by M. D. Hall
Jaron nodded. Thirty minutes later, he was alone in his ready room and had just received confirmation, the others were ready to proceed. Walking on to the bridge he gave the order to exit the Weft.
The three warships appeared at points well short of the spy ship’s temporary home. The first few seconds after leaving the Weft were when a ship was at its most vulnerable. The field enabling travel through weft space took a few seconds to dissipate, during which time it was not possible to erect defensive shields. Usually, this did not cause a problem as it was possible, while still in the Weft, to scan some distance beyond the exit point.
As soon as shields were in place, Jaron gave the order to advance. Starseeker pulled ahead, followed by the others in a staggered, flank formation. Nebula, immediately aft and to port of Starseeker, had already sent rendezvous coordinates to the spy ship. No sooner had the message been acknowledged, than the tiny ship left her hiding place within the debris cloud.
Scans showed the presence of the two man spy ship and, much further afield, the three Balg transport ships. So far, so good, thought Jaron.
Starseeker and Plasma Trail swept past the tiny ship. The distance between them and Nebula increasing, as she slowed to rendezvous with the spy ship. All scans confirmed the four ships were completely alone. As Nebula deactivated her shields to allow the smaller ship to dock, the spy ship flared out of existence. Reyat, Starseeker’s tactical officer, checked for the information he knew his commander would demand, and shook his head. ‘Sir, I can’t tell where that came from.’
In answer, six Balg warships appeared. It was as though a cosmic hand had whipped away a huge black cloth. The Balg opened fire immediately upon both Nebula and Plasma Trail. In the moments before Nebula could erect shields, it took heavy damage to its weapons systems.
Because Starseeker was ahead of the others, it was beyond the initial onslaught. Jaron took one glance at the tactical holosphere with its reams of data; figuring out how the Balg appeared out of nowhere would have to wait until another day, if there was to be another day! Two of the Balg ships turned to bring their larger, front mounted weapons to bear upon the flagship. Jaron guessed he had fifteen-seconds, and gave an order to Reyat, that no one else could overhear.
Every pair of eyes on the bridge regarded the commander with horror. Most were unaware of what he intended to do, but they all knew he had deactivated defensive shields. Jaron ignored them, his eyes locked on tactical. ‘Now?’
Reyat did not need to be told twice. The seconds ticked away as the Balg ships continued to turn. Just as the enemy was coming into position, the tactical officer nodded.
‘Execute!’ the commander barked.
Starseeker was in weft space, and safe. Jaron strode over to the tactical console indicating that his XO, Practaa, was to follow. The two of them looked at the holosphere as Reyat stepped back, maintaining a respectful distance. Science was not Jaron’s strong suit, but tactically he could hold his own with most. He called up a scenario and looked at his tactical officer. ‘Well?’
Reyat scrutinised the hastily constructed plan and became agitated. ‘I don’t know, there isn’t enough time, although…’ for a few precious seconds he stared at the data, ‘…yes!’
‘Do it!’ Jaron replied. His XO said nothing.
Ω
Back at Gallsor, Jaron’s old friends did not have time to consider their superior’s hasty retreat. All six Balg ships were now concentrating their fire upon the remaining Te’an cruisers.
Nebula and Plasma Trail had turned to outrun the enemy, diverting what little power remained, to the failing rear shields. All the while their shields were up they could neither launch the escape pods, nor erect a weft field. It never occurred to Bakir that Jaron had been right to be cautious because, even with his caution, they were still finished.
Ω
Jaron paced up and down, looking at the holosphere and watching for the change he needed. ‘The scans?’ The data was displayed, and he simply shook his head, who would have thought it? He looked hard at his tactical officer. ‘How reliable is this?’
‘I can’t be precise, sir,’ the younger officer was clearly nervous.
‘We don’t have the time Reyat, just give me your best estimate of our chances.’
The tactical officer took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly before answering. ‘Based upon the limited scans, I would say…no better than thirty percent!’
The only visible sign of Jaron’s turmoil was him clenching his fists. ‘How long do we need?’
Reyat responded, without hesitation. ‘Ninety-seconds, sir.’
‘How long do they have?’
‘Half that.’
‘Then we go in thirty-seconds!’
Reyat was shocked. ‘But, sir, we won't have time to erect shields.’
Jaron permitted himself a grim smile. ‘I don’t think that’s going to make so much difference, do you?’
The tactical officer shook his head.
The three weapons officers had all tapped into Reyat’s data, ready as they would ever be.
Ω
Nebula’s shields had given out completely when Starseeker appeared between her, and the Balg ships. Just as the Weft field collapsed, the flagship fired on all enemy ships. At the same time a single command was received on the bridges of the besieged Te’an ships. ‘Leave!’
Plasma Trail dropped shields and began to erect a weft field; Nebula had no shields to drop.
The Balg were taken by surprise, and the time it took for them to open fire upon the newly returned Te’an flagship, gave her the precious seconds she needed to erect shields. At the same time her sister ships entered the Weft, and she was alone.
The second part of Jaron’s plan was activated. Starseeker powered between two of the Balg ships, targeting the weakest part of their shields. Both their respective starboard and port shield emitters were disabled; he then ordered his weapons officers to stop firing.
‘Sir?’ the most senior of the three asked.
‘You heard me, cease fire.’
The XO approached his commander and spoke in a voice that could not be overheard. ‘Now what?’
‘We wait.’
Practaa knew better than to ask Jaron what he was waiting for.
None of the seven ships moved.
If it was possible for the silence of space to be even blacker, then they had achieved exactly that.
That silence was echoed on the bridge of Starseeker.
Jaron had taken the biggest risk of his life. He counted on the Balg only acting in self-defence, knowing that he could only, at best, disable two of their ships. He also knew that they were so close together, he could use their unwillingness to accidentally hit each other, to his advantage. If he failed to disable any of the ships it was over.
Now that the first part of his plan had worked, he had taken his crew into totally unknown territory.
He could significantly damage, if not destroy, two of the ships, but the remaining Balg would make short work of Starseeker. Alternatively, the Balg could withdraw, and no one else would die. The only flaw in his logic…they had already destroyed the spy ship. He could only hope that three thousand lives, plus the lives on the two Balg ships would give them pause for thought, but even that might not be necessary, if his theory was correct.
Minutes stretched into hours, as Jaron watched for a sign his plan had worked. In all that time his bridge crew waited, they were unable to do anything else. That wait would be echoed throughout the ship. Then, as quickly as they had appeared, all six Balg ships were gone.
Knowing it was pointless, he ordered a scan of the area. As he expected, there was no trace of the Balg. Satisfied they were alone, he sat in his command chair looking around at his officers. They were waiting for the order to return home, but there was something else he had to do. Turning to his XO he issued the command. ‘Have Reyat complete his scans for the remains of our spy ship. Bring him to me, and let no one know what he finds.’
<
br /> Practaa nodded his compliance.
Jaron retired to his ready room and waited, and wondered. Perhaps he was looking for a mystery where there was none, but, he thought, by rights, we shouldn’t be alive, so we’ve nothing to lose. Soon he would know.
A few minutes later, the XO entered with the young tactical officer in his wake. Reyat looked uncomfortable as Jaron called up the results of the scan on his own holosphere. After double-checking, he swivelled his chair until he was facing the young officer. ‘Ensure this information goes no further. Now you may return to your station.’
Reyat nodded, before leaving the ready room.
Jaron looked at his XO, who answered the unspoken question. ‘It makes no sense.’
‘I’d agree with you, if it was the only strange thing that had happened today.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I haven't decided, yet,’ he looked back at the hologram, signalling he wanted the room to himself.
Alone in his ready room, Jaron looked again at the results of the scan, and recalled everything that had happened since they entered the Gallsor system.
Several minutes later, he walked on to the bridge and addressed his navigation officer. ‘I think it’s time we went home, Mr Ciurat.’
21 years ago
Te'ath
Ω
Vaaris stepped off his anti-grav gondola with his sons, before the craft sped away to await its recall. He looked at Nirjan and Beron, both now twelve. While they were similar enough to be taken for brothers, no one would imagine them to be twins. Beron, born three minutes after his brother, was taller, but any misconception that he was the elder evaporated when they spoke. Nirjan was more sophisticated than his brother by quite a marked degree, far more than could be accounted for by a mere three minutes.
Nirjan looked up at the enormous building that lay before them. This was where their father spent his time when not at home, the Basilica of the Supreme Council. He never tired of his trips to this place. Here, their father was revered as one of the thirty most powerful men and women on Te’ath and its colonies. One day, he would take his father’s place, it was expected, and what he wanted. Looking at his brother, he knew such thoughts never entered his head. Beron’s dreams lay elsewhere, and for that Nirjan was sad, knowing his brother was to be disappointed.
As Vaaris led the boys through the vestibule to the seat of all Te’an power, they were approached by two men, both quite short and a little overweight. Unusually, they were almost bald, but for curly grey hair above their ears, leading around to the back of their heads; no one on Te’ath was bald, unless by choice. That, however, was not the most striking thing about them, they were absolutely identical, right down to the clothes they wore. ‘Nirjan, Beron, this is Garnoth, one of the three heads of the Agency.’
Beron looked at his father, confused. ‘Which one of them is Garnoth, Father?’ Before Vaaris could reply, the boy spoke directly to the men. ‘Are you twins? My brother and I are twins.’
Both twins smiled, but only one of them spoke. ‘You must be Beron. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, young man. I am Garnoth and this,’ he indicated his double, ‘is my Avatar!’ The mirror image bowed, extravagantly.
‘What’s an Avatar, sir?’ asked Beron.
Garnoth smiled, indulgently. ‘It is a machine construct with an artificial intelligence, which contains all of my memories.’
‘Why do you have one?’ Beron persisted.
‘I can send it to places, which are too dangerous for me.’
‘Why would you go anywhere dangerous? Aren't you a council member, like my father?’
The Agency head chuckled, and Beron decided he liked the man. ‘No, I am not that important. I collect information to help important people, such as your father.’
Vaaris chose this time to break his silence. ‘Now, boys, we mustn’t detain Garnoth. Despite what he says, he is a very important man, and must be allowed to go about his business without answering silly questions.’
Garnoth replied. ‘It was no trouble, my dear Vaaris. Your boys are charming. I do not have much opportunity, these days, to tell anyone what I do. It was refreshing,’ and with that he bowed, the Avatar remaining stock-still.
The two moved away, leaving the threesome alone. Beron’s eyes followed the strange pair, while his brother looked at Vaaris. ‘Garnoth seemed pleasant enough, Father.’
Vaaris looked over his shoulder to the twins as they approached a teleport station. ‘Beron was talking to the Avatar, it’s one of the games Garnoth likes to play,’ he replied.
‘Why would he do that?’ asked Nirjan. ‘Isn’t it cruel?’
‘He does it to unnerve his enemies,’ replied his father, as he turned back towards his sons.
‘I bet his friends think it’s funny,’ said Beron, who was ready to laugh.
Vaaris looked carefully at the two boys, and decided that now was as good a time as any for them to learn about his world.
‘What friends?’
Nirjan and Beron looked at each other, but only one of them had any inkling what their father meant, and neither had any chance to say anything, as Vaaris had already set off to the offices of the Civil Support Staff, where they would be looked after until he returned from his meeting.
21 years ago
Meeting of the Supreme Council on Te’ath
Ω
It was the third day of the Assembly and all evidence, concerning the incident at Gallsor, had been considered. As with every Council decision, there was a split over the action to be taken. Some believed Gallsor was the impetus needed to launch a full-scale attack upon the Balg home world. Others, Vaaris included, took the more pragmatic view that Gallsor finally demonstrated Balg military superiority, and the war had to end.
The only persons allowed to be present throughout the Assembly were the thirty Council members, and a single representative of the Agency. On this occasion, the representative was Garnoth, if that was not a misnomer when his doppelgänger was also present.
Zenthar, who had become the unofficial spokesman of the pro-war lobby, stood up. He was the representative of the colony on Padarl. The main source of its limited wealth, was agriculture, so as well as being the smallest of the colonies, it was the least influential. Despite this, the delegate from Padarl had, over the years, garnered quite a following on the Council, all colonials. Vaaris was convinced it was because he gave voice to their, parochial, concerns. Who better, he would sometimes think, to speak on their behalf than a petty, small-minded bureaucrat, incapable of thinking beyond the tiny horizons he has created for himself? Yet, Vaaris knew he ignored this self-important little man at his peril.
‘My esteemed friends, and Garnoth,’ Zenthar smiled pleasantly at the spymaster and his Avatar, one of whom nodded acknowledgement, ‘the simple truth, is that conquest has been our way of life for over four and a half thousand years. Let us be honest with each other, we know of no other way to satisfy the ever increasing appetite of our citizens. Remember, in addition to Te’ath, we have fourteen colonies and each one is hungry, Padarl is already at optimum habitation. In only thirty years we will be in decline,’ his fellow colonials murmured their empathy. ‘I don’t intend being remembered as the one responsible for curbing the desires of my people. We have committed to this war with the Balg. From our long range scans, we know their home world would be perfect for our needs, there are no other viable options open to us.’
Everyone knew to what hunger Zenthar referred. Throughout recorded time, all Te’ans craved space, it was the one thing they treasured above all things. By the time they had developed interstellar travel, each citizen had not only a city home, but also a villa by the sea, as well as one inland. They were of varying sizes and quality, but it soon became apparent, that as the population grew, there would be insufficient land to service their cherished lifestyle.
Travel to the stars promised a solution to that problem, but the reality did not live up to expectations, at l
east not to begin with. Most of the planets discovered were not fit for human habitation, and those that were, required a complete change of the Te’an mindset. That change proved to be unnecessary when the explorers made their first human, non Te'an contact.
By the time of the conflict at Gallsor almost two and a half billion Te’ans occupied fifteen worlds, to say nothing of the inhospitable worlds they systematically stripped, and mined.
Zenthar gave way to Vaaris. ‘The evidence is clear, Zenthar, we’re outmatched. Until now, the Balg have been content to keep us at bay, but we can't be sure it will always remain that way. The Gallsor incident is their message to us: Stay away, or else!’ He looked at the faces around the table, before adding. ‘You say their home world would be perfect for us, perhaps you’re right, but it’s beyond our reach. Does anyone here seriously think we can afford to carry on like this, forever? More to the point, if the Balg turn on us, and become the aggressors, what will we do then?’
‘What would you have us do, Vaaris?’ Zenthar retorted. ‘We have no alternatives, and I don’t believe Gallsor is evidence of Balg superiority. We could have taken out two of their ships, with sufficient numbers we could have done even more damage.’
Vaaris shook his head, he would never convince Zenthar, a provincial who only came to pre-eminence by galvanising the other colony representatives to consider, with suspicion, anything suggested by the more urbane home world representatives. In this way, Vaaris grudgingly accepted, the man had a modicum of political savvy, but otherwise he was a fool. ‘It seems we’ll never agree on what Gallsor means, but surely, on a pragmatic level, you must agree we need to direct our attention elsewhere?’
‘There is no elsewhere!’ Zenthar proclaimed.
Vaaris called up a large holosphere in the centre of the room. ‘As you can all see, there are untapped areas on three off world colonies. Despite being small, they will provide some respite,’ he knew the weaknesses in suggesting these worlds.
The thinly veiled contempt in Zenthar’s response was apparent to everyone, not least Garnoth, as he watched the interchange with interest, patiently awaiting his moment. ‘We all know why those colonies were left alone. They are easily defended, and can't be taken without heavy ground losses. At best, they would give us only a few years of breathing space, nothing more. The Council decided, long ago, that they weren't viable and nothing has changed.’