by Ryk Brown
“We are about to depart, and I intend to leave you on Tanna.”
“Really?” Mister Dubnyk did not seem pleased with the idea.
“As you said, Mister Dubnyk, we are fighting a war. Our return to the Sol system will undoubtedly put us in harm’s way, and our chances of survival are uncertain at best.”
“And you think I would be safe on Tanna?”
“I suspect so, yes.”
“And the people of this world, they are willing to let me stay there?”
“I have explained your situation to them and all we know of you. Many of them seem curious to meet you. I think they wish to learn more about the core from before the plague.”
“I assumed you were keeping me here for the same reason.”
“I admit that I have my curiosities,” Nathan said, “but I don’t have time for such pursuits at the moment.”
“Am I to be a prisoner on Tanna as well?”
“That is up to them; however, I do not expect that to be the case. They have more pressing concerns.”
“And how am I to survive? Where will I live? What will I eat? I am an old man, Captain…”
“They have agreed to provide you with a small place on the edge of one of the villages. You will have a small amount of land, plenty of water, and access to the local shops and services. You might even be able to charge a fee for stories of the pre-plague core. Who knows? You may do quite well.”
“So I am to be a farmer and a storyteller,” Mister Dubnyk said.
“It is better than being a prisoner on a ship going to war,” Nathan reminded him. “The food might be better, as well.”
“I will miss your video entertainment database,” Mister Dubnyk said. “There are still so many to watch.”
“I can have a large number of them transferred onto a data pad if you like.”
“That is most kind of you, Captain.”
“It is decided, then?” Nathan asked as he stood.
“Do I have any say in the matter?”
Nathan shook his head. “Not really.”
“No matter,” Mister Dubnyk said as he also rose from his seat. “It does present new opportunities and challenges.”
“Yes, it does,” Nathan agreed. He extended his hand to the old man. “Your shuttle awaits, Mister Dubnyk.”
“I suppose thanks are in order, Captain,” Mister Dubnyk said as he took the captain’s hand and gave it a shake. “Thank you for rescuing me.”
“It was my pleasure, sir. I only wish we could have saved more of your people as well.”
“Yes. We all have our fates.”
“Good luck, sir,” Nathan said as he turned to depart.
“To you as well, Captain. To you as well.” Mister Dubnyk watched as Nathan left. “Opportunities indeed,” he mumbled, a mischievous look in his eyes.
* * *
“Captain?” Commander Taylor called from the hatchway to the ready room.
“Yes?”
“We’ve cleared the system and completed our first jump on our way back to Sol.”
“Nice not to have to do another gravity assist just to turn around.”
“Indeed it is. However, I still think it would be a good idea to continue the practice whenever it is feasible.”
“We can make it a standing order if you like.”
“Let me think about it some more.”
“How long will it take us to get back to Sol?” Nathan asked.
“With recharge layovers, about forty-five hours. Thirty hours will put us two and a half light years out.”
“I’d like to launch the jump shuttle as soon as possible. We need to try to establish contact with Jessica and the resistance on Earth.”
“The jump shuttle is going to be out of service for a few days. She took a beating delivering Team Four to the fuel depot.”
“That’s right,” Nathan said. “I almost forgot.”
“Lieutenant Montgomery has suggested we use the super-jump shuttle to make contact. With its range, it would only take half as many jumps for it to get back to Earth.”
“We need that shuttle to make the trip back to the Pentaurus cluster to ask for help,” Nathan reminded her. “Do you think it’s wise to risk it any more than we already have?”
“It performed perfectly over Tanna,” Cameron said. “I can’t think of a more rigorous proving ground.”
“Still, with the Falcon down and now Jump Shuttle One down as well, that would leave us without any jump ships other than the Aurora.”
“Jumper One can still fly,” Cameron said. “It just can’t close the back ramp or be pressurized. The flight crew can wear pressure suits just like they did during their combat jumps.”
“A bit risky, isn’t it?”
“A bit, yes.”
Nathan leaned back in his chair. “We really need to make contact with Jessica, find out what she’s learned. How many jumps would it be for Jumper Two if they departed from this location?”
“About seventeen jumps,” Cameron answered. “It would be a good test for Jumper Two’s new multi-jump computer.”
Nathan sighed. “Very well. Send them as soon they are ready. Have them make contact with Jess and report back as soon as possible.”
“Understood,” she answered. “One more thing, Captain. Sergeant Weatherly is detaining Lieutenant Telles just outside the bridge.”
“Why?”
“The lieutenant wishes to speak with you. I’m not sure the sergeant thinks it’s a good idea.”
“Tell Sergeant Weatherly to allow the lieutenant to pass.”
“Yes, sir,” Cameron said, smiling as she turned to exit.
Nathan called up the after action reports on his view screen and began reading. A moment later, Lieutenant Telles stepped into the room accompanied by the dutiful Sergeant Weatherly.
“Captain,” the sergeant called, “Lieutenant Telles wishes to speak with you, sir.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. That will be all.”
Sergeant Weatherly looked at the lieutenant with a suspicious eye. The sergeant was nearly twenty centimeters taller than the Ghatazhak lieutenant and several kilograms heavier.
The lieutenant looked up at the sergeant. “Is there something you wish to say to me, Sergeant?”
“No, sir.” The sergeant looked at Nathan. “I’ll be just outside, sir.”
“Thank you, Sergeant,” Nathan said. He waited for the sergeant to leave the room before continuing. “My apologies, Lieutenant. The sergeant takes his responsibilities as my bodyguard quite seriously, I’m afraid.”
“I have no quarrel with the man,” the lieutenant answered. “I respect his sense of duty.”
“Please, have a seat,” Nathan insisted, pointing to the chair across the desk from him.
The lieutenant looked at the chair out of the corner of his eye. “No thank you, sir. The Ghatazhak do not sit in the presence of a superior officer.”
“Superior?” Nathan laughed. “Hardly. Higher ranked? Only by circumstances, Lieutenant.”
“It is not the person to which we show respect, sir. It is the rank. No offense intended.”
“Of course. Your team was quite impressive,” Nathan said. “I don’t know that our own special operations troops could have done the same.”
“While the mission was successful, it was hardly challenging, sir.”
“Really?” Nathan leaned back in his chair. “Cold-coasting across a system for thirty hours in a meditative state, then landing on a small moon? You don’t find that challenging?”
“That was simply mathematics.”
“What about the meditation part?”
“Meditation is not unique to the Ghatazhak.”
; “I’m confused, Lieutenant,” Nathan said, “and rather than run down the list of impressive acts on the part of you and your platoon, I’m going to let you say what you came here to say.”
“I wanted to be sure you did not take this victory as an example of things to come.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“These Jung, the ones that hold your world, they are likely of a different caliber than those that we faced on Tanna.”
“What brought you to this conclusion?”
“I have spoken with all of my squad leaders as well as some of the regulars. They all spoke of disorganized defenses, poor weapons skills, and lack of leadership during combat. These and many others speak of conscripts, of poorly trained men with low morale and little honor.”
“And what makes you think that all Jung are not the same way?”
“You do not conquer such a vast area of space with such men, Captain. You certainly do not hold one, either. I have seen little of your people, and I know even less of your world, but I suspect that your training and your sense of honor and duty are far greater than those that defended Tanna and her fifth moon. If that is the case, and the Jung defeated the forces of your world, then it is likely they are, in fact, better trained and more capable than the pitiful group of men we slaughtered on Tanna.”
Nathan looked at the lieutenant for a moment. The man stood there, steely-eyed, rigid, and as confident as could be. That which he lacked in stature he made up for in his very presence. The lieutenant was straightforward as well, which was refreshing. Nathan wondered if the man was even capable of telling a lie. “Then you also felt it was a slaughter?”
“A most distasteful one at that,” the lieutenant replied.
“Then you did not enjoy it?”
The lieutenant looked at the captain, his eyes squinting slightly. “Enjoy it?” He turned his head to face the captain squarely. “The Ghatazhak do not enjoy killing, Captain. Contrary to what the aristocracy of Takara might tell you, we are not bloodthirsty animals. That is simply how Caius used the Ghatazhak: as a tool to strike fear into the hearts of those he conquered and as a way to ensure the safety of his precious nobles.” The lieutenant paused for a moment, regaining his composure. “The men we killed in the Herculis system we killed out of necessity and for the sake of the mission given to us.”
“Including the technicians and noncombatants on the fighter base?”
The lieutenant looked at Nathan once more, although with a calmer demeanor than before. “Those men represented a direct threat to the mission and to the safety of the people of Tanna to whom you have promised allegiance.”
“Really? How so?”
“On our approach to the fifth moon, as we descended, we spotted a deep-space comm-array. It was on the back side of the moon. The moon is tidally locked. Therefore that array is always pointed away from the planet and is never visible by those on the planet. Garrett was unaware of its existence. Any of those men, combatants and noncombatants alike, could have gotten a message off before we were able to neutralize the array. Doing so does not require a weapon.”
“How do you know they did not get a message off?”
“I do not,” the lieutenant admitted. “I do know, however, that none of the men we killed managed to do so.” The lieutenant’s gaze returned forward. “We do not enjoy killing unarmed men, as there is no honor in doing so. We do recognize, however, that it is sometimes necessary. That is what makes us Ghatazhak. We do what must be done.”
“And if on a future mission I were to order you not to engage the noncombatants?”
“If your orders were contrary to the mission objectives or were in direct conflict with our sworn duties, we would ignore them, sir.”
Nathan could feel his pulse rate rising. “And what exactly are your sworn duties?”
“To protect the Aurora, her crew, and more importantly, her captain.”
Nathan was intrigued. “And who issued those orders?”
“Our directives were ordered by Prince Casimir of Takara.”
“If you were sworn to protect my ship, my crew, and myself, why did you agree to attack Tanna? After all, had you refused, we might not have agreed to help the Tannans.”
“The Aurora needed propellant,” the lieutenant explained. “She also needed a safe haven, a world from which to operate… preferably an industrialized one. Achieving these goals gives the Aurora, her crew, and her captain a better chance at survival.”
“Logical,” Nathan agreed with a nod.
“Also, had we refused to participate, I believe, based on your past history, that you would have attempted the attack on your own.”
“You’re probably right about that,” Nathan said, leaning forward once more.
“Many more people would have died, perhaps even yourself. We could not permit that to happen.”
“You might be right about that as well.”
“Captain,” the lieutenant said, his tone becoming more personable for the first time since he had been revived, “I did not come here to debate the morality of how the Ghatazhak achieve their objectives. That is the purview of philosophers and historians.”
“Funny you should say that…”
“I am aware of your educational background,” the lieutenant interrupted. “I came here to warn you that the next time you send the Ghatazhak into battle, it may not go as well as it did in the Herculis system. That is all.”
“Duly noted, Lieutenant,” Nathan said. “Thank you.”
The lieutenant returned to a more formal stance, his gaze again fixed straight ahead.
“Will there be anything else, Lieutenant?” Nathan asked.
“No, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
“Thank you, sir,” Lieutenant Telles said as he turned around and headed out of the compartment.
Nathan watched as the lieutenant exited. A moment later, Sergeant Weatherly stuck his head in through the hatch to make sure everything was okay. He looked at the captain. Nathan rolled his eyes.
“Reminds me of a few Marines I used to know,” the sergeant joked as he stepped out of the hatchway.
“I wasn’t going to say it,” Nathan said.
* * *
“What are you doing out here?” Synda asked as she stepped out onto the patio.
“Attempting to make contact,” Jessica answered.
“That’s what I thought. I brought you some tea.”
“I’m more of a coffee drinker myself,” Jessica said.
“So was I,” Synda said as she sat down on the steps next to Jessica. “Ever since the Jung came, coffee has become difficult to find, and when you do find it, it’s way too expensive.” Synda handed a steaming mug to Jessica. “Tea, however, can be made from just about anything.”
Jessica accepted the mug, mostly because it was warm. She sipped carefully at the hot beverage. “Not bad. A little weak, isn’t it?”
“Sugar is also hard to come by these days, even for these guys,” Synda said, pointing over her shoulder at the house behind them. “I don’t even want to ask if they have any lemons.”
“It’s fine, thanks.”
“How often do you have to do this?”
“Every few hours.”
“For how long?”
“Until someone answers.”
“That’s a lot of time out here,” Synda said as she pulled her collar closed against the chilly evening breeze. “Aren’t you afraid someone will see you?”
“The laser comm is under that box over there,” Jessica said, pointing at the cardboard box on the ground next to the patio. “The trick to not getting caught is to not look like you’re doing anything wrong. If anyone is looking, or if a satellite is looking down from overhead, I just look like some gal sitting
on the patio reading her data pad.”
“Clever,” Synda said, sitting down next to her on the steps.
Jessica pushed the send button on her data pad screen.
“You’re not worried someone will pick up that signal?”
“It’s unlikely. The laser beam widens so minutely that, even after a few million kilometers, the signal field is only about one hundred meters across.”
“Even so, wouldn’t it be easier to just wait for them to signal you?”
“How would they know where I am?”
“How do you know where they are?”
“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” Jessica said, turning to look at Synda.
“How else am I supposed to learn?”
Jessica rolled her eyes and nodded. “I’m following a predetermined comm-schedule. I know exactly where to aim the signal beam during each comm window. If they are out there, they will pick up my hailing signal, lock onto my beam’s point of origin, and aim their beam directly back at me. Easy as that.”
Synda looked up at the night sky. “Still seems like something out there might pick up your signal by mistake.”
“It’s possible, but again, highly unlikely. I’m pulsing the signal. It’s only on for a second, and it randomly pulses at intervals between five and ten seconds. Someone or something would have to be at the right spot, at the right moment, and even then they would have to remain there for several pulses to get a fix. Things in space don’t stay still.”
“Then how will your friends find the right spot?”
“They’ll be approaching along the same line as the outbound signal beam.” Jessica looked at Synda. “For someone who wanted to join the EDF, you sure don’t know much.”
“I never got in, remember?” Synda said. “How am I supposed to know anything?”
“Usually, people who apply already have some sort of skill or degree to help get them in the door. What were you planning to do?”
“Anything they would have let me,” Synda said. “It doesn’t matter now anyway.” She looked out at the distant mountains. “All I want to do is get some gear and disappear into those mountains.”