by Will Crudge
Councilman Gerhardt never bought in to any of it. Achieving an appointment to the UAHC Military Quorum was the most shocking thing that had ever happened to him. Especially since, he was the youngest ever appointed at age 87. Although he barely looked a day over 30. His two years sitting in one of the most powerful positions ever held by anyone throughout all of human history had shattered any notion of collaboration. He had, or up until now, believed he had access to the most sensitive information of all the human civilizations in existence. Nothing had ever made him believe that humans had established any verifiable contact with a non-human entity. He would now have to reevaluate his beliefs.
He realized the shuttle was now resting still. He looked out of the port hole on the main exit door and could see the craft had perfectly maneuvered itself within a few inches of the platform. He realized there was no welcoming committee, no signs, or any at all. He just stood slightly hunched and wildly maneuvered his neck in all different directions to try and figure out what was out there. After several minutes of confusion, he decided to take action.
His suit anticipated his thought process by reading his brainwaves and automatically engaged the magnetic plasma energy shield with a load-burst of energy followed by a brief flash of light. The energy shield covered the exposed parts of his head, neck, and shoulders. It resembled highly polished glass with a tiny tinge of blue. A second later his personalized HUD appeared in his field of vision. Updating in real-time, his HUD started giving him atmospheric compositions of the air he was breathing, the air in the cabin of the shuttle, and all of his vitals. He had to mentally remind himself that his power suit was more ceremonial than functional. He had struggled to get used to the antiquated systems when he took his mantle as a politician. The standard power suits he had been accustomed too were radically more advanced, and boasted serious on board sensors and direct neural interfaces. The ancient HUD his formal suit boasted was redundant considering his optical implants. His suit became more of a formal dress than functional combat uniform. But it still protected him from the cold vacuum of space when it had to.
Gerhardt stepped out on to the platform with his eyes transfixed on the semi-transparent surface. He could see the sleek architecture of ancient super structures below his feet. They went on for what seemed to be dozens of kilometers, and wrapped around the naturally occurring features of the gigantic rock of which they were attached.
“Greetings, Councilman!” The voice startled Gerhardt as he realized he had become transfixed on the wonders of this alien construct. He turned his head towards the direction of the sound.
“I trust your journey was not too trying for you?” This time he could see the entity who spoke the words.
“Yes…” He tried to focus in on his new companion. “I’ve been through much worse.”
“Excellent!” The entity spoke with more enthusiasm this time. Gerhardt could now fully see the being as is glided towards him. It seemed to have what could only be described as a soft male voice, and a very reserved tone. “I am Staff Viceroy Keltic.” Keltic wore a long garnet colored cape-like garment that betrayed nothing of his features. He appeared thin, but at about 2 ½ meters he appeared to be tall by human standards. The conspicuously ornate purple collar wrapped around what Gerhardt could only assume was his shoulders.
“As you already know who I am, you’ll forgive any rudeness if fail to introduce myself” The Councilman said with a friendly smile.
“Of course!” Keltic spoke with joyful tone and a polite bow. “Walk with me, would you?” Keltic stepped out and turned while he gestured with what Gerhardt could only describe as a tentacle that momentarily slid from the crease running down the center of his robe. The greenish tint of his extremity matched the color of his rather large oval skull and in descript facial features.
“Certainly...” Gerhardt almost stuttered. “I am very eager to learn why it is I am here, and what exactly here is.”
“Here, as you put it. Is where all the advanced races of our galaxy come to forge peace?” They continued to walk towards a large an exceedingly ornate arch that reminded Gerhardt of old art deco architecture from Earth’s past.
“Races?” The Councilman almost choked on the words. “How many? And what would you define as advanced?”
“By advanced, I mean to say…” He paused seeming to choose his next words carefully. “Having the ability to wage interstellar war, but without any desire to do so.” Keltic spoke as if he were trying to soften the blow of any offense he may have given.
“I see. Well, that explains why I’m probably the only human to have been invited here.” Gerhardt said it bluntly. “Humanity has plunged itself into war after war since we began to develop any semblance of a society. Of course, the recent two centuries has been the longest stretch of relative peace we’ve ever seen.”
“Century. I adore that term. Lucky for you, I am one of the few non-human entities that would even begin to understand what a century even is.” He spoke with a tone of reverence. “But… Humanity still has a vast potential for warfare. You’re technology has been driven by it, and at an alarming rate. Your race is one of the youngest sentient species in the galaxy, however your technical development has outpaced what is normal for any.” Keltic seemed to understand the dynamic of this conversation very well. He paused to allow his human companion a moment to digest the enormity of this revelation.
“Outpaced?” Gerhardt broke the silence after a moment to reflect on the incredulous statement. “It’s taken us thousands of Earth years to develop. From the time we first broke out of our own atmosphere, to the time we could venture into interstellar space…” He cut himself short and refocused. “We’ve barely had the capability for interstellar travel for two millennia.”
“Millennia...” Keltic spoke with reverence once more. “Yes. But most races socially evolve to abandon war before they even colonize other heavenly bodies, let alone leave their own systems. Humanity is an ever-growing threat to galactic peace. What your race has accomplished in the last ten thousand of your Earth years is nearly ten times more rapid than most. The most disturbing part of the equation, is that war seems to have been the catalyst for most of it. Many of the races represented here are more… intelligent, per say…” Keltic paused as he sensed a hint of frustration from the Councilman. “But, Humanity has somehow broken through technological and societal barriers with a profound enthusiasm… But with the ever present capability of waging war.”
“So…” Gerhardt realized he was trying to scratch his head, but it was gently repelled by the energy field covering his head. “Why have I been so… secretly summoned? It’s apparent my people are not ready to be indoctrinated in this… Institution. So, why? What am I doing here?” He was so passionately involved with forming his words, he never noticed passing through the large arch and into an even more impressive interior. He paused and looked around in awe. Keltic seemed to patiently allow him to take it all in.
“Weapon.” Keltic abruptly broke the silence. This time his words were almost cold and to the point. “Humanity is the greatest threat to our peace within this galaxy… But is perhaps its greatest weapon.”
Don’t Call Me Sir
Location: Tangine Station, Interstellar Port, Open Space
Date Time: Post Interstellar 07/24/4201 1126HRS Local
System: Sol System, Mid Region
The 14 hour trip was uneventful, and they arrived at the station’s controlled space 43 standard minutes ahead of schedule. Darius wished he could have tried to establish a secure connection during their journey, but that was too risky. Commercial shipping lanes were filled with too much traffic – too many prying ears – to rely on civilian encryption. Darius woke to the sound of Samantha’s voice.
“Good morning, Gunnery Sergeant!” The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere as the fighter’s AI delivered her greeting.
Darius rose from his bed and rubbed his eyes. “Why so formal, Sam?”
“Please
! This is the most time you’ve spent with me since you left active duty!” Samantha said with glee.
“What! I’ve been coming to visit my favorite AI nearly every day.” He grimaced as he began to wash his face by the tiny sink.
“We BOTH know who you were coming to see!” Sam was being cheekier than usual.
“Hey, this bucket is your baby too.”
“Yes, I know, silly… That doesn’t change the fact that you barely come inside unless you’re asking me for a systems status… Or to get a beer out of the birthing fridge.” Sam knew how to get under his skin.
“I almost forget you spent years running the show on that destroyer. You always had human trash muddling around inside of your hull.” Darius wasn’t good at showing empathy, but he managed to make it sincere. It wasn’t that he was incapable of empathy, but in the last several years he felt more emotionally detached. “This little job should keep this bucket’s tanks full, then we can trek across the stars for a while.”
Sam’s icon flashed a thumbs up in Darius’s built-in optics display. “Hey! No poking around in my innards without asking first!” He spat his toothpaste as he spoke.
“Sorry! Geeeez! I know you miss your armor’s AI.” Sam almost seemed a touched threatened. She had never been installed in armor before, and could never be.
She was a being of pure code and algorithms. She may have been written and brought to sentience by other AI’s, but she was created to handle combat vessels and orbital military installations. Only AI’s derived from a mapping of a human mind could be embedded one on one with combat troops. She lacked the human-like instincts required for close quarters combat. Ship to ship combat, however involved vast distances between combatants and an entire command crew of humans. Split second life and death decisions are far less critical for an AI to have to manage when you’re thousands of kilometers away from the enemy.
“Oh! Kara is hailing us.” Sam seemed to almost interrupt herself.
“Put her through on audio. I’m not decent yet.” Darius realized he was actually fully dressed, but he instinctively felt vulnerable without his armor.
“Such a gentleman!” Sam knew how to make the big man blush.
“Greetings! Apparently you’re not dressed yet either!” Kara’s voice made Darius suspect she was a morning person. “I see you patched audio only… Apparently you’re more bashful than I am!” She sent a digital wink icon through the cockpit HUD. Darius barely noticed it in his peripheral vision.
“Apparently so. Well, we did make good time. I guess when you let a pair of grumpy old NAV systems to work together, they gain speed and vector better.” Darius referred to the ancient NAV systems that both fighters had on board.
“Yeah, well I guess they’re designed to pool their resources with other ‘90’s, but I’ve never co-navigated with another one before. Kinda neat!”
“What would be kinda neat would be a wake-up call ahead of time.” Darius meant it as a sideways jibe towards Sam.
“Hey!” Steve, the AI aboard Kara’s ’90 chimed in.
“Easy now! I know you two were hibernating and letting these old clunkers do their thing!” Kara said with a chuckle.
“Back to business, folks.” Darius was used to bringing both human and AI back to the present. He climbed up the short stairway forward of the birthing area, and strapped himself into the pilot’s seat.
“Kara, this is your show. You’ve got the purse strings after all.” Sam was referring to requesting approach vectors and docking assignments for the station.
“Looks like they beat me to it! STA is hailing us. I’ll keep it on full audio net.” Kara patched the Station Traffic Control signal through.
“Tangine STC, this is Major Kara Elders aboard the private fighter Skull-Crusher. Do you see my transponder burst?” Kara Elders spoke with a level of confidence that Darius had yet to hear from her.
– Major-
The word was familiar yet alien to him. Especially when his beloved UAHC military didn’t have a single officer. Not for nearly two centuries that is…
“Major Elders, your verbal and transponder IDENT match and are confirmed. Please have your companion follow suit.” The voice of the STC controller was female and robotic sounding. It was symptomatic of a human who did it so much, they began to sound mechanical, and rarely spoke with inflection.
“Tangine STC, this is UAHC Fleet Gunnery Sergeant Darius aboard private fighter Doom-Raptor. How do you read my data burst?” Darius rarely spoke the name of his fighter. All LRF-90’s had a unique name that was assigned on the assembly line. He didn’t name it, so it seemed impersonal to use it often. He had several seconds to reflect on it while the reply had to cross the vast expanse before them.
“Gunny Darius, I have you matching. Be advised we are upgrading your docking from standard to VIP. Thank you for your service to the UAHC!” The STC controller’s voice now came with inflection and enthusiasm. Even with millions of UAHC Soldiers across the human sphere, it was exceptionally rare for civilians to see one, let alone speak to one.
“Wow! Just wow!” Kara sounded shocked. “I’m a Major, for fucks sake! And here the enlisted guy is treated like a demigod!” Kara said half-jokingly.
“I’m not enlisted.” Darius spoke with little emotion, and with the calmness of a Zen master.
“I know, I know. You’re in an inactive status.” Kara replied.
“What he means is,” This time Steve interjected. “The UAHC Fleet doesn’t have either enlisted or officers. The term enlisted implies that a non-commissioned citizen volunteers for military service for a prescribed amount of time on a contract, and voluntarily submits to the orders of the officers in his chain of command, and the directives of the non-commissioned officers appointed above him or her.”
“Okaaaay…” Kara was noticeably wrestling with this in her mind. “So, if you have a rank that is traditionally an enlisted rank but you’re not enlisted then what the fuck are you? I heard rumors you Fleet guys don’t even have officers – at least not anymore, but… I’m confused.”
“It’s simple.” Sam spoke now. “The UAHC did away with commissioned officers nearly two hundred years ago. Consequently, they did away with the concept of enlisted personnel as well. As the concept of military service was rapidly overhauled, there became one career path. A man or woman could only serve in a career status for life. No more contracts, no more commissioned officers, no more enlisted. Only Soldiers… Which is why in UAHC controlled space, the term Soldier is considered a formal title. You are either a Soldier, or not.”
“But wait a minute.” Kara was calmer now, but still conspicuously flustered. “What ranks are in command if you have no officers? In the other sovereign entities of the human sphere, only commissioned officers can legally order military engagements, or command ships in combat.”
“The UAHC is not at war.” Darius continued to speak calmly. “Our government purged our traditional officer corps due to the political toxicity and the corruption it brought about. We barely survived won the last war. Our civilian leadership was so disgusted with the power the Fleet officers had amassed for themselves, that they threatened to overtake their civilian superiors.” Darius stopped to take a long breath.
“Their commissions were stripped, and control of the fleet was given to the enlisted personnel. It’s true that enlisted personnel had no legal authority to wage war, and still don’t. However, the enlisted oath of service pledged their ultimate allegiance to the civil government, versus the officers’ oath that pledged to the admiralty. That solved the immediate problem, but you still had a vast military controlled by personnel who were not trained to command ships in combat, nor have the vast strategic knowledge of their commissioned predecessors. So, the concept of enlisted personnel was abolished. Soldiers are neither, but act as both. We train in boot camps, academies, and even as Soldier Candidates in a cadet status that shadow operational units. By the time we graduate from 15 years of intense training, we are fully
versed in how to be led and how to lead. We master every aspect of combat. Infantry, Special Ops, Ship Ops, and both tactical and strategic knowledge… And we do it ALL before we earn the title of Soldier.”
“Words can’t even…” Kara didn’t know if she was less confused or more confused. “So, the UAHC Fleet is comprised of millions of highly trained killing machines that can do a little of everything, but can master anything?”
“Bingo!” Sam said as she sent Kara an image of a thumbs up.
“No wonder you have a god-like reception here on station!” Kara spoke as if she had finally grasped it.
“Speaking of which- how’s about we initiate our deceleration burn on our newly acquired vector? K, guys?” Steve’s words had no shortage of sarcasm.
Hailstorm
Location: Tangine Station, Interstellar Port, Open Space
Date Time: Post Interstellar 07/24/4201 1430HRS Local
System: Sol System, Mid Region
“I must say, running a full scale warship may be stimulating, but the Doom-Raptor has its perks!” Sam spoke for the first time since they started their deceleration burn into the inner station lanes. “This thing decelerates much faster than a million-ton chunk of metal!”
“Do we have visual?” Darius’ emotionless words lacked inflection, and implied that he wasn’t too chatty at the moment.
“Yes, on screen.” Sam replied. “Not too sociable right now are we?”
“No offense, Sam. My MEDLOG keeps filling up the data chips, but there aren’t any anomaly warnings. The chip registries don’t even register close to being full. I don’t get it!” It was a problem that started a few months back. Darius had noticed the issue had become progressively worse. The MEDLOG was a chronological record that his MEDNANO filed on to removable storage chips. Had he still been stationed aboard a Fleet vessel, then it would upload directly into their net and chips would be irrelevant.