by Dennis Young
Mitchell chose his words carefully. “Commander, are you up to this? Your combat experience is… minimal.”
A pause followed. “Captain, Julia Trachenberg has never stood from a challenge. I don’t plan to now.”
“Understood, but we’re likely to see heavy action, and with the new AI fighters, this situation calls for experience.” Mitchell looked to his XO, Franklin Allard. “I could send my First Officer to assist.”
“Thank you, sir, but I have seasoned veterans on board. Armstrong is in good hands.”
Mitchell nodded and glanced at Allard again, who shrugged. “Her ship, her crew,” Allard said.
“Very well, Commander. Vid conference in two hours, all department heads and seconds. Patch in from your duty stations, secure channels only.”
“Aye, sir. We’ll speak again then. Armstrong out.”
Mitchell clicked the communicator button. “You had something else to say?”
“Hell of a thing to happen when the Qoearc are in the neighborhood.”
Mitchell nodded. “Just be ready if we have to do something drastic. Trachenberg is a good officer, great tactician, but little experience.” He grinned. “You’ve been shot at plenty and know when to duck.”
“But sometimes you have to be shot at a few times to learn.”
“We’ll leave it as it is. See to auxiliary control and meet me in the briefing room for the conference in two hours.” Mitchell looked to the Science station and the Arnec male standing quietly there. “Commander Tyvaos, you have the con. I’ll be in Engineering.”
“Aye, sir. Any particular orders for the time?”
Mitchell looked to Allard once more. “Yell if you see Qoearc.”
* * *
The briefing room was crowded with department heads, air wing personnel, and the executive staff. The other ship commanders were patched in via vid and audio to the conference.
Mitchell took his place at one end of the conference table. “Mr. Tyvaos, you may begin.”
The Arnec nodded and the wall screen lit. “The dossier regarding the Harmonian system was distributed before we departed Fleet Base Twenty-four. I will summarize.”
The screen changed to a graphic of Harmony’s star and its planets. “Harmony was colonized two hundred and fifty years ago, and is considered one of the best examples of success in the Outward Presence Movement. The system consists of three gas giants, a large ring of asteroid debris, and Harmony, the inner inhabited planet. Technology level is late twenty-third century Earth except for energy sources, which are approximately one hundred years behind current Earth Alliance standard. The planetary government has a small fleet of short-range spacecraft, three unmanned and one crewed orbital station for protection from near-planet asteroids, and several scores of satellites. World population is approximately one hundred fifty million, the majority Earth human.”
“Move on to your recent findings, Commander,” said Mitchell. He knew the Science Officer would continue with details until shift change, if allowed.
“Yes, sir.” The scene on the viewscreen changed to a close-up of Harmony. “Recent scans have indicated two of the unmanned stations have been destroyed. The third is no longer in orbit, and debris tracking indicates it was likely deliberately crippled, breaking up and falling into several inhabited areas. Casualties were likely high.”
A murmur made its way around the table until Mitchell cut it off with a glance. He nodded Tyvaos to continue.
“The crewed station shows an unidentified small craft nearby and two in docking ports.” Tyvaos paused and looked to Mitchell. “There is also a Qoearc capital ship in close orbit, standing off less than one hundred kilometers from the station.”
“Information on this ship?” asked Allard, sitting quietly beside the captain.
The screen changed again, showing a grainy picture of a Qoearc vessel, looking much as the well-known Cotak class, but with the impression of being larger and more imposing. Tyvaos continued. “Recent Earth Alliance data indicates this is a new class vessel, Vrex in name, and a substantial improvement from the standard Cotak. This appears not to be an upgrade, but a new ship entirely.”
The screen dissolved to a graphic of the Qoearc ship; the bulbous central hull, numerous control domes and weapon emplacements, and the garish markings that could not be mistaken for anything other than Qoearc.
“Retains the basic outward appearance of the Cotak,” said Satoshi Higu, the Chief Engineer. “Clever disguise, in plain sight.” He glanced to Mitchell, who raised an eyebrow. “First glance, it looks like the Cotak. Until it blows you up.”
Again, soft comments made their way within the room.
“What else, Commander?” Mitchell shifted in his seat.
“Details of the inhabitants themselves, Captain, and their culture, if I may.”
The screen graphic was replaced by pictures of an official-looking building of classic Earth design and a large crowd of people. “The Harmonians are a pacifistic society. The original colonists left Earth over a period of twenty years, financed by their own organization. All those allowed to join their movement were required to sign declarations of non-violence, to extend no less than ten generations forward of each family.
“War is unknown on their world, as negotiations in times of strife have been taken to a master level. The world court is the final say. Weapons are not allowed to be personally owned, and even local security forces do not carry more than what was once called a ‘night-stick’ on Earth.”
“Religious tenets?” Lieutenant Rashim raised the question from aside. Mitchell smiled at the perception.
“Cultural,” replied Tyvaos. “Though several religions are present in their society, none addresses this philosophy in depth, only as a general teaching.”
“Much then as my people,” replied Rashim. “On my world, Nelphian culture changed once we accepted that we would destroy ourselves if we did not alter our ways. Though it took more than two centuries and many lives, at last we learned to live together.” He looked to Mitchell, listening closely. “Perhaps, should opportunity arise, I may visit these people and learn of their ways and how they compare to ours.”
“A hope we all share,” said Mitchell, nodding. “What else, Commander Tyvaos?”
“More detail, Captain, but nothing that is not included in the dossier. I recommend all hands review whatever section is relevant to their department.”
“Thank you. Tactical, what have you learned about this… Vrex war cruiser?” Mitchell motioned Lieutenant Neunada to the screen as Tyvaos took a seat.
The viewer again showed the Qoearc ship graphic. “As noted, this ship is much larger than the Cotak and carries heavy weapons. The mass drivers are nearly four meters in diameter, and the yield estimated to be more than triple standard Earth Alliance Class A torpedoes. In essence, a single shot could penetrate our hull, if hit squarely. Phased discharge emitter emplacements are found on the ship’s flanks, along with secondary weapons, high-energy lasers and the like.”
Silence lay about the room for a long moment. Neunada continued after an awkward pause. “There are two other ships of this type in high orbit around the planet, one polar, the other in synchronous orbit above a large city. We surmise surrender terms have already been delivered to the government.”
“Captain, we’ve been butting heads with the Qoearc for over a hundred years,” said the XO Allard. “Earthfleet has always had the tactical advantage. But this…” He motioned to the images on the screen.
Mitchell considered. Fleet Base Twenty-four needs to be notified immediately. See to it.”
Allard nodded and turned to speak quietly to Rashim at his side.
“But who sent the distress hail?” Julia Trachenberg on board Armstrong spoke from the intercom. “If this society is pacifistic, who sent the message to Fleet Base Twenty-four?”
“Unknown, Commander,” replied Tyvaos, receiving a nod from Mitchell. “We may never know unless we learn from the Harmonians themse
lves.”
“Might we negotiate a settlement?” asked Rashim, looking to the captain. “I am certain the Nelphian Elders would provide diplomats who are familiar with Qoearc culture and methods.”
“These are Qoearc,” came Trachenberg’s reply from the speaker. “They seldom negotiate.”
“Seldom is not never, Commander.”
“Lieutenant Rashim’s point is taken,” said Mitchell, in a tone indicating the matter closed. “We’ll examine all possible solutions.”
“Yes, sir.” Trachenberg’s voice conveyed distaste.
“Here is the current plan,” Mitchell continued. “We will hail the Qoearc, advise them the system is under Earth Alliance protectorate, and demand they immediately withdraw. In the meantime, we’ll advise Fleet Base Twenty-four of everything we know and have them request a meeting with the Qoearc ambassador there, to voice our… displeasure in these events, and arrange a conference.”
“Sir, if I may.” Rashim’s soft voice drew Mitchell’s attention. He nodded. “Since we see no specific hostile action taking place at this time, I would surmise the Harmonians, if master negotiators, are currently in deep counsel with the Qoearc, attempting a solution. Should we not contact their government first and announce our presence and intentions?”
Mitchell considered, passed a glance to Allard, who pursed his lips in agreement, then to Tyvaos.
“A logical step, Captain,” said the Arnec. “However, I would recommend contact with the Harmonians be discrete.”
Mitchell nodded once again. “Very well. Mr. Rashim, you will assist Sciences in preparing secure contact. In the meantime, the squadron will hold station for…” he glanced at the chronometer on the screen display. “Twenty-four standard hours. However, my orders are to provide whatever assistance is necessary, in those exact words. I don’t have to tell you what this might mean. That’s why we’re here as a squadron.”
He looked around the room, his gaze finally settling on Denise Straum, the commandant of the fighter wing on board Burlingame. “Commander, schedule a briefing with your pilots and the AI fighter liaison in two hours. I want to know what our options are and your tactical plan. Captains on Marshall and Armstrong, same thing. Commander Straum will be overall in charge of the fighter wings.” His eyes drifted around the room once more. “Questions? Alright, dismissed. Commander Straum, I need a quick word with you in the ready room before you set up our meeting.”
“Sir, when convenient, I would appreciate a private word as well,” said Trachenberg from the speaker.
“Why don’t you and Captain Guererro join me with Commander Straum. Come over by shuttle at your earliest convenience.”
“Aye, sir,” replied the two voices from the speaker.
Mitchell turned in his seat. “Commander Straum, we need a plan. These new AI fighters may be the key to this situation.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Straum. “But not if I can help it,” she said to herself, as they left the briefing room.
* * *
Captain Sonja Guererro was waiting in the ready room when Mitchell and Straum arrived. She had taken the liberty of ordering tea and sat sipping, tall and elegant, while reviewing the Harmonian dossier. Beside her sat Commander Julia Trachenberg, diminutive next to the statuesque Guererro; dark-haired, dark-eyed, a small, gold Star of David on a choker-chain about her neck. Guererro had said nothing about the non-regulation adornment… having tattoos, which were also non-reg, discretely covered by her own uniform.
Mitchell and Straum entered. Guererro and Trachenberg stood, then sat again as Mitchell took his seat and introduced Straum. “The commander will be heading the fighter contingent of the squadron, Captains. We’re pressed for time, so here are my orders. Assuming we are unsuccessful either negotiating a settlement or the Qoearc withdraw, the AI fighters will be used for flanking attacks on the enemy ships. We’ll try to split their formation, focusing on disabling one ship, and hope the better odds will force the Qoearc to stop and think.
“Based on our data from Fleet Base Twenty-four and our current long-range scans, we’re a pretty even match for these Vrex ships. They’re bigger and pack a heavier punch, but our ships are faster and have better rate of fire. Our PAKS out-range their phased discharge weapons, or have always show to do so, and we assume that still stands. As for our AI fighters…” He looked to Straum and nodded.
“The AI’s are pretty good,” Straum began, “and with hyper-comm, there’s no time lag between the monitors and fighters. If we fight in a star’s singularity, however, comm is limited by RF and the speed of light. In that case, the AI’s go fully autonomous and the monitors follow as best they can.”
“Then we draw the Qoearc away from the planet and out of the system,” said Guererro. “But my guess is one ship will remain and basically hold the Harmonians hostage. Getting them to chase us out will be tough. Why should they follow?”
“A fair question,” replied Mitchell, when Straum dithered. “Commander, you have expressed, shall we say, reservations about the effectiveness of the AI fighters. Regardless, we’ll use them as our opening gambit and follow with our ships. Understood?”
Straum nodded after a moment. “Yes, sir. We’ll do our best. However…”
“Yes?”
“Permission to ready our crewed fighters as backup. My pilots are ready to tackle the Qoearc.”
Mitchell studied Straum’s face for a long moment. “Negotiations first, fighting last. But as a precaution, proceed with readying the crewed fighters.” He glanced to Guererro and Trachenberg. “The same with your ships, Captains. It will keep your air wing personnel sharp, I’m certain.”
“Sir?” Trachenberg raised her chin slightly. “The Qoearc have destroyed two monitoring stations and taken the crewed one hostage. They have rained destruction onto several inhabited areas, causing certain casualties. Why are we holding back?”
Mitchell replied in measured tones. “You heard my orders from the admiral, Commander. While they are explicit, they also leave room for interpretation based on the circumstances. Currently, we’re contacting the Harmonians to find out what’s really happening. If we go in with guns blazing, we could upset whatever solution may be in the works. As I said before, twenty-four hours. Then we’ll decide how to proceed.” He looked around the room once more. “Questions? Very well, dismissed. Commander Trachenberg, will you stay for a moment?”
Guererro gave Trachenberg a crooked grin as she rose, nodded to Mitchell, and exited through the door. Straum followed without further words.
Mitchell offered tea. “You’re captain of Armstrong now,” he said. “I know a bit of your family history and I have to say, I’m impressed. Three generations in Earth Alliance service, and before that, two in the council of the Outward Presence Movement.” He nodded to her necklace. “You take your history and heritage very seriously, and I admire that. But don’t let it cloud your judgement in this mission.”
“Understood, sir. Thank you.”
“They’re more than compliments, Commander. This situation is grave for more than the obvious reasons. With a planet that won’t fight for itself, will they allow us to fight for them? Have you considered the possibility they may simply order us away and deal with the Qoearc themselves? It’s doubtful this Qoearc commander will accept anything less than total surrender.”
“Honestly sir, I’ve had little time to consider much of anything other than the ship and Captain Martinez’s condition. She was worsening before I left Armstrong, and Doctor Addams is considering medical stasis until we can return her to Fleet Base Twenty-four. He may have other concerns if we go into combat.”
“We’ll defer to his opinion, then. In the meantime, my offer stands regarding having my XO assist you. Your combat record is thin; only two skirmishes in the file.”
“Yes, sir. But successful.”
“You’re up to this? I know you have confidence in yourself, but what about your crew? Captain Martinez is the only commanding officer Armstrong an
d the crew have known.”
Trachenberg considered. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
Mitchell’s jaw twitched. “Proceed.”
“What would you have me do, sir? Turn over command to your First Officer, or my Chief Engineer? I know I’m new on board, but in six months I’ve learned much from Captain Martinez. I have a good relationship with the fighter wing commander and our other senior officers. Your offer of assistance is… demeaning to me, in a way. It says you lack confidence in me that you say I have in myself.”
She paused and licked dry lips. “I’m an Earth Alliance officer, and duty is why I am here. I’ll follow your orders as I’m bound to do, but sir, I only ask you give Armstrong a chance to show its worth. I’ve trained for this. I know my job. Don’t take it from me.”
Mitchell watched her face, a serious no-nonsense face, one filled with a determination he saw too infrequently in Earth Alliance these days. “Very well. Your point is made, and very eloquently, I might add. Continue with your duty then, Captain.” He emphasized the title. “Let’s see how the next twenty-four hours go, then you might get a chance to show your stuff.”
* * *
Denise Straum was not pleased. Stalking her way back to the flight deck where both the standard crewed fighters and the new Artificial Intelligence drone fighters were hangered gave her time to cool her temper.
The AI fighters were the latest in Earth Alliance technology. Unmanned and autonomous, but with override capability, field testing had shown them to be superior in tactics and accuracy to the current one and two-man fighters carried by Interceptors such as Burlingame. Straum didn’t believe it. She personally had petitioned to test her fighter squadron against the AI’s and was denied, with a veiled threat of discipline if she pressed the issue.
Straum smelled the “old-boy network”, still a problem even in Earth Alliance: favoritism in awarding contracts, flaws in design or performance swept out the hatch, and credits surreptitiously finding their way into powerful politician’s pockets.
She hated it. But she loved her duty, and the fighter crews she had fought beside and now commanded. And Burlingame was a good ship. Captain Mitchell, for all his protocol, was a fighting captain, and she had served under him for two years with commendations for each of her pilots.