Opening Moves

by James Traynor

  The emergency meeting had managed to draw delegates from every single member except the Érenni and the Tuathaan whose ambassadors were understandably indisposed. Still, they would weigh in over a video link via a faster than light connection.

  Tachyon Density Emergence boosters, commonly just called FTL comms, constituted one of the two legs of interstellar commerce and communication, with the other being courier ships. Massively energy-intensive and as large as they were expensive TDE boosters were the literal eye of the needle for priority communications across large distances. Its extraordinary computational needs and energy hunger grew exponentially the more accurate and long-ranged the system got. Bandwidth was limited, as was the number of simultaneous connections to multiple destinations any system could establish. Given the communications needs and immense amounts of data sent and received on a daily basis, a single TDE was almost ridiculously inadequate, as an equivalent to an internet server, for a developed planet involved in the interstellar economy. That, and the vast costs involved with setting up and maintaining such a communications node meant that only a few settled planets between the hundreds of known inhabited star systems could afford such a system, and even these reserved most of the systems' capacity for governmental traffic or high-paying customers. Excess capacities were available to the public. For private citizens the rates varied from planet to planet but were rarely below a hundred credits per minute. The expense earned you the ability to talk to someone or send data packages over a distance of slightly more than five hundred light-years. Even at just a tenth of the range, only the largest military vessels could carry the most basic versions of these systems.

  That meant that day to day operations and communications were handled by the modern version of the pony express: courier ships. Most developed planets fielded small fleets of the fast system hoppers, small ships usually weighing only a few thousand tons, consisting only of drives and computers and data storage and oversized comm equipment.

  Setiawan pushed the heavy two-winged doors of polished hardwood open with his four arms and two stooped native guards in gaudy uniforms sprang to attention, presenting their feather-crowned ceremonial spears. The inside of the dome reeked of uncertainty and barely hidden fear. The old Komerco politician stopped and drew back his thick lips in a silent snarl as he tried to sift through the buzz of voices.

  The meeting hall was full of ambassadors, aides, reporters and guards; its wooden furniture and paneling looked almost black and shone in the sunlight beginning to stream in through the large transparent roof above.

  With an inaudible sigh he straightened his shoulders and took his seat. “I call this meeting to order,” his unaided voice boomed over the gathered delegates' heads. “In the absence of Ambassador Mairwen,” he nodded to a holographic projection of the Érenni female, “I will chair this session. Our main item for discussion is the Dominion's offensive against two of our members. I trust you have all read and seen the reports. I surrender the floor to Ambassador Mairwen.” Setiawan sat down, and with the rest of the Pact, turned to face the image of the Érenni representative.

  She looked paler, frailer; the small crest on her head seemingly lilting to one side. Her eyes high in her head were the most notable feature – and the biggest change. Érenni eyes were always dark, and even under their protective first pair of transparent lids they didn't lose a certainly lively glow. Mairwen's were hollow and dark. Lines of weariness surrounded them and dark patches and bags had gathered beneath them. It was the look of a person who had caught a glimpse of hell itself and who knew that, very soon, it would be coming to claim her and all she knew and loved. The holographic image shivered as she rose to address the meeting, then steadied again as she opened her thin mouth.

  “Fellow delegates, members of the Pact, I will not waste your time by bothering you with the kind of long, exquisitely worded statements we all have sadly come to expect from these occasion. The truth is: the time for debate is over.” Her voice was a melancholic sigh as she labored to speak clearly and precisely. “The Érenni Republics now know what the Dominion wants, and we've suffered their most brutal assault in the process. Our colony at Senfina is gone, wiped clean of life. Tens of millions of my people lay dead and unburied in streets and cities that have been ours for centuries, the home of countless generations. Our world of Ampleksa has also fallen without a fight, and now the Ashani are using it to build up their forces and prepare for a further attack. Going by the direction of their attack so far there can be no question as to what their target is, ladies and gentlemen: our home world itself.”

  “What evidence do you have for this?” ambassador Karel Renod of the Agama asked, his shriveled thick skin and small, deep-set eyes the evolutionary results of his people's point of origin, a windy and arid world. “That this is some strange kind of extermination drive instead of a local land grab?”

  “Evidence?” Mairwen's jaw dropped and her voice peaked in disbelief. “Millions of Érenni have perished, more in a single instance than in every violent clash in our history combined! The blood of my people is all the evidence needed!”

  “Yes, the evidence you need,” the lead Rigaari delegate spoke up, his entourage nodding eagerly. Hailing from the forest-covered rolling hills of the small planet Rigaar, he resembled a four foot tall, gray-furred and status-obsessed squirrel standing on his hind legs. “But we require more than just that.”

  Gwythyr of the Tuathaan growled, a low, rumbling noise filling the room's speakers as he spoke from the Érenni home world. “What exactly do you need? A strategic analysis from a military man? Do I need to recite my military credentials to you?” he raised a bushy eyebrow and the small alien backed away. “If this was a simple land grab the Dominion would have attacked only the Republics, and they'd have done so on a wide front to take as many viable border systems as they could before the Érenni had time to respond. There are at least ten star systems with planets in the Goldilocks zone along their border with the Republics which they could have taken. That would've saved them time and ships and soldiers since the Érenni would've looked for a compromise at a negotiating table.”

  He pushed a key and his face was replaced by a three-dimensional map of Republican space.

  “Instead, the Ashani have driven a wedge deep into Érenni space along a foldspace path that'll lead them directly to the home world. We also know from recon flights that Senfina and Ampleksa have fallen victim to concerted bombardments with neutron charges and biological agents. If this was about reducing these systems as strategic threats the Dominion would've demolished orbital infrastructure and wiped out population centers by direct nuclear strikes. And yet, what we're witnessing –- witnessing, ambassador – is a concerted effort to exterminate the civilian population.”

  “Have you had operatives on the ground to confirm these suspicions?” Setiawan inquired in a neutral tone.

  “No, that wasn't possible,” Gwythyr admitted grudgingly. “The Dominion's military presence was too strong to risk sending in teams. Only one in four of the recon ships we did send made it out again.” He sensed the shifting mood in the room and continued more forcefully. “However, the Érenni are not alone. The home system of a major Tuathaan clan was attacked eight days ago while our forces were engaging the enemy in the Báine star system on the Tuathaan-Dominion border. We had thought to fight them off there, and Clan Dunnan demanded to send its forces in relief to its beleaguered home.” He looked away for a moment and ground his teeth. “As far as we know they were ambushed and completely annihilated. We haven't heard back from them, and meanwhile the Ashani have come back to Báine in full force. We had to cede control of the system.”

  He pushed himself up, and when he spoke again his face was grim.

  “My people have a reputation as fierce warriors and courageous sailors, ladies and gentlemen. The Tuathaan have never shied away from a fight. But this...,” he paused, and took a deep breath. He looked weary and old. “This is no mere border raid, or some limite
d grab for territory. This is beyond the scope of what we've ever dealt with before. Two Tuathaan clans mustered more than two and a half thousand ships of all classes and sizes. During the past weeks we've lost fifteen hundred of them, with another three hundred so heavily damaged they'll need months in our repair yards.”

  This drew a few gasps of surprise. There were members and clients – many of them, in fact – of the Pact who didn't field that many warships to begin with.

  “At Báine and Dunnan Gal we've lost more than a million soldiers and sailors, and that's only those we know of. The Ashani seem to shrug off their own losses. This isn't a brush fire conflict, this is a full scale war! An invasion of the Pact!”

  “We have predicted this for two years.” Mairwen added more calmly. She reached out to Gwythyr and touched his arm. “Back then we saw the Dominion's aggression and chose to ignore it. Worlds fell, millions died, and yet we turned a blind eye. Now it is we who are paying for our obstinacy. We should have helped the Aetu. We should have formed a united front and we should have pushed back the Ashani before they gathered such strength. Now, it will be that much harder.”

  “I've studied the reports you've provided to this council. The Ashani seem to be a threat to you, Ambassador Mairwen, but we are confident the Érenni defenses will hold,” Serrok Setiawan said calmly as he flipped through pages on his tablet. “The Dominion must have spent the bulk of its forces in trying to batter down your front door, and as callous as this may sound to you in light of your losses, my sources within the Komerco Militia suggest that there simply is no way the Ashani can fight on two fronts and bring up enough strength to successfully endanger your home world. Your defenses are still intact, and you've got a mobile reserve. After the losses the Dominion suffered at Senfina they'll think twice about continuing their offensive, even if they should magically possess the manpower for it. And you,” he turned his head to face Gwythyr. “The Timocracy understands the heavy impact the defeats at your two star systems have had on your people's self-esteem, but we are convinced that the Tuathaan fleet will repel the invaders with its ferocity.”

  The older Tuathaan flared up but the dainty Érenni next to him cut him off.

  “Have you even heard a word I have said?” Mairwen exclaimed. “We cannot just sit back and hope the Dominion doesn't attack our home world! And what about our other colonies? Are we to leave them to the Ashani so that they can butcher our people there? The Dominion will not be stopped by us alone. I implore you: we must unite! We have to create a combined fleet and launch a counter attack!”

  “A combined fleet?” Renod repeated, first slowly, then more vigorously shaking his head. “No, we will not send ships to fight your war. We have borders of our own to protect. If we did send ships to fight in a foreign war while raiders ravaged our outer territories our people would string us up in the streets – and they'd be right to do so, gods forgive me! We have no quarrel with the Ashani, and they have none with us. We will not get involved in a war which does not serve us.”

  “My world faces extermination!” Mairwen recoiled, her voice horrified. “And you won't do anything to help us, even if it means the death of billions? Billions whom you've known, whom you've traded with? Does our organization mean nothing?”

  “Our mutual defense pact covers the Rasenni Empire, not the Ashani,” Renod pointed out coolly. The Pact had been born as a breakwater against the Empire when it had still been on a path of military expansion. “We have no obligation under the treaty to join into other members' military conflicts. If we had, this organization would have torn itself apart centuries ago.”

  “And what of your obligation as a living being?” she spat, weariness and anger mounting within her. “You'll sit by and let billions die, just because a piece of paper says you're not contractually obliged to help?”

  “My obligation as a living being is to my people, Mairwen,” he consciously forgot her honorific. “My obligation is to not have tens or hundreds of thousands of our soldiers killed in a war that's not theirs. Besides, your orbital defenses are the envy of us all,” Renod retaliated. “An integrated, layered system you have kept for yourself despite our requests for technology sharing.”

  “Don't you dare!” Mairwen gasped, her skin paling. “Don't you dare talk business when my world faces death.”

  “This is diplomacy. Get used to it,” the Agama representative levelly shot back.

  “Please, ladies and gentlemen, let's keep this civil!” Serrok Setiawan chipped in. “The issue at hand is our response to the Dominion's attack.”

  “Yes, indeed it is. So, what is the Komerco response, ambassador?” Renod presented a feral grin, putting Setiawan on the spot.

  “Personally, I'd like to help the Érenni Republics and Tuathaan Clanholds, I really would. We've had stable relations for a long time, and I've also personal business interests in both your nations. However, the First Echelon has decided that the Komerco Militia will stay within our own borders.”

  A chorus of shouts broke out as members of the meeting began to discuss and yell at one another. Besides the Tuathaan Clanholds, the Komerco fielded the most numerous military force in the Pact, and despite the somewhat discouraging name of 'Militia' the industrial powerhouse's armed forces were highly professional.

  The Komerco ambassador held up his four arms and shouted over the buzz. “We will offer medical aid and provide a safe haven for refugees. However, my government's position echoes the one of the Agama: we cannot be expected to fight somebody else's war, no matter our personal feelings on the matter.” He sank back into his chair. “I'm sorry, but the Komerco do not want this war, and we feel your two nations can handle the Ashani alone.”

  “Exactly!” Renod shouted into the fray. “You don't need our help. You just want to extend more influence over us!”

  “That is ridiculous!” Gwythyr roared in frustration. “More influence? Since when did the clanholds start taking part in those kinds of backdoor deals? Half the time my government can't even be bothered to send a representative here, and now all of a sudden we're supposed to be vying for control of the Pact? Don't you people understand? We have to stop the Dominion while we are still strong enough to face them from a position of strength! If we act now, together, we can end this war before it completely escalates.”

  “This is just lies!” the Rigaari representative piped, his white whiskers fluttering in agitation. “You're making the Ashani seem stronger than they are just to frighten us into joining your stronger Pact. An organization where the Tuathaan and Érenni will dominate us! Not with the children of Rigaar. We nearly suffered foreign domination once. We won't be suckered into a similar situation a second time.”

  “If I was in that room I would skin you alive and make a carpet from your cowardly hide!” Gwythyr yelled in fury, his fists clenched tight.

  “Of course, what else!” Renod pointed out laconically. “The Tuathaan way of governance: through force! But we won't fall for that, Gwythyr, you-”

  “Enough!” Mairwen screamed, drowning out the rest of them. “Enough! Can't you see yourselves?” Her deep, dark eyes seemed heavy with tears. “What are we? What are you? We are no Pact! It is small wonder the Ashani attacked us. We are nothing. A bunch of bickering marketeers, haggling and railing at one another as if this was a bazaar. Even with millions dead and dying we will not help each other. We stand alone, and we will fall divided. This is our last chance. I beg you, do you hear me? I beg you to send help!”

  The outburst forced the room into an awkward silence. They were all career diplomats here, and even though they came from very different societies, none of them were used to dealing with those sorts of emotion. Mairwen recognized the importance of this moment. The fall of the Érenni Republics would open the door for the Ashani to come in and roll up the Pact. If they did not see that, then the war was already lost, and all of them were dead sentients walking.

  Renod rose to his feet, his eyes blazing hotly. The Agama were one of the ol
der races in the Pact, having been honed to withstand their home world's ferocious climate for thousands of years of recorded history before they made it into space. They were a strongly religious, stratified and principled society, much more homogenous than most others. If pushed too far they fought with a zealot's vigor. He looked Mairwen straight in her tear-filled eyes.

  “No.”

  The frail Érenni female didn't respond. What could she have said in reply to that? With a single word her world was doomed.

  Each of the other Pact members began to echo Renod, each refusing to help, to get involved to save one of their own. Some justified their response saying the Érenni would be safe, that the Ashani were satisfied with taking the colonies and wouldn't risk an assault on their home world. Some, like Renod, just refused and left.

  When the commotion finally died down only the old Komerco politician still sat in his chair, his face dark with genuine sorrow as he faced the two holographic projections. “I am truly sorry that didn't go better.” His own voice sounded hollow to him.

  “How can we tell them to do the right thing when we ourselves have ignored it for so long?” Mairwen whispered sadly in a broken tone. “We're in the same position the Aetu were two years ago, and now we know what it's like to be forsaken.”

  Setiawan massaged the broad ridge of his nose with one of his four hands while the others unconsciously began to gather his belongings. “No, Mairwen. This is not over, not yet. I'll do what I can to convince my government to at least help. I appreciate what the Pact is meant to be and what it can do for all of us. And even if the others don't see or don't want to see it, I for one do recognize the danger the Dominion poses.”

  “Where the Komerco lead others might follow,” Gwythyr noted wearily. The past weeks, filled with one seemingly infinite string of terrible news and fiascoes, had sapped much of the strength from the old warrior. His heart didn't seem to truly believe what he had just said. They had stood at a crossroads and taken the wrong road. “If the three largest nations are at war, it just may be enough.”