Defying the Prophet: A Military Space Opera (The Sentience Trilogy Book 2)

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Defying the Prophet: A Military Space Opera (The Sentience Trilogy Book 2) Page 26

by Gibson Michaels


  Kitty Litter System

  July 23rd, 3865

  “All right, ladies and gentlemen,” said a thoroughly discouraged Fleet Admiral Roger Kalis. “We’ve been over this from every conceivable angle and we’re right back at square one. As much as I personally detest the idea of wholesale slaughter of sentient, intelligent beings, it just isn’t morally feasible to trade the lives of hundreds of thousands of our Fleet Marines in order to save lives of a predatory species which wantonly attacked us without provocation. If it were possible to avoid this, I would… but we seem to have no choice but saturation bombardment of all cat installations on the planet’s surface.”

  Kalis had hoped that his admirals and their staffs could come up with something… anything that might work in gaining control of the planet below, without incurring or inflicting hundreds of thousands of deaths. Unfortunately, all the alternatives they’d come up with required some kind of communications be established with the enemy, and communications with the aliens was one thing they did NOT have. So they here they were, back to the extremes… black or white… life or death on a mass scale, for one side or the other… or both.

  Kalis felt dirty. He hadn’t even given the order to begin the bombardment and he already felt unclean in a way that all of his previous wars had not. This wasn’t war. It was more like exterminating vermin. But vermin didn’t develop star-drive capabilities.

  I didn’t put on this uniform to become a damned butcher!

  Kalis couldn’t concern himself with the welfare of the human prisoners taken from Minnos. No one knew exactly where the cats might be keeping them. If they had been on the station, they were already dead and beyond concern. If they were down on the planet, they soon would be. They were virtually all military people and therefore willing to forfeit their lives in trade for those of their comrades-in-arms, high above. At some point, any member of the military might be required to sacrifice their lives upon the alter of duty. It was just the realities that went with putting on the uniform. Military people understood that and accepted it, along with all of the other sacrifices involved in defending their country.

  Resigning himself to the necessity of issuing such a distasteful order, Kalis girded his emotional loins and…

  Now hear this! Admiral Kalis to the bridge. Urgent! — I repeat… Fleet Admiral Kalis, to the bridge, immediately. Urgent!

  Kalis couldn’t help but glace up at the loudspeaker shouting his name. “Well, perhaps I should go see what’s going on,” Kalis said. “Fleet commanders, with me.”

  * * * *

  “Admiral on the bridge!” shouted the burly Confederate Fleet Marine sergeant standing watch at the hatch, as Fleet Admiral Kalis and the four other admirals commanding the combined fleets stepped through the hatchway into the big battleship’s combat information center.

  “As you were,” called Admiral Kalis. “What’s up, Sandy?”

  Captain Sandiford Wallace, commanding officer of the CSS Malice looked up from the ship’s communications console, where he had been looking over the communications officer’s shoulder and said, “We are receiving an incoming hail from the planet’s surface, asking to speak with the fleet commander, Admiral… in English.”

  Kalis raised an eyebrow at this unexpected development and perched himself into his command chair. “Has the caller been identified?”

  “No ID as yet, Admiral,” responded the communications officer. “But whoever it was, he sounded a bit tense. Transferring to your station now, sir.”

  Kalis nodded and when the light on his console lit, indicating that his comm was hot, he thumbed the talk button and said, “This is Fleet Admiral Roger Kalis, commanding officer of the combined fleets of humanity... go ahead.”

  There was a delay of about four seconds due to light-speed limitations before Kalis heard, “Admiral, this is Commander Lawrence Goodwin, commanding officer of the USS Daluth… Alliance Fleet, speaking to you from a prisoner of war camp on the planet’s surface. It appears that our captors wish to parley and they have requested that I initiate contact with you. They desire to know your intentions and terms for sparing the planet from incineration.”

  Kalis pursed his lips as he recalled that USS Daluth had been the name of the an Alliance frigate destroyed in the initial alien assault on Minnos. “It’s very good to hear from you, Commander. And it’s also good to hear our adversaries understand the hopelessness of their situation and their desire to avoid further, unnecessary bloodshed. Might I ask, how it is that you and the aliens are managing to communicate with one another?”

  “It’s been difficult to keep track of time since being captured, Admiral, but what felt like several months after we were transferred to their orbital station, the Raknii… that’s what they call their race… started growling into some kind of box we hadn’t seen before, and after a slight delay, a synthesized voice from the box spat out an antiquated, but mostly recognizable form of English,” replied Goodwin. “Evidently our responses are somehow retranslated back into the cat’s language, as the box then spits out growling that they can understand… one moment, Admiral.”

  Kalis considered what terms he considered vital, and what he could be lenient on, in order to help him build a foundation for establishing a long-term working relationship with these creatures. The better communications he could promote, the fewer of them he’d have to kill.

  It took over nine minutes before Commander Goodwin came back, “Sorry, Admiral… the ranking Raknii on the planet interrupted, requesting an explanation of the word ‘cats’ that I used during my last statement… I think I got across the idea that to human eyes, their physical appearance strongly resembles that of a familiar family of predators commonly found on human worlds, our propensity for using analogies and how we often have many different words in our language used in reference to the same subject, proper usage of which depends upon context. He requests that in the future, we use the terms ‘Raknii’ or ‘Rak’ when referring to his race, to avoid misunderstandings, due to ambiguity.”

  After the annoying light-speed delays, Kalis responded, “Very well, Commander. What is the proper title that we should use while addressing the Raknii officer holding the highest rank in this system?”

  “He says his title is ‘Planet-Master,’ Admiral.”

  “Thank you, Commander. Please record the following, in response to the planet-master’s earlier question, concerning my terms for NOT slaughtering his people en masse…”

  “One moment please, Admiral.”

  Kalis waited while they made preparations for the recording of Kalis’ formal terms of surrender. “Comm, make sure you get a recording of this for a transcription of our own.”

  “Aye, aye, Admiral!” responded the communications officer.

  A few minutes later, Kalis heard: “Recording now, Admiral,” from Commander Goodwin on the planet’s surface.

  “Very well,” said Kalis. “The people of the United Stellar Alliance, the independent planet Sextus and the Confederate Stellar Accord demand the following terms of the local Rak authorities, in return for allowing the peaceful surrender of the planet to combined fleet authority, and avoidance of further military operations that surely would result in the extermination of the Raknii people on the planet’s surface:

  1. All hostilities between Raknii and human forces in this system will cease immediately.

  2. All heavy weapons and assault weapons designed for the purpose of conducting ground combat operations currently in possession of Raknii ground troops are to be confiscated and turned over to our Fleet Marines at specific times and places to be determined in further negotiations at a later date. Light hand weapons in appropriate numbers may be retained by the Raknii as necessary, for the specific purpose of policing violent crime and maintaining order amongst their citizenry.

  3. All interstellar craft capable of faster-then-light propulsion are to be surrendered or destroyed, subject to human verification.

  4. A binding agreement prohibiting
aggressive or violent acts against human beings or human property will be mandatory.

  5. The Raknii will agree to establish their own autonomous authority for governance of all Raknii citizens and planetary areas under Raknii residence, including standard municipal utility projects such as water, sewer and power generation and distribution facilities.

  6. A designated ambassador will be named by both races to act as the personal representative of the highest level of Raknii and human authority, who will then reside amongst the opposite race and be constantly available for immediate consultations with both the human and Raknii planetary governors, as necessary. The personal safety of these ambassadors will be inviolate and guaranteed by the security forces of the race opposite that which said ambassador is representing.

  7. A designated meeting place where problems and issues common to both races can be discussed and resolved by a bipartisan commission consisting of authorized representatives of both races, will be built at a mutually agreed location to be determined by further negotiations at a later date.

  8. All humans currently under detention by Raknii forces are to be released to our Fleet Marine forces as soon as practicable.

  9. One half of all Raknii/English translator devices for both verbal and written forms of communications and available documentation currently held by the Raknii will be surrendered to human authorities to facilitate communications and better understanding between the two races.

  10. Any and all issues which cannot be resolved by mutual agreement through discussions and negations will be subject to final judgment and disposition by the human military governor, designated by the commander of the combined fleets.

  “As for our intentions here, tell the planet-master that I intend to construct multiple fighter bases for the defense of this system. These bases will be positioned well away from Rak installations and settlements, and any interference from the Raknii to the construction or continuing operation of these bases will not be tolerated.”

  “Stand by, Admiral… I think that’s a lot for them to digest.”

  * * * *

  Chapter-28

  A peace is of the nature of a conquest; for then both parties nobly are subdued, and neither party loser. -- William Shakespeare

  The Planetoid Discol, City of Waston

  July 23rd, 3865

  Alliance Press (AP): Waston – News Flash (07/23/65)

  Revenge for Minnos! — President Arlene McAllister announced this morning that the allied combined fleet of humanity has successfully crushed an enemy alien fleet of over 43,000 warships at the forward staging area, from which they launched their unprovoked, surprise attack on the Alliance planet of Minnos in June of 3863. It is reported that the entire star system is now so littered with millions of small pieces of orbiting wreckage, from the over 50,000 alien vessels destroyed there, the planet has been named Kitty Litter by universal acclaim of the members of the combined fleets.

  “On July 3, 3865, Fleet Admiral Roger Kalis and the combined fleets waged an incredibly successful campaign against our alien enemies, which destroyed over 27,000 enemy warships and sent the remaining 16,000 fleeing the system in headlong retreat. The combined fleets also destroyed a very large enemy orbital base and an estimated 26,000 enemy transports and auxiliary vessels,” said the president. “It took us two long, frustrating years to finally locate and destroy the alien forward base, from which they attacked Minnos, but at long last, mankind has struck back against our enemy and inflicted a crushing defeat on the alien invaders.”

  The president then went on to say, “This may be the crowning achievement of Admiral Kalis’ legendary career, as he managed to inflict such extraordinary casualties on such a powerful enemy, while suffering fewer than 50 dead and 200 wounded of his own. Never have so few suffered so little, while inflicting so much on so many. I doubt we’ll ever see its like again.

  “The alien threat has been pushed back from humanity’s doorstep and the people of the Alliance and indeed, all mankind, offer the brave warriors of the combined fleets our eternal gratitude and respect for their astonishing accomplishment. Their recent exploit stands as a shining example of the best that mankind has to offer, and of what we can achieve, when we truly stand together in the spirit of cooperation, united in purpose and resolve.”

  * * * *

  The Rak Planet Golgathal

  July 24th, 3865

  Planet-Master Mral looked up in wonder, after carefully reading the transcript of the human terms of surrender for the fourth time. Even after so many readings, he still couldn’t believe their terrible enemy could possibly be so magnanimous. There was simply nothing in it that mentioned requiring Raknii slave laborers at all.

  How is that possible? The weak serve the strong. It is the way of nature… a fundamental law of the universe.

  Yet, when he’d questioned the two ranking human prisoners about it, both claimed that humans no longer sanctioned or utilized slavery whatsoever, as it was now considered a terrible and deviant crime amongst them.

  Incredible… is it possible that this human taboo against slavery is so strong as to extend even to the Raknii, as though we were of the same race?

  Indeed, the human terms were unbelievably lenient for a defeated foe — almost complete autonomy. The humans were allowing the Rak to govern themselves, without interference, and to share the planet with them peacefully. Essentially, if the Raknii left the humans alone, the humans would leave the Raknii alone. Granted, aside from the exchange of “ambassadors” and that odd bipartisan counsel idea, for the resolving of conflicts and addressing common problems, it appeared that Rak and humans would actually interact very little.

  Mral activated his comm: “Prison-Master Swaq.”

  “I will summon the prison-master for you, Planet-Master,” responded Swaq’s deputy, on duty in his office.

  While waiting for Swaq to appear, Mral continued to ponder the riddle of these humans. The Raknii were literally on their backs in submission, with their bellies exposed to the human’s claws and their throats exposed to the human’s fangs, yet strangely these terrible aliens drew no blood in retribution… exacted no revenge, nor demanded any forced servitude.

  Strange indeed.

  These terms were shockingly reminiscent of how the victor of Raknii challenge-dominance combat treated a vanquished equal, who admitted defeat and assumed the vulnerable position, in submission to the victor. No further violence was necessary, so none was inflicted... dominance had been established between them.

  How is it possible that these terrible, gigantic aliens, who have neither fangs nor claws, seem to understand these thing and now appear to treat the Raknii as submissive members of their own pride, now that dominance between us has been established?

  Mral’s door boomed twice, from being struck by the heel of a Raknii paw. Then Swaq opened it and stepped into the office. “You required my presence, Planet-Master?”

  “Yes… reestablish communications with our human conquerors and have the senior prisoners inform their commander that we have reviewed their terms and find them wholly acceptable. As Planet-Master and senior ranking Raknii remaining in this system, I formally agree to their terms on behalf of the Raknii citizens on this planet. I will require seven turns to complete the process of disarming our assault troops. Inform them that at the expiration of this period, we will patiently await the arrival of their ground forces to take formal possession of this facility, and control of all human prisoners we have in our possession.”

  “At once, Planet-Master!” Swaq turned and began to comply when Mral thought of something else.

  “And, Swaq…”

  Swaq paused and turned back. “Yes, Planet-Master?”

  “Have them inform their commander that I humbly request, and would be greatly honored, if he could see fit to personally accompany his troops. I greatly desire to perceive with my own eyes what sort of extraordinary creature it is, who is ferocious enough to decimate the Rak fleet, gentle enough
to craft such generous surrender terms… and yet incomprehensible enough to treat helpless enemies as his own pride.”

  * * * *

  The Planetoid Discol, City of Waston

  July 27th, 3865

  “So, what’s happening in the galaxy this morning, Hal?”

  You finally caring again, Diet? You’ve been all “funked-up” for months now.

  “Yea, well… sorry about that. Bad pun, by the way.”

  Aw… and here I thought I’d been making great strides towards conquering that strange idiosyncrasy you humans call “humor.”

  “Humans make bad puns all the time. It’s an entire genre in comedy and the worse they are, the better. Sometimes we even hold contests to see who can come up with the biggest groaners… worst pun wins.”

  Hmm… now I’m getting concerned. I think I might have actually understood that.

  “About time. Now, since I think I might have finally succeeded in pulling my head out of my ass for a while, what’s up?”

  Word from Kitty Litter just arrived with news that the aliens have accepted Admiral Kalis’ terms for surrendering the planet. Their human prisoners are tentatively scheduled for release to Fleet Marines on the 31st. Kalis intends to turn Kitty Litter into a giant internment camp for all alien prisoners, including those taken at Minnos and also those captured in future engagements, pending President McAllister’s approval.

  “Any chance, she won’t?”

  Infinitesimal… President McAllister is generally inclined towards letting Kalis take the lead on the conduct of the war. She’s primarily focused on expanding the Alliance’s industrial base to manufacture the weapons needed to conduct a protracted war, over incredibly long distances, as she’s convinced the aliens have a massive industrial base, which will eventually catch up to us in technology, and surpass us in military construction.

  “Do you agree with that assessment?”

 

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