden. “We can’t hope to win in direct war, us against the galaxy. But the Elders are playing by rules they’ve used for a long time. Changing the rules in ways they don’t expect, adapting more quickly than they do, give us an edge.”

  Viris was getting excited, “We’ve got to get the word out! Just like we did here! I bet a lot of people in the galaxy are happy little herd animals and have no idea about Retrogression and what the Elders really do when crossed!”

  “I’d imagine even most Elders don’t know about it,” added Karden, “but, getting the word out won’t be so simple. Jat...?”

  Jat began, “Their interstellar nets aren’t like our planetary one. The satellites are complete chokepoints, and can be instructed to censor or block things. They’re all government run. We’re already cut off from signals into this system.”

  “So we just have to find out how to hack the satellites so well we get control of them!” replied Viris.

  “Or bypass the system entirely,” mused Karden.

  “Everyone,” interjected Harker, “We have a lot of great news and good ideas, but time’s against us. How far away is the base where the fleet originally came from?”

  Tayyis thought for a moment. “According to the map, twelve or so of our days by wormhole. We’re in Sector 104, and the fleet is at the sector capital, it’s called Malachite.”

  “And the signals?” asked Harker.

  “Presuming they move at the speed of light in the local space of the wormholes, a bit under twenty-nine hours,” said Jat.

  “So potentially,” continued Harker, “A lot of our ideas right now are more like wishful hopes for the future, if we make it. If they are in a hurry, we could have a lot bigger battle than Bacchara on our hands any time now.”

  And so began frantic preparation around the world. Others who saw parts of the galactic map, and the wealth of information incorporated into it, started to do the same calculations. Word spread quickly around the nets that the Elders might be back in days.

  The people of ground worked, and watched, and waited. The days passed, then weeks, and then months, but still the Elders did not come.

  33

  A galactic standard day or so after the battle of Bacchara, in a spacious elegant office on board a kilometers-wide starbase orbiting the fertile Elder world known as Malachite, Sector Admiral Arslanian reviewed a disturbing pair of messages.

  The first was a report on severe setbacks faced by the System 104-01.779.100.412 First Contact Mission, including the loss of Ambassador Margaux, countersigned by Deputy Ambassador Hsien and Warden Ship Captain Fitzgerald of the Vigilant. The report was accompanied by a request for reinforcements.

  The second was a hastily dispatched distress message from Deputy Ambassador Hsien reporting the imminent capture of the Vigilant and his own expected death or capture. The circumstances of the second message meant the end of the First Contact Mission itself. He prepared a missive of his own.

  ///

  Sector 104 Squadron Command

  To Military High Command

  Fleet Admiral Katiyar

  It is with great regret that I must inform you of the failure of the System 104-01.779.100.412 F
irst Contact Mission, loss of Warden Ship 02433, Vigilant, confirmed death of Warden Ship Captain Fitzgerald, commanding, and probable loss of entire diplomatic command staff.

  Sector diplomatic staff are preparing separate notification for Diplomatic Central Directorate.

  Detailed situation analysis is attached. However two items merit special mention.

  First, indigenous leadership successfully decrypted and gained access to our communication systems, for which I find only eight comparable examples in available records dating to establishment of current communication network standards c.9400 ESD

  Second, indigenous forces captured an estimated thirty shuttles of various classes, and used them for a successful boarding action against the Vigilant. Last confirmed boarding action against a fleet warship was 8860/03/02 ESD during the Ara’kaa war, and that was against a vessel with crew already almost entirely dead or disabled.

  Request reversion to military command, and authorization to draw on detachments from sector squadrons for sectors 97, 98, 100, 101, 103, 106, 107, 109 and 110 for counterattack to neutralize hostile forces in system prior to further diplomatic efforts.

  It is the opinion of Sector diplomatic staff that pre-authorization for Level One Retrogression given to Ambassador Margaux, who headed the mission, lapsed with the capture or death of both himself and his Deputy. In any case, I defer decision regarding Retrogression to DCD, as it is a purely diplomatic matter.

  Investigation into conduct of Warden Ship Captain Fitzgerald will be carried out as per procedure, but his prior record to date was in accordance with the highest standards of the fleet. I honor his memory.

  With Honor. For Enlightenment.

  Sector Admiral Arslanian

  11,995/05/21 ESD

  ///

  Karden, Harker, and Wimier were flying over the ruins of the International Zone in an Elder shuttle.