This time she did glance up at Plon. He was busy with something to the right of his massive console and wasn’t paying her any attention. Unlike Nage, Plon had shown interest in her, which she found confusing. She knew she wasn’t desirable, so she was confused as to what Plon saw in her. Nage never showed her any attention at all. What was Plon’s game? She puzzled over the answer, but she was sure in had to be political in some way.
Maybe he is trying to invest time in me in the hope I will side with him against Supreme Kold if it comes to that.
Snorting, Jime had no plan on getting between him and Kold. There was no delusion in her mind that Plon would come out on top of that disagreement. Just like she stayed out of Nage’s issues with Kold, she would do the same with Plon. Having witnessed Nage’s demise, and seeing what may be coming for Plan, she had no desire to ever be in their shoes.
Jime supposed her one true weakness was in her caring. She cared about her crew. They were the finally tuned machines that made the Ciat an efficient ship. Regardless of her desire to keep a low profile with Supreme Kold, she would make a stand if Kold ever tried to make an example of her, her crew or her ship. She would sacrifice herself for her crew, but not for Plon. He was on his own.
Shaking her head in frustration of that fact, she suddenly had a strong desire to take her Ciat home. She tired of this battle. Deep inside she had a nagging desire to park her Ciat directly over Supreme Square and bombard it like they did to that hillside on that alien planet. She knew it was treasonous to think that way, but the desire to do so was welling within her.
◆◆◆
The ticks seemed to drag on as Plon waited word from his fast attack on where his opponent was located. Activating the counter on his console, he entered in ten-to-the-tenth ticks. Pressing start, he watched it slowly count down. When it reached zero, he would send out another fast attack to see what happened to the first one.
Plon wasn’t going to waste another ship, though. He would have the second fast attack locate the end point, and then he would send in assaulter to spy on what was there. The assaulter would be able to take a beating and still come back out to report what it encountered. Hopefully, though, it wouldn’t be necessary, and he would hear from the first fast attack soon.
Leaning back in his chair and staring straight up, he cursed the silence. Plon wanted an update, so he could get his fleet in motion again. He deserved a second shot at his opponent, and he wanted it bad.
Dropping his head to look off to his right, he could see his former ship, the Veru, sitting nearby. Plon figured Ibop was probably sitting in the control section of that ship wondering when things were going to happen as much as he did. While the Ciat was a more modern ship, the Veru was still a good ship in her own right, and Plon missed being on her.
“Control from Girk, location of opponent fleet found. They have taken refuge within a static burst cloud. I am sending over our sweep data now.”
Finally! Plon stared at the monitor that would present the information from the Girk once it successfully transmitted. The mention of the static burst cloud made him frown. No commander would ever go into one lightly. If the formation of the burst cloud was large enough, it would hamper the ability of anyone inside it to keep their equilibrium. Rebounders wouldn’t function properly, computers would present scrambled data, and visibility outside the ship would be minimal.
Rumors of hot-shot commanders flying into large static burst clouds and coming out sideways always made for great drinking stories between Controls. Plon wasn’t aware of anyone who had actually tried it. Since modern ships relied solely on automated controls and computer-generated displays, losing them could quickly confuse and disorient even the best of navigators.
The sweep display continued its slow mapping of the Girk’s rebounder input. While he continued to wait, Plon wondered how badly a ship would get bounced around in the burst cloud once the computer began trying to adjust its flight on faulty incoming data. The electronic disruption that was the nature of the cloud would create all kinds of havoc on the computer’s sensory readings. For all he knew, a ship could end up coming out the other side while corkscrewing through space.
“I don’t care how large a commander thinks his klodspirt is, no one is going to sport one big enough to risk losing their ship over,” Plon mumbled.
The screen finally finished painting the full picture of what the Girk was seeing, and it wasn’t pretty. Between two very large planets sat the largest formation of static burst clouds Plon had ever witnessed. They could hide the entire combined Curanian fleets within it and still have room for more.
The location of several tiny metallic objects didn’t skip his attention. They were the same devices that the large alien ships had sent out during the past battle. He suspected they were some kind of rebounders set there to detect any incoming activity. He had a sneaky suspicion these same devices were what tipped his opponent off to Ibop’s fleet coming around the planet that sent them into full retreat.
If his assumption was correct, then there was little to no chance he could sneak up on his opponent. He also noted a small vessel sitting just outside the burst cloud. He could see how the vessel’s external lights were blinking in random flickers he could not interpret. The series of short and longer blinks had to mean something, but what it was went beyond his knowledge.
“Your hiding somewhere in that mess, aren’t you?” Plon asked aloud.
Since the weapon the screeners and assaulters used could not penetrate the electrical effects of the static bursts within the cloud layers, he was limited to just the pounders. The pounders in his fleet had been modified to carry laser weapons rather than bombardment launchers. That left only Ibop’s pounders to have any hope of inflecting any damage onto his opponent’s ships.
While continuing to study the system’s layout, he wondered what success he would have if he set Ibop’s pounders in a line outside the range of the static burst cloud’s effects and had them launch their bombardment bombs into the mass. The mass was so large, though, he suspected the chances of actually hitting anything was probably remote. Won’t my opponent have the same problem trying to fire out of the cloud layers?
A thought occurred to him. Why would they set out the small objects and place a small vessel outside the burst cloud if they couldn’t communicate either? The blinking lights had to have some significance in their ability to communicate. It seemed like a stretch, but if that were true, his opponent would be able to determine the location of his ships while he was putting them in place. That would give them too great an advantage over his pounders, who would be firing blind into that mass.
“Okay, so I would have to take that small vessel out first. Although, I suppose it would just back into the clouds before I could get a ship near it. Then it would be free to move inside the cloud, and while hidden, pop out somewhere else to relay my ships’ positions.”
Plon realized he struck at the heart of the issue. It was highly unlikely anything could reside within a system that housed such a massive static burst cloud. If there were creatures on either planet, they surely would never have been able to create anything electronic with so many static disturbances all around them. This line of thinking only helped to enforce his belief that his opponent was leading him away from their home planet. This new location gave his opponent too much advantage, and they were hard enough to deal with without giving them an edge.
“What are the chances you will lead us back to your planet? About none, that’s what.”
If there was ever such a thing as a dead end, this was it. His opponent was shrewd, so he would never intentionally lead a Curanian ship to their home planet. Destroying his fleet was not going to accomplish anything other than causing him to lose more ships too. It was a stalemate at this point. His opponent didn’t know where the Curanian’s lived, and he didn’t know where they lived.
Shaking his head in disgust, Plon mumbled, “All I can do now is return and discuss with Kold what she
wants me to do next.”
With his mind made up, Plon had a course of action. He would not lose any more ships in a hopeless cause. Activating the communication link, he ordered, “Control to Girk. Set remote rebounders at the outer range of their effectiveness and far enough apart to cover as much of the static burst cloud as your supply will allow. Once that is done, return to the fleet” He then activated the link to all ships, and said, “Control to all ships. Make preparations for entering stage-two. It’s time to go home.”
Glancing down, Plon noticed Jime looking at him with concern on her face. Do you care enough for me, Jime, to fear Kold’s reprisal? Or do you only fear that our Supreme might scoop you up too in her desire to lash out at anyone and everyone? Don’t worry, for I have no intention of meeting Nage’s fate. Supreme may be powerful in her own right, but I have two fleets to back me up. There will be no pole erected for Plon to hang from. I can guarantee you that.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Thirty Rapatine days had passed since the small Curanian fast attack was spotted outside the nebula. Since that time, everything remained quiet. Before the little ship departed, though, it had moved further out and began maneuvering around, cueing Philip into suspecting something was up.
Thanks to his large supplies of probes, he sent out two dozen with the single purpose of exploring the area where the fast attack had been nosing around. The probes came back showing that small objects resided just outside the scanning range of the shuttle positioned outside the nebula.
With some apprehension, Philip sent a shuttle out there, along with one of his engineers, with orders to determine the purpose of the alien objects. The word eventually came back that they were suspected to be stationary probes. At first, Philip toyed with capturing one of them, but then decided against it in case his adversaries could track them. He ordered them destroyed instead, and once that was done, his fleet came out into the open again.
“Do you have a moment, Admiral?” Roger asked after poking his head into the open door of Philip’s cabin.
“Sure, what else do I have to do?” Philip responded with heavy sarcasm.
Roger came in and took a seat across Philip’s desk. After crossing one leg over the other and locking his hands around the upper leg, he asked, “All the probes we launched to search this entire system have returned. No contacts were made in any sectors. It’s safe to say we are alone for the moment.”
“That’s good to hear. I figure Earth has written us off by now. They haven’t heard peep out of me since my final message after fleeing Rapatine, but I sure wasn’t going to risk sending any messages on the assumption our opponent couldn’t intercept them. If they could follow a warp trail, who’s to say they can’t track back along a signal stream, too?”
“I think it was a wise decision to maintain silence,” Roger replied. He then dropped his leg and leaned to one side of the chair to get comfortable. “Unfortunately, there are a lot of mothers, fathers, wives and relatives who are probably sweating it out awaiting word on what happened to their loves ones.”
“True, but it couldn’t be helped.” Philip tilted his coffee cup and frowned at seeing it empty.
Roger shifting position again made Philip wonder if his back was bothering him. Once settled, Roger said, “I think that alien commander is too smart to attempt a battle in this nebula. His placement of those probes is a clear sign he intends to wait us out. I actually admire his common sense.”
“He may have common sense, but I still think he’s a sneaky bastard. If we hadn’t investigated why that fast attack was playing around out there, we would never have known about them. He was probably banking on our coming out of our cover and taking advantage of the quiet to head home. I have no doubt that as soon as we jumped into warp one of their ships would have been snooping around here trying to pick up our trail again. Well, at least we defeated him on that front.”
Roger unfolded his arms to rest one elbow on his arm rest. He asked, “So, where do we go from here?”
“Home.” Philip smiled at the way Roger’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Do you think that’s wise, Admiral?”
“Yeah, I think we’re okay now. We took out their eyes, and the fact they haven’t tried to replace them tells me they may have given up trying. I plan on moving the fleet around to the backside of this nebula and then nudging up as close as we can get without risking the effects hampering our Nav calculations. Even if they do find out we jumped, I find it hard to believe they could pull our trail out of all that interference the nebula will give them.”
“I still think it’s risky.”
“It’s minimal risk. We can’t stay out here forever, so sooner or later we’ll have to make for a major port anyway. With Rapatine out of the picture, that leaves Earth as the only other station large enough to support us.” Philip felt confident the Curanians had to have some limitations in being able to follow the trail of a ship in warp. “Besides, Earth could use the support of our ships should the Curanians ever show up there.”
“That’s for sure.” Roger again repositioned within the chair.
“What’s going on with you? You act like someone loaded your shorts with tacks.”
“I think I slept wrong. My back is acting up today,” Roger answered.
“More likely the release of all the stress we have been under,” Philip responded. “It can mess you up when you are holding on too tight for so long.”
“I suspect so.”
Getting up, Philip came around the desk. “Come on. Let’s go get you checked out and then grab something to eat.”
◆◆◆
Plon made the long walk from the landing craft pad into the Supreme Complex. Looking left and right, he could see the grounds were flooded with people busily pruning away old growth and blooms that had passed their prime. Above, he suspected Kold was looking down on them to ensure their work met her approval. There was some form of perfection in her mind that she didn’t share with others. Instead, she directed work onto others to achieve it, no matter how long it took.
Shaking his head at how Kold put so many of her subjects to work on such nonsense, it only helped enforce Plon’s feelings that all Supremes were just a bit touched in the head. The belief was strong enough that he wasn’t taking any chances with her. Just before he left the Ciat, he left orders with Jime that if he wasn’t back on board by the end of the day, she was to send Ground Master Suna down with two landing crafts loaded with assault troops to extract him from Kold’s clutches.
The Supreme had enforcers to send out to do her wishes and keep control of the population, but Plon doubted they would want to tangle with a couple of squads of heavily armed and armored assault troops that made a living subduing other heavily armed and armored troops. While Plon had no desire to have a running battle with his own people, his only goal would be to get back to the safety of his ship and out of the reach of Supreme Kold, unless she could convince her other ship commanders to have him extracted, which he highly doubted.
Of course, Plon had to risk that Kold wouldn’t have him executed on the spot or have him killed the moment his troopers hit the surface of the planet, and that thought hung with him as he entered the complex. He told the person behind the counter he was there at Supreme’s beckoning. After being directed to continue, he made his way to the entrance to her square. The two guards gave him a cursory glance as he passed by, which seemed appropriate since they all knew him.
When Plon exited the tunnel and spotted Kold, he stopped in his tracks, stunned. Rather than standing before her windows, she was sitting on her couch facing him. She had her legs crossed, and the slit in her long dress allowed the cloth to fall away, exposing her shapely legs. Where she typically wore dresses that covered her up to her neckline, this dress had a seductive, deep, v-shaped cut that ran nearly to her stomach.
The sight told him to be wary of her. He began to grow concerned that someone had informed her of his plan for escape from her clutch
es. His first thought was that Jime had ratted him out, but he quickly shook it off as something she wouldn’t do to him.
“Plon, it’s wonderful to have you back with me again. From your report, I see you were successful in taking away what appears to be one of their key facilities.” Kold’s voice was friendly and inviting, which only added to Plon’s wariness.
“That is true, my Supreme.” Plon said.
“Plon, you do not have to show such decorum here. You can call me Kold.”
“As you wish, Kold. These creatures were well prepared. They had already extracted everyone from the planet’s surface and their space station before we arrived. We know this because they did not evacuate them when we arrived, and we found no sign of anyone. Their fleet put up a valiant effort to keep us out, but they couldn’t withstand the numbers. Even though they retreated, I admired them for the stand the made. They also destroyed the place with such effectiveness that it has no value to anyone now.”
Kold tilted her head slightly to her left, which caused her flowing, shiny hair to bunch up between her shoulders and neck. It also exposed her beautifully pale neck on the right side that seemed to be inviting Kold over to kiss upon it. He internally shook the thought away.
“Yes. I read all that in your report. I agree completely with all you did. However, like you, I have no false hope that they will fall for such deception. They will not be so easily fooled again.”
The continued easy manner Kold presented was setting off warning flags within Plon’s brain. Something was clearly off here, and he wished he knew what she was up to now. He said, “I agree. These creatures are quite clever. It would never expect them to return to that system anytime in the foreseeable future. I suspect they will rebuild somewhere else. If they do make a mistake, we’ll be ready.”
The Curanian Dominance: The Linda Eccles Series - Volume Three Page 19