by Britt Ringel
However, the imperative of escape surely did not apply while on a Hollaran ship in tunnel space, regardless of the state of the alliance with her crew. In her current condition, Selvaggio doubted she could walk far, let alone run. Moreover, she was not a shuttle pilot and Doctor Carter certainly did not act as if he were a prisoner. Resigned to make the best of her situation, she told herself that her duty was to rest, resist any mistreatment, learn about the Hollarans and Phoenix and recover enough physically so that, if “escape” presented itself, she could capitalize.
Her expectation of mistreatment never materialized. Without exception, each Hollaran crewmember treated Selvaggio more like a distinguished dignitary than an enemy POW. Her comfort seemed to be foremost in their minds with offers to get her anything she needed to make her time more comfortable on the ship. The empathy shown for Selvaggio’s peculiar situation was almost unnerving. Every Brevic citizen knew that Hollaran ambitions of conquest over the Republic drove their behavior but that truism was difficult to reconcile with the people on Phoenix. The crew hung on her every word with unconcealed enthusiasm for learning about Brevic culture. Selvaggio was embarrassed when she had casually mentioned how much she enjoyed New Roman cuisine, only to become inundated with specially-cooked meals from the crew. The meals brought to her were the closest to “home-cooking” she had eaten in a long time. She learned that with the exception of the Helike marine contingent, most of Phoenix’s crew hailed from New Roman star systems.
The frequency and tenor of the visits began to make Selvaggio feel a bit like a celebrity. The meetings all started the same, with trepidation and formal, cautious greetings. Once Selvaggio demonstrated any kind of courtesy, the non-stop questions began to flow. Questions asked about life in the Brevic Republic, questions asked about her Brevic culture, her customs and beliefs. Selvaggio tried her best to answer them truthfully but always parsed her answers before speaking them aloud. She knew that the Brevic Ministry of Intelligence would be giving her a long, and thorough, debriefing upon learning of her time on Phoenix. So far, she thought her answers would pass scrutiny. She had not spoken about military capabilities or tactics, said nothing negative about the actual Republic and, to her great relief, the decision to bring her on board to receive aid and comfort from the enemy had not been her own. She was quite hopeful that BMI would not hold that decision against her. Yet she still feared that the stigma of being on Phoenix, of owing her life to the Hollarans, might follow her through her whole career. Ultimately, she accepted the fact that if her time on Phoenix killed her career, at least it had saved her life. It was hard to dwell on the negative when in near-continuous company of enthusiastic, friendly and seemingly genuine people.
When Porucznik Karalis visited with news of Komandor Lombardi’s offer to tour the bridge, Selvaggio was dumbstruck. In all her studies at the academy, she could not recall one situation where a Brevic officer had been invited to a Hollaran naval vessel’s bridge. She accepted immediately, surprised that her first thought was a fervent hope that she would not do anything to embarrass herself or the Brevic military rather than the possible intelligence coup the visit might provide. Karalis scheduled the tour to take place the next day, on what would be their sixth day in tunnel space.
Chapter 11
The Terran fleet’s journey through the tunnel from Iocaste lasted just short of six days. Its end marked the third week fleeing the aliens that pursued them from Kale.
Heskan bit down hard as he struggled to regain control over his faculties immediately after the transition to n-space. His vision cleared and he searched the system plot while Truesworth announced, “We’ve completed our dive, Captain. All ships have arrived and are in formation. No beacon active at this tunnel point.”
The system plot quickly exploded with information. The system contained a K1V orange star. The star’s temperature created a zone of habitability smaller than Sol’s but still substantial enough to allow for one of the first gas giant’s large, terrestrial moons to support life. The other seven planets in the system, as well as their satellites, were clearly not habitable due to extreme temperatures or deadly atmospheres.
The single moon, however, looked to have enough life to fill the system. Although the satellite was 43lm distant, two enormous ships were orbiting the blue and green body, barely discernible by Kite’s optics. Additionally, Truesworth’s station panel lit up as Kite’s sensitive sensor suite picked up thousands of transmissions emanating from the moon. Farther from the heart of the solar system, the blips of functional tunnel points began to highlight on the screen. One by one, type-A tunnel point symbols painted themselves onto the display. The count stopped when it reached five.
“The system is definitely a major tunnel point junction,” Vernay noted.
“Captain,” Truesworth said as he worked furiously at his console, “we’re picking up heavy comm traffic. Nothing directed toward us, just a huge amount of messages from that moon and between ships in orbit.” He leaned away slightly from his station before saying to no one, “How can they make sense of all that?”
“Is this a Parasite system?” Heskan asked impatiently. “We need to know fast, Jack.” From the corner of his eye, his station flashed at him. It was Lombardi on the squadron net. Heskan quickly acknowledged and waited for the message.
Komandor Lombardi’s voice came over his shocksuit helmet’s speakers, and it was filled with alarm. “To all ships, Phoenix has positively identified the vessels orbiting the habitable moon as Parasite super-carriers. We will head toward the closest tunnel point at point two-C. Phoenix is sending sailing instructions now.”
Heskan searched the system plot. True to her word, Lombardi was steering them toward the nearest tunnel point, 32lm away. Directionally, their course of travel would be toward Brevic space. He then noticed a tunnel point to Kite’s port, leading toward Hollaran space but 35lm distant. Just fifteen minutes travel time. That’s the difference between the choice of destination from here to the two tunnel points at point two-C. His stomach churned as he watched the individual symbols of each Hollaran ship in the squadron. The decision has been made; the die cast. They now know that they’re going to Brevic space. Will the fleet hold together?
“Receiving sailing instructions, Captain,” Ensign Meyer said. She let out an audible sigh of relief as she said, “We’re turning to starboard, sir. We’re heading toward home.”
Heskan’s gaze never strayed from the plot even as cheers erupted around him. He saw Phoenix’s tactical symbol begin her slow rotation toward the “eastern” tunnel point. Nimble Nuno rotated quickly, matching her flagship’s heading. All eyes turned to Vaettir. Heskan’s jawed dropped as Vaettir matched Phoenix’s course. I’ll be damned. Even Christova is following. Heskan felt a surge of pride rise within him. For all the hostility between him and Lombardi, between him and me, his whole opinion of this alliance, he still is professional enough not to break up the squadron’s integrity. His stomach flipped as a stray thought entered his mind. Would Arnold have done that?
“Jessie,” Vernay asked, “who will win the race to the tunnel point?”
Heskan saw the orbital position of the first gas giant essentially formed the top of an isosceles triangle with the bottom points consisting of the Iocaste tunnel point and the fleet’s destination tunnel point. The aliens are forty-three light-minutes from us. At point three-five-C, will their cutters reach us? His hand worked his chair arm console. Two hours and eight minutes. We’re going to fall thirty-eight minutes short. He frowned but immediately shook himself. Wait! They’ll need forty-three minutes for our tunnel space disturbance to reach them and alert them to our presence. We’ll beat them to the tunnel point by about six minutes. Kite projected a 123ls interval would exist between the fleet and the cutters expected to pursue from the moon by the time she escaped the system. Any pursuing super-carrier would be roughly 16lm from the tunnel point at that time.
Thirty seconds later, Ensign Meyer answered, “We should, ma’
am. But it’s close.” She flashed her computations onto the system plot. The information matched Heskan’s own calculations.
Vernay turned to Heskan. “We have a fight on our hands. No doubt about it.”
“The question is,” Heskan replied, “do we do it in this system or when we enter the next?” Heskan sat back and considered the possibilities. No good reason to fight here and no point in waiting for the aliens to catch up to us. However, we have no idea what we’ll encounter in the next system. A thought occurred to him. “Jack, I want a complete sensor sweep around the tunnel point we’re sailing toward. Then, I want the most direct and obvious routes from that tunnel point back to the planet swept. I know it’s a long shot to see anything but I want to know if that’s a sailing lane for the Parasites.”
Truesworth acknowledged and busied himself at his console while talking into his helmet mic. Heskan saw the entire Terran fleet was now oriented toward its destination and watched as the tactical plot drew increasingly longer vector lines for each ship in the fleet. We’re going home, Heskan thought. He looked at the twin super-carrier symbols orbiting the planet. We can’t take them with us.
* * *
Despite being characteristically early to all previous meetings, Heskan had rushed himself and Vernay to the conference room. He had feared being late but connected to the squadron network to find himself the first person present, not counting Lieutenant Vernay’s simultaneous connection. She looked at him from across the table with a “told you so” expression.
Minutes later, the other three non-flagship captains logged in. Oddly, Lombardi and her first officer entered last. To Heskan’s great delight, an extra panel appeared alongside Lombardi and Kapitan Valokov. That panel revealed Lieutenant Selvaggio’s smiling face and he now understood what had delayed the fleet commander.
The komandor, also smiling, said, “I thought your crew would like to know Lieutenant Selvaggio has recovered from her attack, Commander. As you can see, she is ready to be returned to Kite when the squadron can reduce to a suitable speed.” She cast a sideways glance at the Brevic officer, obviously sitting next to her in their conference room. “Unfortunately, that may not be until the next system, given the present situation.” She dipped her head penitently.
Heskan cringed despite himself. Oh boy, Selvaggio is a loose cannon given her hatred of the Hollies, not to mention her opinion of this particular commanding officer. “Uh,” Heskan started timidly, “Lieutenant, will you be okay?”
“Absolutely, Captain,” Selvaggio replied easily. Heskan and Vernay exchanged astonished looks that were picked up by the conference cameras, causing Selvaggio to laugh. “Captain, I have a written report which I’ll send over to Kite. It might clear up some simple confusion on a few low action items, like station-keeping, etcetera, and don’t worry, Captain, I’m being treated just fine here. I know, I know…” She shrugged. “Doctor Carter made it clear that the Hollarans saved my life. They’ve been nothing but accommodating to me since I’ve been awake.” Another shrug followed by an almost apologetic look. “I know… I keep waiting for, well, interrogations, but so far it’s just been a non-stop line of authentically cooked meals.” She looked at Lombardi and then said in a jesting voice, “Maybe the torture comes with the dessert?”
Lombardi shot a winning look at Lieutenant Vernay’s panel. This time Vernay received the “told you so” expression. “Lieutenant Selvaggio has been a most valuable and pleasant guest on Phoenix. She is welcome here.” She chuckled slightly and continued, “Judging by the resurgence of Hollaran fascination with Brevic culture, she is more than welcome here.” She returned her attention to Heskan. “In fact, Commander, I would like permission to return her back to duty status as a liaison officer on my bridge. Having a Brevic officer to answer questions that may arise during combat would be of enormous value.” She repeated, “With your permission, Commander.”
Heskan, still shocked by Selvaggio’s easy manner, stared blankly but eventually heard himself mumble, “Granted. Of course, Komandor. That’s a wise use of resources.”
He heard Vernay comment, “It makes sense.” Ever the opportunist, she quickly added, “In fact, Captain… we could use one.”
A Hollie on Kite’s bridge? Heskan questioned, stupefied. Then, as he weighed the benefits, he told himself, Don’t look back, Garrett. Don’t think you know the way through, know you do. “My first officer makes a good point. Perhaps, if we get the breathing space and you can find some volunteers, we could arrange an exchange program, Komandor. I’ll guarantee their safety.”
Lombardi gave Heskan a thoughtful look but Valokov’s counseling could be heard next to her. “I know several who would volunteer, Komandor… and that is just on Phoenix.”
“Agreed,” she decided. “We can arrange this once we have dealt with the immediate problem.” With her statement, the tactical plot opened on each attendee’s wall screen or conference table screen. An alien super-carrier was breaking orbit from the moon accompanied by thousands of cutters. The cutters seemed to be gathering near the super-carrier instead of racing headlong toward the Terrans as individual ships.
“Does Phoenix have an accurate count on the cutters?” Heskan asked.
“Not yet,” Lombardi replied. “At this distance, we are having difficulty counting discrete ships as they lift off from the moon’s surface but our estimates place the number at over two thousand. My sensor officer believes the cutters we are seeing are coming purely from the moon. Some are attaching to the super-carrier, others are not.”
“Meaning the super-carrier will have a full complement of cutters when it attacks,” Arnold surmised.
Lombardi nodded. “Worse yet, the cutters not attaching to the carrier are massing into one force instead of coming at us individually.” She looked at Vernay’s panel. “This would seem to further confirm our theories about a higher level of intelligence commanding their cutters from the carrier.”
“It is too many,” Christova concluded. “We cannot possibly fight off that many at once, not with the effectiveness of their tactics against us.”
Heskan looked around the panels on his wall screen and saw the desperate expressions of his fellow ship captains. It’s the worst-case scenario for us. All of us are shaken. As his gaze moved to Lombardi, he saw she was making the same analysis. I’ve got to turn this around or the battle will be lost before it’s even begun. We need to get past this panic and start planning what to do. “Stephan, do you really think the Parasite tactics have been that effective?”
Annoyance flickered across Christova’s face before he replied, “They have annihilated one of our task forces and they have decimated our own combined force. I would say they pretty much have us on the run.”
Heskan tried a different approach. “How would you characterize a space fleet that lost thousands of its own ships to destroy a single enemy ship?”
Christova shook his head. “I know what you are trying to do, Commander, but this is different.” He pointed at the Parasite ships on the tactical plot. “They do not consider losses like we do. Those ships eventually achieve their goal regardless of the cost. They are doing exactly what they were meant to do.”
“Are they?” Heskan wondered aloud. “I keep thinking back to what Lieutenant Vernay said in Kale when we first watched our fighters merge with their cutters.” He looked across the table at his first officer.
Vernay peered back with a puzzled expression. After a few moments she answered, “Um, ‘Oh my God, there’s too many of them, we’re all gonna die?’”
Nervous laughter broke over the meeting. When it died down, Heskan said, “I think that’s what we all were thinking but what you actually said was ‘I can’t believe they really don’t have lasers.’” He looked back to Komandor Christova. “This race is clearly intelligent. How could they not put any weapons on their attack ships or even their super-carrier? We’ve seen infected crewmembers use weapons so it’s not like they don’t understand the principle.”
“That’s my point,” Heskan said, interrupting the junior komandor. “Attack ships do mount weaponry.”
Christova opened his mouth to reply but closed it when the meaning of Heskan’s words struck him. He remained silent for several moments. Finally Lombardi asked, “Are you are saying that these cutters are not attack craft?”
Heskan nodded grimly. “How would you characterize those unarmed craft as we watch them lift off from the moon, ferrying their passengers to that huge ship?”
Lombardi rocked back in her chair. “Interesting. I would call them shuttles, and that huge ship not a super-carrier but a transport.” Her eyes widened and she turned to stare directly at Heskan’s panel. “Or perhaps a passenger ship.”
Arnold broke in. “Are you two suggesting that these ships are unarmed non-combatants?”
“They certainly seem combative to me,” Vernay added.
“Not non-combatants,” Lombardi answered. “These ships may be the equivalent of our marine troop transports.”
Christova looked skeptical. “Meaning…?”
“Meaning,” Heskan answered, “these ships were never designed to fight in space. It’s possible this entire race hasn’t focused on space dominance but on planetary assaults.”
“That makes sense,” Vernay said. “The Parasites’ main objective has been to use us as disposable tools. How many people are on the largest ship we know? Under ten thousand?”
“Far less for civilian ships,” Nuno’s captain chimed in.
Vernay nodded. “And boarding actions cost hundreds or thousands of their own cutters. Moreover, how many ships do they actually successfully capture? So far, we’ve managed to self-destruct every ship we’ve lost in a boarding action. How profitable is that?”