There was a ripple of laughter.
“I’ve seen all the reports, ours as well as the Sumerian ones, and it’s a lot worse than you might think. Sending our pilots up against the Reaper ships would be a suicide mission, and doing it now would be a great way to bring us to their attention – and we don’t want that.”
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“However, we have a few aces up our sleeve. To start with, this room contains the best collection of industry brains in the business.”
He waited for this to sink in, it never hurt to let people know how much you appreciated them.
“And over in research,” he continued, “is a collection of the brightest and most flexible minds we could find. We need them to think ‘unthunk thoughts’ - we need them to think things that have never been imagined before.
“However, Cordez has been working on other solutions as well,” said Finch. He surveyed them levelly, and waited until he had their full attention.
“You have all signed confidentiality clauses,” he said, suddenly changing tack. The room looked up in surprise.
“You have all accepted the conditions of the work we do. You know you will be here more than twice the usual length of contract, and those who wished it have been allowed to bring your partners with you.
“I need you to understand that this base is now off-limits to the rest of the Solar System, for the duration.”
“What’s the big mystery?” called Carlos Paula, head of hull construction. “So we signed our lives away, why are you making a big deal out of it?”
“Do I have your word you will fulfil those obligations?” said Finch, sweeping the room with a fierce gaze. Heads began to nod, while some muttered agreement.
Finch moved to stand beside the main screen.
“Then I have a surprise for you, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “Cordez has cooked up a little help for us.”
He pressed a button, and a picture of twenty or so Mersa smiled down at the room from the screen. Barely to shoulder height, they were covered in a thin but dense coating of fur, which ranged from light browns through to gold. Any suggestion that these were animals disappeared when the room saw the sharp intelligence that looked out of the screen.
There was clothing, of a sort, and a lot of finely worked gold chains on some of them. Those that were, presumably, female, but who could say what was normal for them?
Pandemonium reigned. Several of those closest to the screen stood up, knocking their chairs backwards. “What the hell is this?” yelled Carlos Paula.
“Settle down,” bellowed Finch.
The noise level returned to something more like normal.
“These are the Mersa people from Alamos, and they are going to help us.”
“What the hell do they know about deep space communications?” said Ursul Vangretti, head of communications and a fierce little redhead.
“Not much,” smiled Finch. “Which is why you’re going to teach them how it works, Ursul.” She started to say something, then sat down abruptly.
“Hey, Alamos is a ‘non-interference’ planet, according to the Sumerians,” said John MacEwart. “The last thing we want is to bring them down on our heads.”
“All taken care of, John. EarthGov signed off on this with the Sumerians six weeks ago.”
“Why didn’t I hear anything about it?” persisted MacEwart.
“Listen up all of you,” said Finch. “Maybe we’re not in a state of war just yet – who knows what’s just happened on the frontier with the Core – but we probably will be soon enough.
“We need to move fast, and we need to move as soon as we’ve decided something. Debating every move, and getting everybody’s permission, isn’t going to work any more. You’re on the inside track now. You are Earth’s only chance. Tell me I can count on you!”
They had never seen him look so fierce, and there was a long silence.
Then Carlos Paula raised his hand. It was an old-fashioned and quaint thing to do, but it struck a chord with the others. Another hand went up, and then a forest of hands.
Finch smiled. “Since that went so well,” he said, with a chuckle, “whose ready to meet our guests?”
“They’re here,” stuttered John MacEwart.
“That’s right, John. No time to waste,” said Finch. Several of the gathering began to look a little nervous.
“It’s all right,” said Finch, smiling. “They’re a lot smaller than us.” There were a few nervous laughs at that.
“You’re going to need linguist earpieces, people,” said Finch, “and a lot of patience – for a while – but after that I think our new friends are going to amaze you.
“The Mersa have got a lot to offer. Above all, everyone, play nice!”
CHAPTER 16
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The first pigeon came blasting in from a part of the satellite barrier not far from where the Ragnaroth space station had been destroyed. EarthGov sent a fast ship to the nearest Sumerian settlement, reporting the number of Reaper ships and the heading they were on.
Two days later a Sumerian trading ship, en route from K'Sarth to Saurok on the fringes of the Sumerian empire, picked up a number of energy signatures on its long-range scanners. It diverted to Rokar, the Sumerian mining world, and word of the Reaper ships was sent to the Sumerian government on Uruk.
Thirty two wings of the Imperial Deep Space Navy were now based at Rokar. This world was the Sumerian industrial base, and it was a world closer to the Core than the Sumerian home world.
Four huge military space stations hung in orbit above Rokar. Each one was home to a ‘barauk’ of ten wings, a total of 80 warships. Each barauk referred to the ripping teeth of a predator of the ocean deeps.
BaraukHarkan and BaraukTar were fully equipped and ready to be sent into action. Orders for BaraukHarkan arrived from Uruk a day after the Sumerian government received notice of the Reaper ship incursion into Sumerian space.
The orders the commanders received were clear. Form a barrier ahead of the Reaper ships and open communications. If they do not respond, or do not deviate from their course, destroy them.
With no other name to refer to, the Sumerians had accepted the Human word for the great ships of fire. They had their own word of course, but it had the same sentiment of harvesting an area.
Eighty warships of the Imperial Deep Space Navy set a course to intercept the Reaper ships. A cluster of bright stars blossomed in the sky above Rokar as the cooling towers of the warships glowed red then bright white as Orscantium rods lowered themselves into the massive containment chambers. There was a choreographed ripple across the night sky, and the ships were gone.
On board the lead ship was VigoParBrahmad, a much decorated Sumerian commander who had been brought out of retirement. It was rare for a Para’Par’Brahmad, a leader of leaders, to be directly involved in the military, but he had been Admiral of the Fleet until recently. His experience was considered essential now the Sumerians were facing the threat of the Reaper ships.
CerBrahmad captained the lead ship, with CajSanni as his Second. VigoParBrahmad was on this ship in an advisory role, though the old warhorse didn’t see it that way.
When the fleet arrived at the expected position of the Reaper ships, they found nothing but empty space.
“Confirming there has been a disturbance in background radiation,” reported a Par’Lock engineer. “It is likely something artificial in origin passed through this area recently,”
“Navigation,” snapped CerBrahmad, “project the estimated course in both directions.”
The navs officer scrambled to bring up a star map at a large scale. It hung in three dimensions above his console. He tapped in certain coordinates and a yellow line appeared within the map, coming from the Core and running between the Sumerian worlds of Uruk and RuaRoth. It didn’t come close to any inhabited worlds.
“Even allowing for the maximum possible error,” said the navs officer, “the Rea
per ship trajectory doesn’t threaten any of our inhabited worlds.” A cone of pale yellow grew along the yellow line on the star chart as the possible error in the trajectory was factored in.
This was not a helpful result, and CerBrahmad looked frustrated.
“What does lie along the trajectory,” rumbled the deep, slow, old voice of VigoParBrahmad. “Give me anything: barren worlds, dying suns, even comets.”
The navs officer entered more details into his systems, and waited for the results.
“These are the bodies of note, Admiral,” he reported. Three representations came up on the main screen: a neutron star, palely flickering in its old age; a large comet that may have been a small planet in an extreme elliptical orbit about a red giant nearby; and a binary system.
“Binary system,” said VigoParBrahmad, in a slow but powerful voice that did not invite another opinion.
CerBrahmad ordered the fleet to come about. Running their engines at the emergency output of 107 percent of the maximum levels, they hurried to reach the binary system before the Reaper ships.
Some time later a formation of 21 Reaper ships slowed on the edge of the binary system. The fiery, ornate ships appeared to change shape as the energies of stars played through their hulls.
Directly ahead an old, collapsed sun spun in a fiery dance with a younger neighbour. It was a typical binary system. The collapsed star was incredibly dense, and had an enormous gravitational pull.
Over the millennia the two had whirled closer and closer, until now the older one was able to strip long sheets of fusing hydrogen off the surface of the younger. A great tail of flame joined them, as the collapsed star gorged itself on its neighbour.
Between the Reaper ships and the binary system a wall of evenly-spaced Sumerian warships formed a formidable barrier. Messages on every frequency of the electromagnetic spectrum bombarded the Reaper ships, exhorting them to come no further into Sumerian space.
A compressed blast of data that might have been a communications signal targeted the Sumerian ships, and then the Reaper ships picked up speed.
CerBrahmad adopted the standard Sumerian response when a targeted ship did not reply. His navs officer began to broadcast the same message, over and over. “You will be fired upon. Do not continue on this course. Stand off.”
When the Reaper ships had closed half the distance, CerBrahmad gave the order for all ships to open fire with energy weapons, targeting the lead Reaper ship. The result was more spectacular than he could ever have imagined.
The lead ship flamed white hot. It was an intense radiation outburst that overloaded the warship scanners and visual screens alike. The Sumerians were temporarily blinded, but as the energy bombardment ceased, CerBrahmad could see that the lead Reaper ship remained unharmed.
Picking up speed, the Reaper ships cut through the Sumerian warships as if they were not there. There were a number of collisions, as warships ignited on contact with the Reaper ships.
In a matter of moments it was all over. The great, flat-bladed ships disappeared into the pillar of flame between the two suns of the binary system, and the Sumerians were left in a state of shock.
“I cannot believe it,” faltered CerBrahmad. “The Reaper ships were untouched by our attack!”
CajSanni saw the look of complete disbelief on his Par’Brahmad’s face. He sent a status check to the fleet and looked at the tally that came back, not wanting to believe it himself.
“Six ships lost, Captain,” he said, as firmly as he could manage. “Completely destroyed.”
“We should have tried fusion torpedoes,” said CerBrahmad, as if to himself.
“Torpedoes didn’t work at Ba’H’Roth,” rumbled the admiral, “and I don’t think they will here. Captain, Second, to the ops room.”
In the end they devised a strategy. CajSanni had collated tactical scenarios from Sumerian, Rothii, and even Human, military histories as part of his preparation for the mission. From one of the Rothii databases he had taken the idea of using the star drive itself as a weapon.
This was the most unconventional of the plans he had ready for the engagement with the Reaper ships. It bore no resemblance to anything in the Sumerian military handbook, and only the presence of VigoParBrahmad overcame the captain’s objections, and swung the decision in favour of the plan.
“Begin the disembarkations of the crews immediately,” ordered the admiral.
Shortly thereafter, four of the warships were rigged to run under remote control. Spreading out around the binary system, the warships began to move in on their targets, and the Second’s plan began to unfold around the enemy.
The Reaper ships were doing something within the great tail of fire that connected the two suns. They were not as close together as CajSanni would have liked for his plan, but he would take whatever he could get.
The four remote-controlled warships closed first, picking up speed, but there were salvoes of fusion torpedoes following closely behind them. The Reaper ships continued to manoeuvre within the torrent of thermonuclear gases.
The warships and the torpedoes detonated in the middle of the Reaper ships, all in the same instant. The warships were instantly vaporised, and so was the containment chamber in each of them, along with the Orscantium it carried.
Decayed artificially like this, the Orscantium closed space into a tough, tight ball, instead of folding it neatly behind a starship. Contained inside a piece of a separate reality, the fusion torpedoes built upon each other, and the temperature and pressure soared until conditions were like those at the heart of suns.
Then the bubble collapsed, and new stars were born among the Reaper ships. One of them crumpled like paper, and then blew apart. It set off the two ships next to it. Another ship was too close to one of the new suns, and melted into star dust. Then the inferno was over.
“So they can be destroyed,” said CajSanni ecstatically. He saw movement on the main screen, and noticed the remaining Reaper ships emerging from the river of fire. Arcing rings of plasma began to rise from nose to tail around them, and the ornately fashioned ships settled into pyramidal formations of four.
At Ba’H’Roth the Sumerian warships had been able to get inside the expanding rings of one ship. Here the combination of flares from the pyramids, constantly changing in three dimensions, made that impossible.
Warships were ripped apart without mercy. A number of warships vaporised the crews within them as their cooling towers were destroyed and heat built up. One blew out along a side from the stress on its systems, and cartwheeled blindly away.
The remaining warships were trying to coordinate their energy weapons, and unable to get a clear line on the Reaper ships to send in their torpedoes. Nothing was having much effect, and they were being ripped apart one after the other.
“Get them out of there!” roared VigoParBrahmad, galvanised by the situation into a much younger version of himself.
In the end less than half of BaraukHarkan made it out of the system, running desperately until it was clear the Reaper ships were no longer following. Of 80 warships, the pride of the Sumerian Imperial Deep Space Navy, 32 limped in to the navy base at Rokar.
CHAPTER 17
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SarSanni had reported to the Imperial Navy when he returned from Ragnaroth, and answered innumerable questions about the destruction of the giant Rothii space station. Then he had been granted indefinite leave, the normal procedure when a Sumerian lost most of their shipmates.
SarSanni, and the two Par’Sanni who had survived the Reaper ship attack with him – by hiding in the containment chamber of their ship’s star drive system – had struggled to come to terms with their experiences. All three of them had accepted the warmth and support of their kin, and that had restored their spirits. But there was now something different about them, something that had changed, deep in their souls.
They knew the Sumerian empire was not the greatest force in the known galaxy any more. Their sense of security had bee
n taken from them. They were searching for something to believe in, but they didn’t know what it was yet.
Then the three Par’Sanni seemed to just disappear. It was normal for Sumerians to take an extended period of time off when their place in the highly structured Sumerian order of things was torn from them. No one thought to comment on their absence. It was assumed each one of them was choosing a new ship, and assimilating into the ship’s complement of officers. But that was not the case.
Once the two younger Par’Sanni got over the shock of losing the entire research team that had been their work family, they began to look to the older and more experienced SarSanni for direction. It didn’t take long before they wholeheartedly embraced his mission – to build better warships, and to defend their people.
AldSanni negotiated the outcrops of rock on the floor of SarSanni’s living room. He had important news.
SarSanni was looking out over the sea, the birthplace of his people. He had returned to this small seaside town to set up a base. It was the place his extended family still visited occasionally for important ceremonies. He chose this place because it reminded him constantly of what he was defending, the reason for his mission.
The dwelling places of the town were set into low cliffs looking out over the sea. Some were very old, and dug out of the rock, and some had been added more recently using synthetic materials in keeping with the nature of the place.
A Par’Sanni dwelling always had a living room open to the outside, and a view toward the sea. The weather was allowed to enter this room, and swirl around the rough outcrops left in the levelled floor. The sea breezes were allowed to encrust the craggy sides and roof with salt. It was a ceremonial reminder of the beginnings of all life, and SarSanni reflected on that concept at least once a day.
Further in, weather-tight doors opened onto more secluded rooms, but rooms with a décor that reflected the sea and the cliffs.
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