by PP Corcoran
Christos shook his head slowly as he contemplated the look on the faces of the Joint Chiefs back home, never mind the male politicians. A society where females were dominant. Now that was something his wife would appreciate and his daughters would love.
“So the Saiph had been establishing a meteor defense shield around the planet when they met their untimely end?”
“It would seem so, Christos. It fits with the data compiled by our own people and explains why life survived on a planet that, otherwise, should have met its end a long time ago. When the Saiph ship was uncovered, it caused turmoil. I gather there were a number of wars over the years, until the Benii were able to translate the Saiph language, at which point they became aware of their position in the universe and the fact that the Others were out there intent on destroying all life. The Benii became as determined to survive as we did after our world wars and by reverse engineering as much of the Saiph technology as they could, they developed rudimentary space flight. With single-minded determination, they went on to build a fleet of generational ships which they sent to their nearest neighboring star system likely to have a planet capable of supporting life. An orange dwarf star 4.1 light years distant. The journey took the ship over 150 years but they made it, and established a colony they called Baut. By that time they had mastered black holes as a power source, however, they were discontented with just one colony; so they dispatched a second colony fleet to a G-type main sequence star, thirteen light years distant, where they established Gossol. Both colonies, as far as the home system is aware, are flourishing.”
“Wow… that really is quite an achievement. If we hadn’t invented the Gravity Drive we too would’ve gone down the generational ship route – if we ever wanted to visit the stars.” Christos took a gulp of coffee before asking the question he knew both of them had avoided.
“So what do you think the people back home are going to think of a race which is armed to the teeth and has been training for a fight with the Others for nearly half a millennium?”
Nicholas regarded Christos over the top of his cup. “I would say that the prospect of a well-armed, well-motivated, well-trained fighting force with an institutional hatred for the Others would make some salivate. Some, on the other hand, may regard them as a bit of a loose cannon and be glad that they don’t have the ability to get from one star system to another in a hurry.”
That was the issue Christos had found himself considering ever since Nicholas sat down and began recounting his meeting with the Benii.
“So what do you think our next step should be?”
A frown of concentration creased Nicholas’ forehead before he answered.
“I have already arranged for Miss Johanson to continue to lead the negotiations; I have shortlisted some senior female staff to assist her, although I expect it may not be too long before High Commander Botac will request a tour of the Cutlass and realize that the majority of our senior officers are male. That’s a hurdle we’ll cross when we come to it. In the meantime, I suggest we request a diplomatic courier dispatched here with an all-female crew.”
Christos cocked his head. “For what purpose?”
“Even with the Benii’s most advanced ship, it still takes them nearly a decade to make a round trip to Baut. As a sign of our friendship, why don’t we put the courier ship at their disposal and suggest that they invite the leaders of Baut and Gossol to a summit aboard Cutlass?”
Christos mulled it over, it certainly sounded good, easier to break the news that their system of female superiority wasn’t applicable to the Commonwealth; if they were to be allies, there was no sense in hiding it from them much longer.
“OK, Nicholas, I’ll get the request off as soon as the briefing is over. Talking of which, I think it’s time we made our way down there and hear what Miss Johanson has to say. By the way, don’t you think that two hours was a little short to prepare a briefing for the staff?”
“I would have made it an hour but Mr. Walcott serves such a delightful Longjing that I just couldn’t resist a second cup.”
Christos sometimes couldn’t tell when Nicholas was being serious or sarcastic.
CHAPTER NINE
Somebody Else's War
FLAG BRIDGE – TDF RAPIER – CHARON BASE
ORBIT OF PLUTO – SOL SYSTEM
Rear Admiral Bruce Torrance allowed himself a moment of satisfaction as the ships of SurvFlot Two slowly pulled away from Charon Base and headed for clear space before engaging their gravity drives sending them on their way to 23 Librae, 83.7 light years from Earth. Like the majority of the star systems visited by the Saiph, information on 23 Librae was sketchy. Observations identified it as a G5 V-type star, a main sequence star that gave off the yellow hue typical of G-types. It was approximately 107 percent the size of Earth’s sun but much older, somewhere between 8.4 and 11.1 billion years old.
The Persai observation platform established there were seven planets in orbit around the star. Two of these planets had been identified by human astronomers as far back as 1999; one a gas giant much like Saturn but 1.6 times its mass; and in 2009 a second Saturn-like planet was discovered but it wasn’t until the Persai shared their platforms data with the rest of the Commonwealth that astronomers were able to get a definitive structure for the star system, and what they found was remarkable. Two planets were orbiting the star in a region that indicated they had liquid water on their surface and could be fully capable of bearing life. This was not the first star system that the Commonwealth had come across with more than one life-bearing planet in a single star system. Messier 54 had two such planets, Alona and Geta. But what made 23 Librae different was the Persai data that led scientists to believe that there were, in fact, two intelligent races in this one star system, each of which had evolved independently of the other. The xenobiologists were already expounding theories as to what differences or similarities they may find. Well, time to find out, thought Bruce.
“Communications. Has the flotilla reported ready?”
“All ships report ready to fold, Admiral.”
“Very well. Navigation. When you’re ready.”
“Aye-aye, sir. Three…Two…One…Fold!”
The familiar feeling of dislocation with the real world washed over Bruce, it passed as SurvFlot Two exited fold space and the collision alarm began to wail… all hell broke loose.
“Navigation. Status report!” shouted Bruce as his fingers flew over his own controls to bring up the navigational plot on his chair’s holo cube, but the young lieutenant at the navigator’s position got there before him. Bruce felt his seat restraints cut into his shoulders and waist as TDF Rapier rolled hard and its compensators fought to correct the sudden maneuver. The restraints slackened as the compensators caught up and Bruce’s brain began to analyze the data rolling across his repeater. Had they inadvertently arrived in an asteroid field? The Persai platform had shown this area of space located between two of the outermost planets well clear of any obstructions.
Bruce had to shout to be heard over the wailing alarm. “Communications! Update on the status of the flotilla please! I want to know if we’ve suffered any damage ASAP,” he paused before adding, “and will someone kill that damned alarm!”
Before the officer could answer, Rapier was rocked to her keel, Bruce felt his restraints bite once more. That was no asteroid impact, somebody was firing at them! Bruce’s brain went into overdrive and he began snapping orders in rapid-fire succession.
“Communications! Weapons free, flotilla-wide. Tactical – I need to know what the hell is going on here and quickly. Navigation – plot us a course out of here and standby to fold.”
“Admiral…” the tactical officer called. “Sensors are showing a single bogey at a range of… 5000 kilometers. The bogey fired some form of particle beam weapon at us. Engineering reports we suffered minimal damage. Bogey is maneuvering. I believe it is attempting to get broadside onto the Ericson. Possibly to bring its full armament to bear.”
&nbs
p; Ericson was one of Bruce’s three Vanguard survey ships, designed primarily for stealthy survey missions, not for combat. A particle beam that could rock a heavy cruiser like the Rapier could do a lot of damage to the much smaller Ericson. Any decision Bruce may have made was muted a few seconds later as the bogey fired and three particle beams hit the Ericson’s rear quarter. It turned its engineering section into a mass of twisted metal and venting atmosphere.
In Bruce’s tactical display, the icon for the Ericson began to blink blood-red. “Communications, warn that ship off. Tactical, move the Claymore and the Mosi into position to support the Ericson. If it looks like that bogey is about to fire again, I want it wiped from space.”
“Sir! I have Captain Ray on secure link.”
Bruce punched a control and the face of Foster Ray, captain of the Ericson, appeared in the holo cube.
“What’s the damage, Foster?” Bruce saw the smoke-shrouded bridge behind Foster and heard the background shouts of officers trying to regain control of their ship.
Foster shook his head slowly. “Not good, Admiral. Engineering is gone. Damage control can’t even get in to check for survivors and I fear the worst. Without engineering I have no propulsion and we’re operating on emergency power for life support. Weapons control is damaged but my XO believes that given a few hours he can have that back on line, but the power lines to the reactors are pretty much shot and that’s not a job we can repair without yard help…” Foster looked at Bruce with dejection. Foster knew that his ship was finished. It would only take one more broadside from the bogey to kill Foster and his remaining crew.
“Captain, wipe your computers, set your scuttling charges and abandon ship.” Bruce could see that Foster wanted to argue with him but Foster knew the reality of the situation and his shoulders slumped in resignation.
“Aye-aye sir.”
Bruce cut the link and turned to the tactical officer. “OK, Guns, what’s the bogey up to?”
“Bogey’s creeping closer to the Ericson. Power readings indicate that its weapons systems are still powered up. Computer has identified at least three heavy particle beam emitters, although from their configuration I’d bet there is at least another two we haven’t identified yet. The armor of our cruisers should be able to handle the beam’s output but unfortunately as seen by the damage to the Ericson it’s easily a match for our lighter units. Bogey’s approximately the size of an Agis class destroyer. As far as propulsion goes, it’s shown it’s capable of moving at a quarter the speed of light during maneuvers. Engineering is analyzing the power readings and will hopefully be able to give us a better estimate of its design limits. As far as its intentions, I’d guess it’s trying to get as close to the Ericson as it can so it can use it as a shield to stop us firing on it.”
That all made sense. On the tactical repeater Bruce saw smaller icons begin to shoot away from the Ericson. That would be the life pods containing the surviving crew. The bogey shifted its position and before anyone could react it was amongst the scattering life pods and magnetic grapples shot out from its hull and snared four of the pods and began reeling them in remorselessly. Whoever crewed the bogey now had hostages.
#
The next hour seemed to crawl by. All the remaining life pods from the Ericson had been recovered and their occupants were safely aboard the Claymore and Mosi. All except the four taken aboard the ship which had fired on the Ericson. Their current situation was unknown. The bogey had just sat still in space, making no attempt to move or to communicate with the Commonwealth flotilla that now surrounded it.
Bruce stared at the image in his repeater. The snub nose of the bogey had two large particle beam projectors protruding from it. The sleek shape and gray color scheme reminded Bruce of a shark. Small boxes disturbed the smooth skin at regular intervals. Fire and control points for its weapons systems theorized the Tactical Officer. At regular intervals along the waist were smaller weapons points. Small enough to be area denial weapons or anti-missile weapons. Near the rear of the ship there was a cluster of weapons points, presumably to defend the drive system, which was housed in what could only be described as an inverted fin that dropped some twenty metres below the main body of the ship. All in all, it made for a lethal-looking ship.
Bruce smacked his hand on his armrest in frustration. He knew next to nothing about the ship that held his men. Although he hadn’t ordered it, he knew that in the marine spaces they were already preparing contingency plans to storm the ship and rescue the captives but without a lot more intelligence a rescue mission was worse than foolhardy. All attempts at communication with the bogey had failed. If there was no movement soon, Bruce would be forced to send in his marines. He would not leave people behind.
“Admiral, incoming call from the bogey.”
Bruce span to his holo cube and an image coalesced. A young, obviously frightened crew member appeared. A nasty-looking welt on her right cheek. Her survival suit showed the name Childers, A. Bruce felt his anger rise at the sight of the injured crew member and it took all his willpower to keep it in check.
“Childers, are you all right?”
The crew member glanced at something or someone outside of the camera’s field of view before replying and Bruce saw the fear in her eyes. “Admiral…sir. There are three of us here. Lieutenant Medina’s life pod must have been damaged.” Childers’ eyes dropped to the floor for a second and when she looked back up there was the glint of a tear. “She was dead when they opened her pod.”
Bruce could tell that the young woman was struggling to hold it together.
“It’s OK, Childers, there was nothing you could do. What about the other two with you? How are they?”
Childers’ face broke into a satisfied smile. “PO Gambee came out fighting, sir. It took five of them just to hold him down. They tied him up but he’s OK. Crew member Yong isn’t in a good way though, sir. He wasn’t conscious when they took him out of the life pod and I don’t know where they took him…I don’t know if he’s still alive, sir.” Childers started to tremble and Bruce could see that she was on the verge of losing it.
“Childers, you need to hold it together. I promise you, we will get you out of there. You and Gambee and Young. I’m not leaving here without you. Do you understand me, Childers?”
The trembling slowly subsided and Childers wiped at her eyes. “Yes, sir.”
“What about your captors, Childers? What can you tell me about them?”
A fleeting confused expression passed over the crew member’s face. “Sir… I got the feeling that they expected someone else when they opened the life pod’s hatch. When the hatch opened they dragged me out and I thought it was all over.” Childers touched the large welt on her cheek. “That’s how I got this. I banged my face on the pod bulkhead on the way out. I always was a bit clumsy.” A small smile came to her lips. “But sir, when they got a good look at me they seemed… startled. That’s when PO Gambee started struggling with them and they just tied me up and dumped me in a cell with the PO. We had a couple of visitors. I think one of them was a doctor of some kind because he took skin and blood samples but otherwise they’ve left us alone. When they came to my cell this time and dragged me out I thought… I thought it was all over, sir but then they stuck me in front of this contraption and linked me to you. I don’t get it, sir. They haven’t spoken to us at all. I… I don’t know what they want me to say?”
Bruce didn’t get the chance to ask another question as the image of the crew member cut away and was replaced with that of a gray-skinned, lightly scaled alien. The large bulbous head shaped like an oval ball, the jet-black eyes set widely apart and what looked like breathing holes set high in the forehead. A small slit below the eyes lay slightly open.
The alien stared into the camera lens as if searching deep into Bruce’s soul before the small slit opened wide and a deep growling tone escaped its lip-less mouth. The image disappeared as the link was cut.
“Admiral we’re receiving a data
packet from the bogey. I’ll forward it to linguistics for analysis but from my initial take, I’d say that it’s a language file.”
Bruce sat back in his chair and considered this turn of events. The aliens had three of his crew members and two of them appeared to be unharmed. How Yong was faring was unknown. Now the aliens had sent a language file. Were they trying to establish a dialog with him? Childers had said it appeared the aliens were surprised when they had found her in the life pod, so who had they been expecting?
“Communications, compile an English language packet and transmit it to the bogey. Tactical, I want a complete sensor sweep of this system. Primarily I want to know if our friends out there are the only space-faring race.”
Bruce touched a control on his armrest and after a slight pause, he was connected to Ambassador Isa, head of SurvFlot Two’s diplomatic mission. “Ambassador, there’s been an interesting development in our standoff with the bogey and I would like to discuss it with you as I believe that it may fall more within your purview than mine.”
Amber Isa cocked one fine eyebrow above heavy-lidded eyes. “Do we have an update on the crew members from the life pods?” Her softly spoken question was edged with concern.
The image of the bruised face of Childers came fleetingly to Bruce’s mind as took a small breath before answering. “As far as we know, we have one fatality but the other three are alive.”
Amber looked into the gaunt face of Bruce for a moment, his usual self-assuredness had taken a knock but beneath it, Amber could see his resolve hardening into something else. A determination to secure the release of his people. “And how can I be of assistance, Admiral?”
“It was something Childers said to me. That when the life pods were opened the aliens seemed surprised. Like they’d been expecting to find someone else inside. Ambassador, I think they fired on us more by knee-jerk reaction rather than by intention. I think we’ve wandered into someone else’s war.”