“I am told by the Pyrinni that you prepare for the coming of the Saurians.” He took a sip and listened to the translator voice finish his statement.
“But why come to us, Ambassador?” Iniki asked. “We on the Council are not even wholly convinced that a threat exists.”
“Neither were we when the Pyrinni came to us. We felt no need to aid them. My People were more concerned with their own affairs than those of an unseen and unknown enemy. Especially when the information was brought to us by a race that had ignored my people.” He took another sip.
“But the saurians came,” “They are now stronger because of our defeat.”
“What do you want from us?” Iniki asked in a lowered tone of voice as she leaned closer, placing her elbows on the table with her hands touching just before her face.
“Space pirates, all,” Kaliif said under his breath. The translator did not pick it up.
“My people need only a place to live. We need time to prepare for our next encounter with the saurians.”
“We understand your need. The government of Earth has prepared a program of integration, bringing your people into our society.”
“No,” Rigaar said in English, then emptied the small bowl and placed it next to the one Kaliif had emptied long before. An unseen aide quickly filled both cups and disappeared back against the wall. “Our two people would not be able to integrate. Instead we would like to populate the system five light-years from yours.”
“Barnard's Star,” Matsuotso said, his voice of a different tenor, a different accent, even though very light, still noticeable.
“Is that a problem, Admiral?” Iniki looked sideways at him.
“We currently have an outpost here, Prime Minister,” Admiral Matsuotso said in an unemotional tone.
“I believe we need to discuss that proposal in closed session, Madam Chair,” Admiral Walker said, leaning closer to her.
“What is it that you can do for us?” Walker asked, turning from Iniki to face the two reggf opposite the table from him.
“I believe that is an inappropriate question, Admiral,” Iniki said through a smile.
“We are prepared to give tactical and technical support in a military effort against a common enemy,” Rigaar said.
“This is an issue--” Walker started.
“Cha,” Kaliif spat. “Satiens, we will de thorced to thight the saurians when they cone. We will thight until we nust run again. Ith you give us shits we will lose slowly, ith you do nothing we will lose quickly. The choice is yours. The saurians will cone. They will win, ethen with your giant shits.”
“Can you give us details of their tactics and equipment?” Matsuotso asked.
“We are wasting our time, Rig,” Kaliif finished his dark drink, quickly downing it. “We should run again. These people will fall while their leaders argue.”
“We do not dedate,” Rigaar said with a heavy exhale, ignoring the translator. “We quickly decide and then we act. It is ut to you. Do you accet to thight with us or do you wish to thight then alone?”
“We must know--” Walker began.
“Nothing nore,” Kaliif stood. “A Saurian could de nelting your house and you would research ith leathing the house is a right thing to do.” He turned to Rigaar. “You coming, Rig?”
“Yes,” Rigaar stood. “Once we leathe you will nether see us again.” He saw a change cross the female's face.
“Gentleman,” she stood, “I would like to have a word with our friends alone.”
“Sit down Prime Minister,” Matsuotso said.
She looked to him, started to speak, thought better of it and then sat down.
“Commander,” Matsuotso looked directly at Kaliif, “control yourself please and return to your seat.
Kaliif looked at the human, raising his ears forward in surprise. “Was that an order, Rig?” He turned to Rigaar, smiling.
“Yes, Kal, I believe it was.”
Kaliif sat down, brushing his tail to the side.
“What is your title sir,” Matsuotso asked Rigaar. “I can tell you are no ambassador.”
“He is Reegarf,” Kaliif said.
“Reegarf,” Matsuotso stood to attention and bowed. “There is no greater honor than meeting you. I wish to discuss with you the displacement of your people.”
“I will listen,” Rigaar said in English and sat down.
“Gentlemen,” Iniki began but stopped when she saw the glare of Matsuotso. She was angry with herself for letting him brow beat her, but she couldn't help it.
“I will give you all of Barnard's Star. It is your new home.” Matsuotso bowed his head. “We have a research and production facility on one of the bodies in our system, Titan. Would your engineers and scientists join ours?”
“Under which command shall my men be,” Rigaar said, smiling as the translator finished his words.
“I would prefer it to be a joint command, Reegarf.” Matsuotso bowed his head. “But I will accept your judgment on the issue. “Admiral,” Matsuotso turned to Walker, “Give orders for Barnard Station to evacuate. Prepare the Corps of Engineers to be at the Reegarf's disposal.”
“Aye, sir.” Walker stood and briskly left the room.
“Reegarf,” Matsuotso turned back to Rigaar. “Let us speak of our future.”
Chapter 10
“We were a little over seventy five C and running a TCI scan when we detected field anomalies at five parsecs out. We flubbed the Coil and dropped to point six C. TCI still showed the anomalies. Computer evaluation figured them to be caused by warping of space.
“We debated the course of events with the Captain. They were still three parsecs away and we felt we had time as their speed was no more than point three C. The conclusion was to use the Coil torpedoes. We set course and engaged the torpedoes. Our scans showed the torpedoes progression at seventeen fifty C and then the resulting anti-matter blast.
“Scanner reported a blinding flash before torpedo detonation. The scans jumped off the normal band scale and then vanished. Before we could readjust our instruments our hull had been breached by concentrated AM beams aft. Local scanners showed three smaller ships, all size class four, thrusting on warped vectors and firing AM beams.
“Our shields held most of the attack off for a time, but the power requirements grew too high. At this time Captain Wells was knocked into a coma due to his CRT's exploding and I assumed command. I reengaged the Coils and set for maximum pulse. At that time we only had one plate functioning.
“The alien ships couldn't keep up. They engaged their FTL drive again, and again blinded our sensors. I ordered for the ejection of plasma defense pods, resulting in destruction of aft sensors. We were able to accelerate to one point three C by this time. When other systems began to compensate for our blind spot we discovered that there was only one ship left. This discovery was too late, we couldn't react quickly enough. One of their torpedoes impacted us lower aft.
“I do not know if they were blinded or not, but their torpedoes did travel at FTL. The explosion destroyed the aft section of my ship. I ordered abandon ship and set the AM charges to overload. I was able to see the explosion.
“I assume that the alien ship saw us but ignored the escape pods. I'm afraid they must have gotten more information on us than we did on them.”
Three Kramer class cruisers altered vector and headed into the system cruising at twenty five C. Brandon looked at the screen, staring at stars. The astronomical charts had been changed. It was the will of the Space Force to make charts with the center of the galaxy at the center of the chart. They must have felt it necessary to help the rest of humanity get used to the idea of being space faring. He smiled. It was a lot like making Europe the center of the map instead of breaking it up. But the old maps still had the US at the center. US domination of thought, but at least they had finally gone metric.
“Sir,” the young petty officer spoke up, nervous and afraid to work in such close quarters with his commander. “I've got co
ntacts in sector twelve, they're warp marks. Vectors show out orbit of the seventh planet.”
“Send message and drop from C,” Brandon said without looking from his screen. He pressed the screen buttons and changed their readouts. He was looking at a computer generated image of the system they were a little under a parsec away from. The images showed three ship icons surrounding a planet icon. Next to the icons were vector and altitude information. Brandon looked at the picture and let his mind wander.
Two more ships moved onto the screen and a window opened showing a figure representing more ships a few light years away. He thought, remembering the report of the lost ship. He thought their ships to be superior in technology, the commander of the Esson just underestimated the Saurians.
“Captain,” the screen to his right blinked on with an older face staring at him. “Have you any ideas?”
“Yes, Captain,” he smiled at the other face, Captain Haitian, an older British man alive before the space-time, “I do.”
The screen blinked and the face of a woman appeared. She had forced her way through the academy and into command. Brandon liked her, even though she was ten years older than he was.
“Hello, Silvia,” he smiled. “We were just discussing our plan of attack.”
“I do not think we should,” Haitian said. “I believe that we should observe and collect data.”
“They've at least five ships. We're not that good, John,” Sylvia said.
“Captain,” the petty officer broke in, “I've got contacts moving into our position. They're far enough away that I can see them using their FTL drive.”
“Engage Coils and accelerate away.” He turned back to the faces. “We'll run for now, but it'll be a running fight.”
“Yes sir,” Haitian said and the screen closed off. Sylvia nodded and her screen went blank as well.
“Bring us about and engage shields,” Brandon's voice took on a more forceful tone. He looked at the sensor read-outs on his own chair panels. The gravity shifts were approaching rapidly.
“I don't think they're ships, sir,” Lington, the TAC officer turned and faced Brandon. He was a bright Lieutenant, perfect for the Chair.
“Could be missiles?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Launch the kinetics.”
“Aye, sir.” Lington turned back to his panel. He worked the keys and prepared two coil torpedoes for launch. They were solid titanium with guidance, rated for speed. Even a subatomic particle at C velocities would take out an unshielded ship. These were designed missile killers, the anti-torpedo torpedo.
He waited for the loaders to fit them into the tubes. No weapon was manually handled any longer. Men operating robots positioned the torpedoes into launching position. He got the green light, set the program and engaged their own pusher plates. The small vessels, no longer than ten meters, edged out of the bay and accelerated at twenty five C with no known top off velocity.
Brandon waited, watching the stars.
“Ships warping oh-three-niner-down.” The voice came to him. He looked at the screen and drew the options with his finger directly onto the screen, a faint white line tracing the path his finger took. His ship altered course with his lines, leaving the other two behind.
“Engage beams when within range, Lieutenant.”
“Aye, sir.” Langton programmed the necessary processors, putting the manual crews to work. The only crew needed were technicians. The velocities were too high and response times too prohibitive to have a live gunner.
“Leader,” the scannerman reported from his position, “the contacts we had are gone.”
“Shift, Leader,” the weaponsman turned to face Kiah.
“I detect no residue effects.” The scannerman broke in without looking to the weaponsman.
Kiah looked to the empty screen. Stars were removed, and computer images graphed on to give information relative to their position. He thought of the reports, the aliens able to cross over the barrier at will. They were able to destroy a number of ships while still undetectable. He thought, knowing that time may be too short, or too late already. Faster than the barrier was too fast to think.
“Set anti-missile pods for wide dispersion. Inform all ships and collaborate to give widest possible point.” Kiah secured himself in his chair. “And back us up.”
The two Kramers altered course to follow the first. Pulses of sensor blinding explosions erupted before them. They continued the aftermath of the kinetic missiles. The lead Kramer cruiser engaged her anti-matter beams a full thirty million kilometers before the target. The pulse lasted for a fraction of a second. The velocity of the beam carried through the target. The alien ship erupted at point of contact, their shield unable to stop the power, and carried it down the length of the ship until it disintegrated into its base elements.
The two other Kramers followed suit, engaging their beams and travelling through the pack of alien ships. Small spheres floated in space before them. Held inside the spheres was one gram of anti-protons and one gram of protons, held in stasis, separated from each other by a magnetic field. The first sphere touched the electromagnetic shield. The pulsing neutrons pushed the metal skin at such a force that is disintegrated. The magnetic shield dropped, the protons and anti-protons were mated.
The initial explosion produced enough power to erase the skins on the others. They chained, rocking the area with walls of force, multiplied by the velocity. In that instant of time the two Kramers ceased to exist. Three alien ships vanished in a pulse of time.
Brandon felt heat scorch his legs. His ship buckled, he saw the bulkhead bend, and then he saw the stars from normal space. Their velocity was holding at point three C. He looked to his second, slumped in his chair. He slowly realized that he was floating. There was power, but the engineering screens were dead.
“Reactor's down sir,” one of the technicians said when he noticed his captain's attention. “I can't tell if we'll have a meltdown or not.”
“Then go and find out.” He unbuckled himself. “Medical emergency on the Bridge,” he touched the comm panel on his chair.
“Damage coming in from across the board sir,” the petty officer said.
“What's your first name, son?” Brandon smiled. He figured he should at least know his crew's name, especially now
“Walter, sir.”
“Walter, you're my liaison with the department heads. I want a full briefing on the condition of the ship.”
“May not need it, sir,” Lieutenant Lington said. “I've got a ship contact approaching us, slowly.”
The petty officer turned back to his station. “I confirm sir. I've got a number of smaller contacts. I think they're sending out shuttles.”
“Boarding party,” Lington reached into the pocket on the back of his chair and produced a handgun. “Sir.” He smiled.
Brandon was numb. His crew wasn't armed. He had read the briefings from the Canids. His people couldn't survive.
“Give the order,” he swallowed, “abandon ship.”
“Leader,” the voice came across the radio. Kiah turned from standing behind the sensorman and touched the communicationsman panel next to him. He had been watching the small pods disperse from the larger ship.
“Report.”
“Objective secure. Alien Leader alone.”
“Return.” He hid his glee. “Second,” he turned to the katsurani standing near the edge of the chamber, “take a crew to pilot the ship.”
He extended his neck and left.
The weaponsman turned, his eye slits open wide in a grin. “We have an alien ship. We have won our first battle.”
“Do not call yourself hero yet, young one.” Kiah returned to his chair.
Brandon floated with his back against the view screen. He stared at the secured door leading from the bridge. Lington's handgun was in his hand, pointing toward the deck. He was going to die with his ship and kill as many of them as possible. He reached over with his gloved hand and worked the hammer b
ack on the self-load pistol. He was prepared to die.
He smelled the burning before he saw the light. The wall melted. Through the hole floated a monster. It was two meters easy, and probably five hundred kilos. It floated effortlessly, expertly into the room and pointed something at him. He let go of the handgun and tried his hardest not to move any muscle. It was followed by two more.
They stared at him. Their skin was a dull grey, armor he assumed. They had tails and reversed knees. But their bulk was insane. Finally, one of them spoke. The volume of the speaker made Brandon jump. He didn't understand the words. The language was weird, sounding ancient and slow. He stared at them. One of them approached him and grabbed him by the arm. Its grip was hell, crushing his upper arm. Brandon screamed.
He was pulled through his ship, out a hole in the hull and into another ship. He tried to notice everything, the pain pumped in his temples. He was placed in a web and the others leaned against the wall. The pressure was the same as on the ship. An iris valve closed and he felt motion before gravity came on. The weight was crushing, at least two gees, nearing three. The webbing cut into his skin. He was shocked at how familiar everything was, like he had seen it before, or recognized it when he saw it.
The pain in his arm was overwhelming. He couldn't move. Spots danced before his eyes. He fought to stay conscious. His vision tunneled. He tightened the muscles in his legs. His head swam and he became dizzy. Blackness.
The giant ship edged just under the light speed barrier. It was a different shape, more streamlined and one quarter the size of an Asia class. Its hide was resistant and reflective, and it carried repulsors so that it could land and hover a few meters above the surface of any planet.
The giant vessel was called Starflight, but nick-named New Haven by her crew. The bridge was held deep in the center of the vessel, sitting atop the computer core. It was a drastic change from normal reggf ships. The bridge was circular, with the captain's chair in the center, on a raised dais. Each section had a crew of three to five and an officer standing behind them overseeing the developments.
New Haven could act as the center of a battle group, it could operate alone, as it was now, or be a support ship. The vessel could even be an assault ship. Over three thousand human combat troops were carried aboard, one fifth of them in powered armor.
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