by Mark Tufo
Paul didn’t give a shit. He grinned at me. Busted is busted. “This could be the ship that wins this war, Mike. This thing is the pride of the Progerian fleet.”
“What about the other two ships they’ve got coming?”
“In terms of basic firepower this one is better than those two combined, and if we can get some essential repairs done to the Guardian, they won’t be a match for our might.” His demeanor changed almost immediately. “But they’re not the true threat, Mike, or at least the only one.”
“What gives?” Though I thought I knew the answer, I was going to make him say the unsavory words, anyway.
“The Stryvers are amassing.”
I shuddered, thinking about what a Stryver amassing looked like.
“They have at least four ships parked on the far edges of the galaxy. From what we could get from Uut that’s roughly a third of their fleet.”
“How big are their ships?”
“Two of them dwarf the Guardian,” he said. “Uut called them something like ‘Relocators.’”
I would have staggered over to and sat in one of the seats if it wouldn’t have made me look like a feeble weakling. “This is it, isn’t it? How did you discover them?”
“The battle on Earth. We tracked their fighters back to their origin.”
“So that’s why you want to give Asuras the chance to talk to the Prog ships when they show up. Then there’s another thing: why? Why would the Stryvers attack? We’re already doing our damnedest to beat the shit out of each other.”
“I’ve been talking to my officers; we have a few theories. Any and all of them at the same time could be the answer. First off, their hatred for the Progs and Genos is so intense that they will seize any opportunity to kill them. Second, the Stryvers would prefer that we, meaning Progs and Humans, mutually kill each other; perhaps they thought Humans were being outmatched and wanted to even the scales out. Or third, they make a conveniently small show to Humans that we are indeed allies.”
“I’m thinking the first one. I think just the sight of the Genos on the battlefield makes their blood boil, I bet they absolutely could not help themselves.”
“Why not just blast the shit out of them from the sky?” BT asked.
“This is personal between them,” I said. “They’ve been battling each other for so many years across the damn cosmos. Can you even imagine the amount of hatred that has built up over that time period? They don’t want to impersonally rain down bombs; they want to wrap their hands around each other’s throats and squeeze till their eyeballs pop.”
“Now the question is, how do we entice the Stryvers and the Progs to do exactly what the Stryvers wanted us to do against the Progs?” Paul asked.
I had to fundamentally agree with that stance, how could I not? Part of it was that I also had a hatred for the Stryvers and wanted to dole out a little of my own punishment. I was uncomfortable with my desire to sit back and let them do a little of our dirty work for a change, though why I should be complaining about that is beyond me. Might need a therapist to figure that one out. Maybe part of it was because I didn’t think all Progs and Genos were bad; yeah they were the enemy now, but maybe not forever. But was I just fooling myself? They weren’t just another Human culture we had a current problem with. They were from the reptilian evolutionary line, how many feelings of empathy and caring could they have? But then there was Dee; he couldn’t possibly be the only exception to the rule, and truth be told, I liked that Genogerian more than the vast majority of Humans I’d ever met.
“Say we believe that Uut has sufficient knowledge of his kind’s fleet. Did he tell you how many ships could eventually be on our doorstep?” I asked.
“He got a little fuzzy on this—I’m thinking because his health was declining. We’re hoping he said a dozen.”
“Hoping?” BT asked.
“There were some translation issues…there is a small possibility we might have missed a zero at the end there.”
“A hundred and twenty? That’s a pretty big gap, Paul. Your absolute best case scenario pits four Prog-Human ships against four Stryver ships. Any number of those others show up and we’re screwed. I think we need to get Asuras in here and tell him what’s going on. I don’t think we’ll need much in the way of coercion for him to see things our way.”
Paul wasn’t so much on the fence about this. It was more like he was sitting in his backyard, sipping a cocktail, pleased at how tall the fence dividing his yard from the neighbor’s was.
“Dude, Paul…General.” I finally appealed to the military leader. “I know this pains you, but we’re going to need them. You’re never going to be able to field a team of officers with enough experience, that quickly. You’ll be spread too thin, making them pull long shifts; they’ll be at their worst when they need to be at their best.”
“I know you’re right, Mike, I’m not denying it. It’s…I mean, how do I just forget everything that’s happened?”
“I’m not saying that and I definitely don’t want to be trite and throw some saying out there like ‘what’s done is done’ or can’t be undone because that makes it sound like I borrowed your lawn mower and then sold it. What’s happened is much too big to use those clichés. But we have to align ourselves with them, we don’t have a choice. We can’t force them to do anything and without them, we’re fucked, plain and simple.”
“I’m not giving the ship back.”
“Oh fuck no. On that, we are completely in agreement. This is a spoil of war as far as I’m concerned.”
“Good. I thought you were going to fight me on that. I’m a big enough man to admit when someone else is right, Mike, I am. But I don’t think I’m ever going to consider them friends. Just the thought of being allies with them turns my stomach. If we should win….”
“That’s a big if,” I inserted.
“If we win, then what? We might have two ships against, what?”
I shrugged, I didn’t have a clue to how many ships the Progs could muster. And it was a fairly reasonable expectation to think another alien race could throw its hat into the ring and help us or harm us. Although, if I had my choice, I’d wish for them to look like bulldogs.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” I told him. Fuck I hated clichés when dealing with this kind of shit.
“Bridge?” BT interjected. “There’s not going to be a bridge, Mike, just a giant bottomless chasm.”
“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out.”
“What about getting Drababan up here to captain this thing?” Paul was reaching for straws.
I shook my head. “There’s a lot of animosity between Progs and Genos right now. Maybe we should talk to him, though.” We were running circles figuring out our next moves, it was only going so far. None of us were true tacticians, and there were huge cultural gaps, making them even less predictable.
“I’ve got an idea. Captain Anders, get the Hill on the screen, please,” I said.
It was a minute later the screen turned from an opaque white to the very stern visage of a pissed off Genogerian. Got to think that Dee was seeing the call sign for the Vicieus and that they had a secure line to the Hill was not a good sign.
“Michael? General?” He was looking around the bridge; I could see him visibly relax. “How is this possible?”
“Long story, my friend, I will regale you with my heroics when we are back on terra firma. How is everything down there?”
“Your son and your mate are well.”
I couldn’t help it, I almost cried. The weight of that worry had been immense and to have it removed was a relief far beyond words. BT put a hand on my shoulder and I pinched my eyes. To say anything now might come out in a breathless sob, so I took a moment to collect myself. “That’s good.”
“That’s good?” This from Tracy off screen. “That’s good? That’s all you can manage?” The camera swung. When she saw my face I think she realized how I was just barely holding on, I don’t want to say
“to my dignity” it’s perfectly dignified to cry when you realize your family is safe. Maybe “my military decorum,” that’s better.
“Hey, dad!” It was Travis. He was sitting in a chair next to my wife.
Fuck it, I’m not too proud to say I lost it.
Paul spared me. “Major, I will give you plenty of time for a family reunion after I talk to Drababan.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, but before she swung the camera back she mouthed the words I love you. I copied her but by the time I was done I was staring at Dee.
“I love you too, Michael Talbot,” he replied.
“Asshole.” I managed to choke out. That got a pretty good round of laughs for all present on both screens.
“Drababan, the Vicieus is indeed ours,” Paul said. “The problem now is the Progerians on board. We believe they will fight with us as long as it is against the Stryvers; but once the other Prog vessels show I am afraid we will have a mutiny, and unfortunately, I do not have enough trained personnel to fly both this beast and the Guardian.”
“Is Commander Asuras still in charge of the Vicieus?” Dee asked.
“He is…or was,” I said.
“He is an honorable Progerian,” Dee responded.
I told Dee how we had formed an alliance before we took over the ship through subterfuge. I think that made him feel slightly queasy.
“We had to,” I explained. “Even he could not guarantee that your home world would honor the alliance.”
“We are done buying time,” Paul interjected.
“General, I do not know what good a ship will be if you cannot fly it. The Vicieus will need hundreds of personnel to keep her operational.”
“I need solutions, not more problems, Drababan.” Paul did not look happy, not so much with Dee, just in general.
Dee did not hesitate with his response. “You will have to give him his ship back.”
I think it was a three-way tie between Tracy, Paul, and myself saying “What?”
“You can’t be serious?” Paul asked.
“Yeah and we risked our lives!” I stupidly chimed in. BT nudged me just as I realized what I’d said and to what audience. She didn’t interrupt and I couldn’t even see her, but oh yeah I could feel the anger oozing across the thousands of miles that separated us. I’d be paying for this.
“I do not see your choices. You tell me there are Stryver ships out there. They are emboldened enough that they have launched ground troops. Time grows short.”
“Dee, there are two more Prog vessels coming; what if they don’t agree with Asuras’s stance? He doesn’t fight and we have a hindered Guardian trying to take them on while he sits back like Switzerland.”
“That is a risk you are going to have to take. I do not see the difference between that and your current state.”
“Why don't we just take the Vicieus and abandon the Guardian if she’s in such a bad state?” BT asked.
“The Vicieus is a much more complex ship to pilot,” Drababan stated. “It would be like asking an Earth pilot who was qualified on a three-person Cessna to now pilot a 757. There are some similarities, but there are far more differences. You could learn to do it given enough time, but that seems to be the commodity we are all short on.”
Paul had a hard set to his jaw; he was thinking this through.
“You can’t seriously be entertaining this can you?” I asked.
“I can’t believe you, of all people, are now questioning what I’m thinking. It was you that wanted to let him keep the ship in the first place.” Paul said.
“Yeah because that meant I didn’t have to go on what I figured was a suicide mission.” I blurted out.
“Fuck. Are you stupid.” BT had placed a hand over his eyes.
“Suicide mission?” Tracy yelled from off-camera. “Drababan, I need a shuttle.”
“No!” I ordered.
“There are no depths to your idiocy,” BT replied.
I noticed Greggs sidling away from me as if he were afraid of becoming collateral damage.
“Yes,” Paul said. I felt betrayed anew. “Drababan, I would like to put you on with Captain Firth. You two will coordinate how many personnel we will need. I plan on having them shadow the Progerians and learn everything they can about this ship. If we are to make a true alliance, then I see no other way than to go full tilt.”
“You’re full of shit aren’t you?” I asked Paul once he’d transferred the call over to the captain.
“I need Drababan to believe in what I am doing so that he can sell it to Asuras.”
“What about me?”
“What about you, Colonel?”
“I think I would have liked to have been in the dark as well. Dee’s not going to be happy about this when he finds out.”
“His happiness is not my concern. He’s a major in my army and he’ll follow my orders whether he likes them or not—or he’s free to go back home into his world of slavery.”
“Hardcore,” BT muttered.
“So how are you planning on giving Asuras his ship and then taking it back?” I asked. “Pretty sure he’s not going to agree to fight for you and then when it’s all done just hand over the keys.”
“Sergeant Greggs is convinced he can hide code within their mainframe that will allow us to seize control when we have to.”
“Are you not thinking about the hundreds of Human crew you are planning on stationing aboard this ship to learn the controls? They’ll be in danger.”
“That’s why I’m appointing you as security officer of this ship.”
“Me? I don’t want to be up here. I belong on the ground! I’m a foot soldier, a beloved grunt, a ground pounder for fuck’s sake.”
“You’re needed up here. This ship is vital and so are the people that will soon be aboard her. It’s imperative that you keep both safe. There is no other Human being with a better understanding of the Progerian and Genogerian minds than you, Mike. Besides, your wife has always wanted to be a pilot, and now I’m going to give her one of the largest ships ever created.”
“Fuck me; he’s good,” BT said slyly.
He had me cornered; there was no way I would leave this ship, not without Tracy. If it wasn’t so volatile up here I’d call down for my son. I missed him terribly. I just wanted to be home, the three of us, maybe in front of the fireplace drinking some hot cocoa and playing a rousing game of Chutes and Ladders. Sounded damn near like Heaven.
Paul did a check of some parts of the ship while Greggs worked some digital wizardry that I could not even begin to understand, nor did I want to. It was maybe three hours later when Greggs called us on the radio to let us know he was done.
“I’ll meet you at the shuttle,” Paul told him. “It’s all you now, Mike.”
“What? Are you fucking kidding me? That’s it?” I didn’t even know how to question it. It was like he’d handed me a basket of broken eggs that had been scooped up along with the giant cow patty that they’d fallen into and now I was supposed to make an omelet or some shit.
“Want to know what I truly want to do, Mike?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Sure, I had wanted to know, until the look in his eye conveyed all the meaning I needed.
“I want to march every fucking Prog, Geno, and mute into the hangar and then blow them out into space. That’s what I really want to fucking do. So I’m leaving this place in your hands to make something better come from it. Is that clear?”
“It is,” I told him. Yep, that was the look I saw, all right.
“Wow. That fucker was your friend?” BT said as we watched Paul turn a corner far up ahead. “I thought only a woman could fuck a guy up that seriously.”
“Ain’t that the truth. Well, I suppose we should go have a talk with Asuras.”
Chapter 13
MIKE JOURNAL ENTRY 8
Talking with the commander went well enough; he had a new emotion to deal with as we spoke. Humans had taught him a lesson in skepticism. Can’t blame him at all bec
ause, ultimately I was setting him up all over again.
“Let me understand you. Your general, after going through all the trouble to wrest control of this vessel, has suddenly decided to give it back?” he asked.
“Commander, my general can be impulsive; he saw a window of opportunity and he took it while it was available. Upon further review and after listening to his advisors, myself and BT included, tell him that there was no way Earth could muster up sufficient qualified personnel in time, he realized that the best thing would be to grant this alliance.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I think you already know the answer to that question.”
“Alliances are generally not predicated on one side murdering the other.” I was having a hard time with his memory being so short; I was also having a hard time agreeing with that assessment in general.
“What would you have me do, Asuras? These are the terms set before me. Perhaps you are wise not to trust our motivations, but we already have absolute proof of your intentions. That every one of you is not already dead speaks volumes of how far the general has come.”
“If these decisions were up to you?”
“I wouldn’t have given you the ship back. There are too many variables in play. There’s no guarantee that your other two ships will fall in line with you, and then what? Perhaps we remain on the same side up until the Guardian begins opening fire, then what are you going to do, Asuras? Stay neutral? I doubt it.”
“That would be a true test of our new friendship.”
“I am humbled that you still speak of us as friends,” I told him honestly. “But we are only two representing millions, and this is a test we cannot afford for you to fail, Asuras. There is a saying on earth that ‘blood is thicker than water’ and that is what I fear will happen here.”
“Blood is indeed thicker than water; what is the significance in our situation?”
“Blood, in this case, refers to relations, to your kin; water to friends, or in this case, diplomatic acquaintances.”