by P P Corcoran
“Now this.” Okal paused dramatically as the Alonan Empire worlds receded into the mass of stars and dozens upon dozens of new worlds replaced them. “My friends, are the worlds controlled by the Commonwealth.” The gasps from the officers were not of horror but of disbelief.
“The scrupulously laid plans of the Elders have borne fruit.” Okal said finding it hard to keep the pride out of his voice. “The Seed Worlds have prospered more than we could ever have hoped for. And-” Again Okal paused as a single world flashed. “This is Edasich, despite the Others’ attacking this planet and murdering its population as part of their Ehita, the Commonwealth located survivors hiding underground on the planet’s moon. Survivors who are not descended from any of the original Seed Worlds.” The room was so still, you could have heard a pin drop. Okal scanned his officers and allowed them a moment to take in what he had said.
“Yes, my friends. Even though millennium ago, the Elders searched for basic civilizations and found none, which triggered their decision to expend massive resources on the Seed World program, all along,” Okal extended one brown furred digit and pointed at the small world, “On Edasich, without outside interference, a life form had grown, became intelligent, built an industrial civilization, and reached for the stars.”
“Commander, what does this line represent?” Asked Savior’s chief engineer.
The worlds of the Commonwealth receded as the worlds of the Alonan Empire had done before them. Instead a wavy, wandering line, colored the deepest red cut across the montage of stars. “That.” Said Okal as he walked into the mist of the display to stand before the line. “Is the border with the race the Commonwealth know as the Turak. The extent of their space is unknown as the Turak allow no one to cross beyond this line. What we do know is that, like the Edasich, the Turak are not a product of our Seed World program.”
“And what of this Supreme Leader?” Asked the engineer through clenched teeth.
“Chera.” Okal said and the spread of stars disappeared to be replaced with the image of a sleek, space black warship. Weapons pylons jutting out from flattened, broad hulls like some nightmarish sea monster. “As the Alonans have told us, warships armed with antimatter missiles, high output lasers and grasers and protected by energy shields are appearing in ever larger numbers. Chera has extracted from this intelligence that neither the Alonans, the Commonwealth nor, the secretive Turak are a match for them.”
“We have no choice, then, but to continue aiding the Alonans.” Stated the chief engineer frankly.
Okal’s head bobbed in agreement.
“But surely we can’t restrict the aid to the Alonans.” Interjected a voice from the back of the room.
Okal’s eyes searched out and found the source. Salo. The Savior’s medical officer. Her large, round, pleading eyes demanded an answer. Okal favored her with a small smile.
“You are, as usual, correct Salo. However,” He said addressing everyone in the room. “We must ensure the Alonans have the ability to defend themselves against the threat they face from the Supreme Leader and his renegades. Chera has assured me that with the technology we’ve shared with the Alonans, and our instruction in its use, it is a matter of months before they become self-sufficient and, at that time, we shall make our move.”
“And what is our move, Commander?” Asked the chief engineer.
Alongside the Black Ship a large, sprawling space station sprung into existence. “This is the nearest Commonwealth base. Waypoint 4. It is here that we will reveal ourselves to the races of the Commonwealth and offer the same aid to them as we have to the Alonans.”
Okal gave the gathering a moment, then clapped his hands loudly and snapped the room out of a growing melancholic mood.
“Now.” He said in a voice with forced levity. “Does anybody have any ideas on how we are going to manage our departure from Alonan space?”
Okal’s question and tone had the desired effect. A chorus of laughter filled the room. Enjoy this moment, thought Okal. For there are dangerous times ahead. Mentally shaking himself, Okal resolved to get down to serious planning with his officers.
CHAPTER EIGHT
NEW BOSS SAME AS THE OLD BOSS
FORTRESS COMMAND | EARTH ORBIT | SOL SYSTEM
Kris Madkin reached up and released the constricting collar of his expensive business suit, made all the more expensive by the tissue thin polymorphic armor that the Presidential Office of Security agents insisted he wear whenever he was in public. Kris’ eyes fell on the behemoth which rested like a second moon beyond the armored glass of the Shuttle One’s round portholes. Fortress Command, six million tonnes of armored steel and lethal directed energy weapons, missiles and Mosquito space-fighters ready to discourage anyone foolish enough to come close enough to Earth with the thought of harming humanities home world.
Today however, a visit to Fortress Command had not been the primary reason for a visit from the President of the Terran Republic. No, today, that massive construct had been playing host to the commissioning ceremonies of the Terran Defense Forces latest warships. The second and third ships of the Itus Carrier Class, TDF Montu and TDF Bastet. These two vessels would soon become the hub of their own Carrier Strike Groups and follow the lead ship in the class, TDF Itus, as Admiral Ai Jing’s answer to the need to provide protection and security to the seemingly unstoppable expansion of the colonization program. A low groan escaped Kris, his thoughts had turned to the impending round of budget and legislator battles that would see him fight to secure the promises he had made on the campaign trail. Battles he had to fight while trying to get key appointments filled within his own presidency. Rebecca had been so right when she had said that his first hundred days in office would be the hardest, but she had failed to mention that the second hundred would show no signs of easing up the pace.
The sound of gentle clinking against glass brought Kris out of the melancholy spiral that he was rapidly descending into. Turning his head away from the imposing sight of Fortress Command and the two carriers that resembled toys beside the space stations imposing bulk Kris felt a smile tug at his lips as he refocused on the crystal glass filled with a liquid that had the deepest, grainy aroma of the finest highland whiskey cooled with two ice cubes.
“You, Clement Bradshaw, are a life saver.” Kris said as he took the glass from the outstretched hand of his Chief of Staff. For a fleeting moment something sad passed over Clement’s eyes before he quickly shook it off and gave Kris a gentle smile. Internally Kris kicked himself for his turn of phrase for he had indeed saved Clement’s life on a cold winter’s day outside a restaurant in Geneva when an assassin had tried and failed to kill both men. Three POS agents had been killed that night before a badly injured Kris was able to use one of the dead agents weapons to get a couple of shots off before falling into unconsciousness as his own wounds poured his life giving blood onto the sidewalk. Luckily his faltering vision had kept the weapon straight and true killing the would-be assassin. Hence his POS details code name for him. ‘Deadshot’.
By Clement’s quick recovery Kris guessed that the older man had no intention of reliving that moment, so Kris moved on to more pressing concerns. “I’m not liking what I’m hearing from our friends at naval intelligence.”
Clement lowered himself into the seat opposite allowing himself thinking time by taking a sip of his own drink. An amber colored beer that Clement swore had once been foisted on him by a barman during a visit to a craft brewery in Munich and one he had never been able to shake the taste of. Much to the disdain of the navy crew of Shuttle One who had had to track down the craft brewery and ensure that there was always a constant supply aboard in case the Chief of Staff fancied a light refreshment.
“Yes, it appears the Alonans are up to something and want to keep us in the dark.”
“It’s bad enough that our allies run operations without giving us a heads up. But, this latest incident with the Alonans has caused an atmosphere of suspicion and is in flagrant breach of the Join
t Observer Protocol.” Kris swigged his drink as he tried to control his exasperation.
Clement eyed the younger man over the rim of his glass. Kris sat there with his head back, eyes half closed and Clement had come to recognize the signs that Kris was wondering why he had ever agreed to run for president. Well, thought Clement, this is why Rebecca had insisted that if she was going to give her backing to a senator whom hardly anyone had ever heard against the Earth First people led by Mathias Grant III with the deep coffers of Seaton Anderson either buying off or straight out blackmailing anyone in the Grant’s run for the presidency then Kris would be in desperate need of he an older, perhaps wiser, hand to help guide him. And that was exactly what Clement intended to do.
“Chairman Volak is indeed a wily one, Mr. President.” Said Clement referring to the Persai who had risen to lead the Council of Twelve following the death of Tarrov who had been a close personal friend and steadfast ally of Rebecca Coston. “We consider him a Hawk in our own nomenclature. Perhaps, at the next quarterly meeting of the heads of the Commonwealth you should get to know him better, strike up a friendship.”
With eyes closed, Kris grunted and signaled his acquiescence to Clement’s suggestion. Satisfied with the president’s tacit agreement, Clement pushed onto the next, more difficult, subject. The Alonans.
“The Alonan Empire on the other hand is a more -” Clement looked for the right word, “Prickly subject.”
Kris chuckled. “I should ask Admiral Jing to send his shiny new ships on a visit to Alona, so the Emperor can look up from his palace and see what I think about him obstructing one of our observers from doing their job.” The hand holding Kris’ glass gestured toward Clement while a playful smile spread across the president’s lips. “I’ve always wondered what Gun Boat Diplomacy looked like with starships.”
The frown that formed on Clement’s face reminded Kris of one his mother gave him when his boyhood self suggested something that would get him into trouble. Kris laughed out loud at the similarity, which caused Clement’s frown to deepen.
“When you are quite finished, Mr. President.” Scolded Clement.
“Please continue.” Kris managed between laughs.
“The Alonans have always been jealous of their military’s activities and, since their whole society is based on a quasi-military format, that means they don’t like us having our military observers on their ships; looking over shoulders and gleaning intelligence. Until now the Alonans have put up with this de facto spying for the simple reason that they are doing the exact same thing to us.”
“Alonan observers are found on virtually every one of our major bases and capital ships. The fact that they were willing to stretch to extent of injuring one of our observers- to stop him boarding a naval ship we believe is bound for this…” Clement searched his memory for the name that naval intelligence was so keen to get its eyes on.
“Foram.” Kris said helpfully. “And Admiral Vadis over at the Naval Intelligence Service is unwilling to call it a place, operation, or even a person.”
“Whatever,” said Clement, “that does not change the fact that our observer was nearly killed when the airlock door leading onto the transport linked to Foram had an unexpected malfunction and closed without warning. The observer was damned lucky it only crushed his leg, a fraction longer and the door would have closed on his chest.”
Kris placed his now half empty glass on the table before him as he mulled over his next move. Clement allowed him the time to think, after all he may have been Chief of Staff however, this sort of decision had to come from the top and you did not get any further up the chain of command than the President.
“Okay, Clement, let’s draft a diplomatic note of protest and have the Ambassador deliver it to the hands of the Emperor personally. That should signal gravity of the situation.”
Clement was nodding his agreement while making a note on his PAD only for Kris to interrupt him. “Oh, and Clement -”
“Yes, Mr. President?” Clement said as he lifted his head from the PAD.
“Let’s light a fire under Admiral Vadis and his people. If the Alonans are willing to go this far to protect their dirty little secret, then it’s pretty important we find out what it is. Don’t you agree?”
“Agreed.” Replied Clement as a naval steward entered the small lounge and cleared his throat.
“Twenty minutes till we touch down at Geneva, Mr. President. Do you require anything else?”
“No, thank you.” Kris answered. The steward left as silently as he had entered while Kris shifted his gaze, once more, to the porthole and the view beyond.
Holding steady off Shuttle One’s port side was a naval Katana assault shuttle. In the distance Kris caught brief flashes of light reflected off the fuselage of a pair of Mosquito space-fighters, providing a constant Combat Space Patrol while the president’s shuttle lay beyond the reach of the high-altitude aero fighters. Undoubtedly, at this moment the aero fighters tore through the atmosphere to rendezvous with Shuttle One ready to escort him safely to Geneva. The Presidential Office of Security took their job very seriously, thought Kris, as he closed his eyes for a cat nap before to landing.
✽✽✽
NAVAL INTELLIGENCE SERVICE | CARSON CITY | EARTH | SOL SYSTEM
“The President’s Office would like the Naval Intelligence Service to expedite any and all collection of intelligence in relation to the Empire of Alona’s ongoing project known only at this time as Foram.” Aleksandr Vadis said through gritted teeth as he stared at the message displayed on his Top-Secret terminal. A stare that, in the opinion of Brigadier General Earl Statham, was about to morph into the swinging of solid objects at the screen.
“I should have followed Olaf into retirement.” Grumbled Vadis.
Statham let out a deep chuckle at Vadis’ statement. “Yeah, I can see you and Olaf sitting outside that shack of his he has the temerity to call a house on an island no bigger than the landing pad on the roof of this building surrounded by nothing but water for hundreds of kilometers on a planet located at the arse end of nowhere. You would kill each other within a week.”
Vadis let out a deep sigh as he cleared the message from the screen and walked around his desk to join his friend who was relaxing leisurely on a sofa helping himself to coffee.
“If Elizabeth Wilson was in my employ, I would set her on the Alonans, and God help them.” Vadis growled.
Statham raised his coffee mug in mock salute. “Now that, Aleksandr, would have been a sight worth waiting for. Unfortunately, I believe that she may be otherwise busy being your opposite number at the Janus Office of Naval Intelligence and all.”
Vadis subconsciously grimaced. The First Earth movement had driven a hell of a lot of damn fine officers and ratings into the waiting arms of a Janus eager to expand its own capabilities as it strove to prove beyond anyone’s doubt that it could not only stand on its own two feet it could rank up there with the two core powers of the Commonwealth. Earth and Pars. Maybe he should have retired when Rebecca Coston stepped down? Olaf Helsett, Coston’s Secretary of Defense, had taken the opportunity so why hadn’t he? Because the job’s not done yet, Aleksandr that’s why, Vadis admonished himself.
“Earth calling Aleksandr. Come in Aleksandr.” Called Statham forcing Vadis to break off his chain of thought.
“Yes, yes, I’m here.” Vadis said as he popped himself down on the couch. “For the moment let’s see what this diplomatic note shakes free. Maybe Colonel Fantozzi will pick up another lead. In the meantime, lets employ some of your Department of Special Projects’ little toys and see if we can find out where those transports are headed.”
Statham thought for a moment before speaking. “One of our lot have been playing with the idea of being able to place a tracking device onto a gravity drive capable ship.”
That caused Vadis to lean forward. The implications of being able to follow a gravity drive star ship to its destination could have massive ramifications for how the navy
evolved its tactics. As it stood, the moment a ships gravity drive was activated and it fled into fold space all contact was lost with it so you had no idea where it was going to reemerge into normal space that’s why even normal multi ship formations took such extraordinary measures to ensure that each and every ship in a formation had precise navigational data before activating its gravity drive. Get it wrong and the ships either emerged all on top of each other which would end badly for all involved or, more likely, your ships ended up spread all over space and having to make a number of smaller folds to regroup.
“Now don’t get too excited, Aleksandr.” Statham cautioned his boss. “This is highly experimental. Something about knowing the exact position of the target ship, the direction of travel. Energy supply to the gravity drive as a… coefficient of length of engine… engagement and a myriad of other factors which, I’ll be honest with you, left my head hurting. I’m not even sure Admiral Glandinning out at Zarminda fully grasped the concept and he’s one of the smartest flag officers I know.”
“I know what you mean.” Commented Vadis. “I made the mistake once -” Vadis cocked an eyebrow at Statham, “of asking him to explain how his staff worked out the antimatter containment field miniaturization problems which had been the major stumbling block on the development of the High-Velocity Antimatter Missile.” Vadis shook his head slowly. “His explanation left my brain hurting for days.” The men laughed,
“Moving onto a subject which I have a chance of understanding, what’s the progress on Project Bright Star?”
“Bright Star? Right, the issues identified by Doctor Sarkisian with the Deployable Stellar Detection Grid are close to being rectified. New components have been manufactured and are in the final stages of testing.”
“Hmm, might have been an idea to do that the first time around.” Mumbled Vadis.
“Ensign Burkett has taken it upon himself to test each module personally. Both Admiral Glandinning and the doctor speak highly of him, though he’d deny it. I think the admiral has taken a bit of a shine to our young ensign and would like him assigned to Zarminda following completion of his current tour.”