by Tori Harris
"You will be pleased to learn that she is exhausted from her ordeal, but otherwise uninjured. She is still working with our medical staff at the moment, but I would be happy to arrange for you to speak with her shortly if you like," Prescott offered.
"That is a generous offer, Captain, and I thank you, but it won’t be necessary at this time. Please forgive the intrusion, but we were able to scan your vessel as soon as we arrived and were gratified to see that she is being well cared for. We went to extraordinary lengths to assure her survival, even in the event that all thirteen of our vessels were destroyed. For your safety and hers, I ask that you keep her presence among your people as one of your most guarded secrets. She is in possession of a device that will render her biological signature impossible to differentiate from a Human if your vessel or indeed your entire planet is scanned. She has been instructed to keep it activated and in her possession at all times while she is visiting your people."
"As you might imagine, Admiral, we have a few safety protocols that we are obliged to follow, but rest assured she will be treated as an honored guest," Prescott said, wondering if the egghead exobiologists back at Fleet HQ would be able to resist incessantly poking and prodding Nenir, honored guest or not. "Can I infer from your asking us to keep her presence a secret that whoever destroyed your ships would not be happy for Humans to be harboring a member of your species?"
"I’m afraid that is a bit of an understatement, my friend," Naftur replied, shaking his head. "Before I elaborate further, please know that I recognize the awkward nature of the situation you find yourself in. We are aware of your relationship, in a manner of speaking, with the Pelarans." Naftur paused to allow the significance of this statement to register with Prescott before continuing. "I do not expect you to respond in any way to that statement, Captain. Clearly, such a relationship is classified at the highest levels, and protected by implicit agreement with the Pelarans as well. We need not discuss your relationship with them at this time. What I must do, however, is provide you with information that your Terran Fleet Command’s leadership can utilize as they see fit. This is the third, and perhaps most important task I was sent here to accomplish."
"I am pleased to accept any message or other information you would like to convey and will deliver it immediately," Prescott said, relieved that he had not been asked to respond to the admiral’s assertions regarding the Pelarans. He had assumed from the beginning of their conversation that the destruction of the Wek fleet had at least something to do with Earth’s odd relationship with the Pelarans and their dramatic acceleration of Humanity’s technological expertise. Just as the admiral had said, discussions that even skirted the general topic of such extremely sensitive information were forbidden. This was true even when the conversation was with other officers back at TFC Headquarters, let alone newly encountered extraterrestrial military personnel.
The admiral raised his eyebrows in an earnest expression and continued, "Now, I must give you the opportunity to refuse the risks associated with our new relationship. I would be less than honest if I told you I had any idea of the potential impact on Terra’s relationship with the Pelarans. It is the opinion of the Sajeth Collective that the Pelarans are unlikely to attack your world if they learn of our relationship. They might very well discontinue further contact, however, which I believe your Terran Fleet Command might deem undesirable, even if it might be in the best interest of your world in the long run. Unfortunately, I must place the burden of this decision on your shoulders, young Captain. I have …" Naftur turned in his seat to check his ship’s chronometer, "less than five minutes before Gresav must flee the Sol system or risk being intercepted and destroyed. I regret that I cannot delay my departure long enough for you to consult your leadership. If you believe the risk is unacceptable, I simply ask that you allow Nenir to transfer to my ship and we will be on our way."
Prescott smiled as he replied, "Admiral, as you pointed out, I am not at liberty to confirm, deny, or discuss any of Earth’s interactions with other species. What I do feel comfortable telling you is that, whether it’s a wise course of action or not, we Humans are not generally known for allowing others to make decisions on our behalf. Whom we choose to develop relationships with is entirely our business, and doing so is one of Terran Fleet Command’s primary missions. I also can’t imagine ignoring the tremendous sacrifice your people have made today in order to make contact with us."
"You honor their sacrifice simply by agreeing to speak with us, Captain Prescott. The reasons for our willingness to take such a risk will become clearer to your people as time goes on. Now, I must prepare to depart. My communications specialist has indicated that our systems appear to be capable of exchanging data securely. I’m sure you have procedures in place for such an exchange just as we do, so I will leave the details to our respective experts. One thing I would like to ask in return, however, is for lexical data from your communications systems. We have done our best to acquire as much information regarding your languages as possible, but significant gaps still remain."
"We will be happy to provide that data, Admiral. It is part of our standard first contact package, which has never been used prior to today. We will see that it is transmitted immediately."
"Thank you, Captain Prescott. My life has spanned over three hundred Terran years, but this is the first time I have had the pleasure of conducting a first contact mission. I am unable to fully express what an honor it has been."
"Likewise, Admiral Naftur," Prescott bowed. "I hope we have the opportunity to spend more time together at our next meeting."
"I would like that of all things, Captain. One last thing, Nenir will be able to instruct you on how you may contact us when you are ready to do so. It is impossible to predict the chain of events that will ultimately result from her working with you, but we will initiate contact again in one month if we have not heard from you before then."
"Understood. Safe journey, Admiral."
"To you as well, Captain."
"Transmission terminated, Captain," Lieutenant Dubashi said as the view screen returned to an image of the Gresav. "I am ready to initiate transfer; full isolation protocols are in place for all incoming data."
"Make it so, Ensign."
On the view screen, the Gresav rotated in place then raised her bow and immediately began increasing the range from Ingenuity before engaging her hyperdrive engines.
"Data exchange complete, Captain. They sent a lot of data," Dubashi said without taking her eyes away from her Communications console. "They are transitioning to hyperspace, sir."
"They weren’t kidding about being in a hurry, were they?" Prescott observed.
Already at a distance of over a thousand kilometers, Gresav’s hyperdrive formed what amounted to a "bubble" in normal space that was, by all the rules of Einsteinian physics, simply not permitted to exist. The practical result of this short-lived paradox allowed the ship to cease its existence in normal space and translate into the adjacent dimensionality commonly referred to as hyperspace. From Ingenuity’s perspective, Gresav’s graceful lines and the starfield surrounding her hull blurred momentarily, followed by a flash of gray light as the ship disappeared entirely.
There was a moment of stunned silence on the bridge as each member of the crew grappled with the staggering implications of the historical event they had just been fortunate enough to witness firsthand.
At that moment, Commander Reynolds arrived on the bridge after having settled Nenir into her temporary quarters. Sensing the tension in the room, she stopped short of her chair and looked quizzically at her captain. "Okay, what did I miss?"
Chapter 5
Sol System, Hildian Asteroid 361 Bononia
(1122 UTC – 3.74x108 km from Earth, 13.2x108 km from Ingenuity)
With a flash of blue light, the Guardian spacecraft appeared in normal space within one hundred kilometers of its most recently detected hyperspace transition. Although the data was far too imprecise for a BLA attack,
the GCS was fully prepared to engage and destroy what it assumed was the newly discovered Wek ship, assuming it could be positively located, that is. Doing so was proving to be an unexpected challenge, however. In the intervening five hours since the Wek ship had escaped destruction with the rest of its squadron, the Guardian had been forced to follow a long series of anomalous sensor readings, none of which had led to the enemy ship being reacquired.
Although it had communicated directly with the Terrans for the first time earlier today, openly declaring its physical presence was an additional step the GCS preferred to delay as long as possible. Unfortunately, this implied that it was now responsible for attempting to monitor and control all activity within at least a light year of Sol. This task was nearly impossible from a technical standpoint, and provided the new Wek ship with an advantage that it was clearly prepared to exploit.
It now appeared that the Wek had developed some sort of decoy technology specifically designed to keep the GCS occupied. The untenable tactical situation was at once surprising and difficult for the Guardian to accept. In fact, this morning’s events were unique in the history of the Pelaran cultivation program. For the first time, an alien species appeared to have acquired sufficiently complex technology, or at least sufficiently complex tactics, to temporarily take the initiative from the Guardian. Now, it was forced to grapple with not only the immediate problem of how this had occurred, but also the long-term implications of why it had occurred and how it might be countered.
The specific mechanism by which the Wek vessel had evaded detection was still unclear, but there had been a nearly continuous series of both inbound and outbound hyperspace transitions detected within the Sol system since the Wek ship had escaped. Each transition had been dutifully relayed to the GCS spacecraft by the Pelaran’s network of hyperspace communication beacons. Within the Sol system, there were sufficient beacons in place to typically allow this warning to be received in less than five minutes. Unfortunately, five minutes might as well be five hours when attempting to track down a ship capable of rapid and repeated FTL transitions.
Hyperdrive engines in the process of creating the "bubble" required to transition out of normal space radiated an expanding sphere of exotic particles. This resulted in a beacon-like signal radiating from the point of hyperspace interface that was detectable many light years away in every direction. Unfortunately, this phenomena only originated from vessels departing an area at FTL speeds. From a tactical perspective, however, the detection of outbound vessels was of little consequence since they were presumably far away from the local theater of operations by the time their departure signature was identified. Once in hyperspace, tracking was immensely complicated and could generally only be accomplished for ships on an extended journey lasting weeks or more.
By comparison, the detection of inbound hyperspace transitions was dramatically more difficult since the ship’s hyperdrive engines were no longer emitting the telltale signature as it reentered normal space. To further complicate the situation, when multiple outbound transitions occurred within a localized region of space, they caused a resonance pattern that tended to obscure the faint signatures produced by inbound FTL ships. This effect could last several seconds up to a minute or even more, depending on the number and field strengths of the departing ships. This was, in fact, the twenty-fifth time in the past five hours the GCS had received sensor data indicating a possible inbound hyperspace transition signature. Once again, however, full sensor sweeps of the area yielded nothing other than a handful of the so-called Hilda asteroids.
The most likely explanation for the numerous outbound hyperspace signatures was a well-crafted ruse designed to mask the Wek vessel’s movements within the system. Although the Pelarans themselves had experimented with stealth techniques designed to render hyperspace and even visible light signatures undetectable, the programs were ultimately deemed an unnecessary use of resources and abandoned.
Now, as it contemplated how best to handle the current situation, the Guardian once again noted the fundamental flaw associated with using proxy civilizations to accomplish the Alliance’s military objectives. Leveraging them to control the development of other species within a region of space was one thing, but doing so at the expense of the Alliance’s own military capabilities was something else entirely. It had been over a millennia since the last serious military challenge to Alliance forces. Over the years, this had inevitably resulted in a great many promising military technologies being ignored or abandoned.
Even in vast civilizations spanning thousands of light years, there was a never-ending competition for available resources. The more advanced, and therefore comfortable, the civilization, the more likely it was for those resources to be squandered on programs intended more to advance a political agenda than for the good of society. This effect had a way of compounding over the years, centuries, and millennia to the point where even the most powerful could develop a sense of complacency.
The Guardian’s philosophical reverie was interrupted with yet another detection of an inbound hyperspace transition. In the absence of additional data, the system determined that it had no choice but to continue following up on the sensor readings. Although it was certainly possible that the Wek ship had left the area, the manner in which it had arrived with the larger formation and then immediately reentered hyperspace was almost certainly an indication of intent.
Historically, there had been cases where neighboring civilizations had attempted preemptive military action against a species under cultivation by the Pelarans. It was understandable why this might occur since the very essence of the guardianship program was to affect a fundamental shift in the region’s balance of power. Instances of this level of aggression were surprisingly rare, however, primarily due to the fact that planets selected for cultivation tended to be somewhat remote from the nearest warlike civilizations. The more common response from other civilizations in the region was to make it their business to become the cultivated species’ most trusted friend and ally, preferably their first friend and ally. The old Human adage, "If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em!" seemed to apply particularly well in this case.
Fortunately for the Humans, there were only seventeen habitable planets within twenty light years of Sol, which was considered the "first critical" distance for emergent FTL civilizations. None of the civilizations on any of these worlds were expected to be capable of reaching Terra, much less pose a significant threat, for at least a century. Within Sol’s five hundred light year cultivation radius, however, there were dozens of worlds, and indeed several alliances, that could pose an existential threat for the Humans, given the right set of circumstances. The Sajeth Collective was certainly one of these. Ironically, however, the Wek homeworld, at nearly four hundred and ninety-five light years from Earth, was on the extreme fringe of Sol’s cultivation radius.
Now, as the Guardian prepared to follow up on the latest hyperspace signature, the entire Sol system rang like an immense bell with the FTL departures of over fifty vessels. The GCS immediately realized that this impressive display was not mere deception. The Sajeth Collective was making an emphatic statement. As the cacophony of hyperspace signatures died away over the next few minutes, one final outbound transition was detected, this time from the immediate vicinity of the destroyed Wek vessels.
Earth, Terran Fleet Command Headquarters
(1600 UTC)
Nenir Turlaka entered the flag conference room flanked by two Marine troopers in full combat armor. For the past three hours, she had been subjected to every type of scan and examination TFC Medical could cobble together on short notice. She tolerated all of this attention with the remarkably good humor befitting a senior diplomatic attaché. She even suggested a few additional safeguards the Fleet physicians had not considered, having previously been a surgeon herself.
The chief of the medical branch had reluctantly cleared her for direct contact with senior TFC staff just fifteen minutes prior. He did so in spite
of some misgivings and recommendations that Nenir be kept in isolation until the results of the entire battery of tests were known. Admiral Sexton was hearing none of it, and made it clear to every member of his staff that she was to be treated just like any other senior official representing a friendly foreign government. Accordingly, every member of the TFC command staff stood as she was shown to her seat at the far end of the table.
The admiral had rehearsed his official greeting in his mind several times over the past hour, but now that the time had come, he found himself openly staring at her for a moment, transfixed by the Wek’s appearance. "Madame, I apologize for myself and I apologize in advance for all of the staring you are likely to receive while visiting Earth. We mean no offense, but, frankly, we’re all a little … astonished I suppose, to be in this situation."
"That’s perfectly fine, Admiral, I take no offense," Nenir responded demurely. "In fact, I’d be less than honest if I didn’t admit that all this attention is a bit flattering, really. I must ask, though, surely you have been expecting first contact for some time, have you not?"
Even with the best available translation systems, face to face communications were still a bit awkward. When sitting in the same room with someone, the AI was forced to wait until each party finished speaking before their translation could be played back. Just as in ship to ship communications, each participant heard a nearly perfect facsimile of the other’s voice in an effort to avoid the loss of subtle verbal queues.
In spite of his best efforts to avoid mental comparison with feline species on Earth, Admiral Sexton couldn’t help but be reminded of a cat’s purr mixed with Human speech when hearing Nenir’s rich, lively voice. He found it intoxicating, perhaps to the point of being a little irritating due to its vaguely sexual character. He made a mental note to have someone check to see if the AI could be tweaked to reduce the effect a bit and commanded himself to focus.