Dremiks

by Cassandra Davis

  All of the Dremikians in the receiving line were senior diplomats. Each wore a bizarre looking necktie of a different, vibrant, hue, made all the more absurd by their otherwise naked forms. Ambassador Dawk G’ Trujkulis stepped forward. His almond shaped head bobbed from side to side so violently that, if he’d had them, his ears would have bounced off his shoulders. Dremikians didn’t have ears, though. What they did have were comically long introductions. The Ambassador, Dwax’s father, gave way to three Senior Councilors, each with his or her own excruciatingly long speech.

  Dr. Ruger couldn’t see much of this presentation. Captain Hill stood beside Chancellor Trell, who was flanked on his other side by Vice-Chancellor Hill. Behind the captain, Lieutenants Guttmann and Price were shoulder to shoulder. Dr. Fortunas, beside Price, turned his head and frowned at the tiny woman buried behind a seeming row of giants. He reached out, tugged on her hand, and inserted the doctor between himself and Price. She flashed the scientist a grateful smile, but he was already facing forward again, seemingly entranced with whatever High Councilor Drak-Dvawls was saying. The military officers remained rigidly at attention, hardly blinking. Trell occasionally shifted his weight. Standing upright for that amount of time probably wasn’t good for his over-burdened joints, Ruger reflected.

  The exterior of Rhyse station looked like the conglomeration of a child’s toy jack and the worst excesses of metallic sculpture. It was hard to tell where the original six-armed structure ended and centuries of branching additions began. While the outside of the station was angular and harsh, the inside appeared warm and inviting. The floors and walls were covered in a soft coating that gave slightly, like walking in wet sand. Relative humidity several percentage points higher than they were accustomed to, made the delegation from the Hudson begin to sweat.

  Dwax, in order to prepare for this meeting, had returned to the space station in a Dremikian craft as soon as the Hudson slipped into orbit around the station. He stepped forward, after the leader of the Dremikians had finished his speech, and introduced Captain Hill. The captain bowed his head in greeting, but kept his remarks brief. He was happy to yield the floor to Chancellor Trell and Ryan. The captain prided himself on his ability to maintain a calm demeanor and on rigid conformity to regulations, but he had his limits. He quickly lost patience with diplomats, politicians, and long winded speeches. He wanted to be doing not listening.

  The only female in the Dremikian delegation moved aside and motioned for Captain Hill and his officers to follow her. The humans would not have known her gender if Dwax hadn’t informed them ahead of time. Male and female Dremikians looked exactly the same. “If the doctors wish to come as well? We will let the diplomats talk. There is a reception this way, for you and your men and doctors, if it please you, Honored Captain.”

  “The chancellor and vice chancellor?” Brett spared a look over his shoulder at his brother, but Ryan was engrossed.

  “They will talk, as is their way.” She clicked something in her native tongue to Dwax, who had been following along beside them. He stopped and looked distressed—or what seemed to be distress. The captain wasn’t entirely sure he’d correctly catalogued the full range of Dremikian facial expressions. Whether upset or merely nonplussed, Dwax glided away, leaving Captain Hill, lieutenants Price and Guttmann, and doctors Ruger and Fortunas, to follow Senior Councilor Dvar-Draz.

  “I believe you will find this company better for talking,” their escort said as she preceded them into a room. “Honored guests, here are the finest minds of Dremikian engineering and transport. Doctor Ruger, it is my honor to direct to Dlax-Draz, premiere medicine doctor of our people.”

  To the shock of the men accompanying her, Cassandra Ruger nodded once, then bobbed her head from side to side and spoke the traditional greeting of Dremiks. Dremikian language, with its dueling constants, clicks, and chirps, was incredibly difficult for humans to learn, much less perform flawlessly in front of so many strangers. Dr. Ruger smiled charmingly at her alien counterpart and immediately started chattering with him regarding the differences in physiology between their species.

  Captain Hill inclined his head toward Dr. Fortunas. “Did you know she could do that?” He didn’t need to wait for an answer, because Ben’s face was still frozen in shock. “I take it you didn’t. Mind sticking close to her?”

  Fortunas studied the room for a minute, and it seemed, incongruous though it was, that he was mapping out the exits. “Don’t mind at all.”

  Price, hands clasped behind his back, frowned at the backs of their civilian counterparts. Guttmann voiced, in a whisper, what both the captain’s subordinates were clearly thinking. “Trouble, sir?”

  Captain Hill scanned their hosts, the room, and his fellow humans. “No, but stay alert.” He turned a shockingly wide smile on Councilor Draz and listened politely to her introductions.

  “I’ve never seen so many of them in one room, before,” Tony whispered to Swede.

  “I’m sure they are saying the same thing about us,” the engineer muttered out of the side of his mouth. “At least we don’t have to worry with protocol about who eats what first.” They had not been offered food or drink. Edible refreshments were apparently not part of the Dremikian greeting ritual. Swede stepped sideways to avoid treading on the leg tentacles of a yellow-necktie-wearing alien who seemed to be waving his arm tentacles in greeting. “This is a bit like...”

  “Like watching the spawn of fist pumping rhythm dances and octopi porn?” Tony chortled at the expression of disgust on his shipmate’s face. “Aren’t you glad we aren’t eating?”

  ***

  On the Hudson, Commander O’Connell had one leg curled underneath her while her fingers tapped out a rapid rhythm on the chair arm. Ensign Chi was in engineering, while Robertson manned the communications station. Robertson seemed pouty when he reported for duty, but the commander quickly forgot about his mood. She had an entire four hour watch with the ship to herself. There were no course corrections to be made, no drones to deploy, no systems to calibrate. There was no captain around to think up new ways to keep her busy, either. She could listen to music, hum along, and generally relax.

  She should have known that wasn’t going to last.

  The captain’s voice cracked like a whip across coms and startled the commander into instant alertness.

  “Captain?”

  “Spool up the engines, Commander. I want the Hudson out of orbit and moving the minute we get on board.” Before she could process that command, he barked another. “Belay my last. Move the ship from orbit now, and we’ll dock while in transit.”

  O’Connell blinked at her heads-up display as if it could give her answers. Despite her jumbled thoughts, she instinctively replied, “Aye, aye, sir.” She deftly entered commands into the drive computer while calling Chief Turner and ordering him to take over in engineering. Her mind registered the change in vibrations beneath her feet—both of which were now firmly planted on the floor.

  “Ma’am, Rhyse Station wishes to know our intent.”

  “Intent, Ensign?”

  “Ma’am they can easily register the change in engine heat and infer…”

  “We’re going walk-about.”

  There was brief moment of stunned silence. “Ma’am?”

  “Stretching our legs, taking the old girl out for a spin, wandering…”

  “Ma’am!” This time the ensign’s exclamation sounded irritated and worried.

  “I don’t give a damn what you tell them Ensign. In fact,” she leaned sideways to slap at a control at the co-pilot’s station. “Don’t tell them anything at all. Communications blackout.” While Robertson stared aghast, at her seat-back, she called Price on his implant.

  “You copy me?”

  “Five by. This is going to be a bit dicier than per usual.”

  She hummed in agreement. “Situation?”

  Price reached above his head to marginally adjust a slide lever. “Normal.”

  Maggie’s breath r
ushed out. Situation: normal, in military parlance, was most often followed by “all fucked up”. The acronym had made its way into wider vocabulary as SNAFU. Price was obviously choosing his words carefully, which meant the captain was agitated but had, at least, given the lieutenant some idea why the official party had been cut short.

  Lights flashed on her display, and O’Connell had to focus on getting the ship underway. She sent Chi to man the lander bay once Turner relieved him in engineering. A small Dremikian craft sped across the Hudson’s bow before taking up position along her port side. A quick check of the radar showed that the human ship suddenly had a small flotilla of escorts.

  “Price.”

  “Ma’am.”

  “You have made so many new friends!”

  “I’m a charming guy.”

  “Well, if you’re always going to be bringing your rowdy parties home, we’re going to have to curtail your social calendar.”

  “Aw, mum!” He actually chuckled. “You’re going to slip to port and drag the stern when that bay opens.”

  “No shit.”

  “Just making my pilot aware of the environment, like a good second-seater.”

  She grimaced as the escorts veered closer to the hull.

  “Your new friends are very hands-on, Lieutenant.”

  His voice was tense when he answered. “I see them. If they get much closer…”

  “The shimmy created by the bay opening will slam us into them. I know.” She checked the radar. Dremikian ships hovered above the Hudson, at the bow, and amidships. Only the stern and the area beneath the ship, where the gravity well projected, remained clear. Concern creased her brow.

  She called the captain on his private channel. “Sir, the addition of those escorts changed this maneuver from mildly strenuous to incredibly dangerous. Do we really need to do this?”

  “They don’t want us landing on Dremiks, Commander. The Dremikians would prefer we never even see the planet. They wanted me to stay as their guest while we work-out alternate arrangements. You can do this, O’Connell. Get us on-board and get to that planet.”

  “Roger that.” She clicked back to the lieutenant’s channel. “Price you’re going to be coming in hot. Have the captain help with the reverse thrusters during switch-over.”

  Price muttered “Oh shit.” He turned to the tense man beside him. “Sir, you need to help me. I’ve got to get us in the bay, right now, and that means going full throttle. I need you to fire the reverse thrusters the minute we’re in the bay.”

  The captain’s eyebrow arched. “Because?”

  Jaw clenched in concentration, Price couldn’t spare a moment to look back at his commanding officer. “Because if you don’t we’re going to punch right though the bulkhead. She’s got to put the Hudson in a full stop to get away from those escorts. If the ship shimmies while surrounded by those little craft…”

  “It will be like a rampaging elephant in a vineyard.”

  “Just so, sir.”

  Lieutenant Guttmann leaned forward from his position in the jump seat. “She can’t just stop on a dime. Inertia alone will keep the ship moving.”

  “Sit back and strap in!” Price barked the command. He didn’t have time to explain his actions. The hull of the Hudson loomed large through the front windshield. Price lifted his hands from the controls long enough to flex his fingers. With a grimace at the captain, he touched the keypads again.

  Every stomach dropped as the lander lurched downward. Price worked to align the nose of the smaller craft with the landing bay. They stayed far enough back to maintain steerage, but close enough to dart in the moment the doors opened.

  O’Connell bit her lip. She sounded the collision alarm. Chief Turner murmured through her ear piece to let her know the engines were ready. The Hudson rocketed forward. Their nominal escorts matched the larger ship’s speed. O’Connell slid her fingers down the screen, throwing the engines into full reverse.

  “Now!”

  In the lander bay, Chi smacked the locking mechanism to the off position. The massive doors slid away. As all of the air in the bay was sucked outward, the nose of the Hudson slid half a degree to port. The trailing Dremikian ship on that side passed within three meters before veering away in panic.

  The lander surged into the bay. Captain Hill applied the reverse thrusters. Lieutenant Price threw the switches for inter-atmosphere flight so the lander could briefly hover before touching down. The bay doors slid shut. The Hudson dropped down and rolled to port. The lander’s starboard engine showed a heat warning. Price shrugged and shut both engines off. The craft dropped to the deck with a reverberating clang.

  “Oops.”

  The captain didn’t acknowledge the lieutenant’s comment. He rested his head on the seat back and closed his eyes. From the back of the lander, Fortunas said: “Ow”. Price laughed. The captain, eyes still closed, cracked one of his rare smiles. When the lights in the bay flashed green, both of the men in the front of the lander released their seat restraints.

  “Price get to the bridge. Guttmann make a note to strip these engines down for heat repairs, but right now I want you in engineering.” He stood, facing the back of the lander. “Doctors, my apologies for our abrupt departure. I will have more information for you soon.”

  Chapter 17

  The captain arrived on the bridge right before Price. Both men buckled into their seats.

  “Nice flying you two. Commander, please take us into orbit above the planet Dremiks.”

  She leaned her head until her right ear touched her right shoulder, trying to stretch the knotted muscles in her neck. With a quick, pointed, glance at Price, the pilot moved her hands on the screen. “Our escorts, sir?”

  “Are welcome to join us. I don’t believe they will instigate aggressive action. Keep in mind, though, that are effectively holding the chancellor and vice chancellor hostage. I do believe you can avoid any mishaps, Commander.” His comment was more of a challenge than a statement of confidence.

  This time the look O’Connell gave her co-pilot was more pointed. She was dying to know what had the captain so agitated and willing to break the rules—all of the rules, apparently. Price shrugged, either unwilling or unable to give her any clues.

  At their current positions in their orbital tracks, Rhyse Station and Dremiks were only three hours travel time apart, assuming the Hudson traveled at her max speed.

  “Continue communications black-out, sir?”

  The captain thought about that for a minute. “For the moment. They’ll be screaming for us to return, and I don’t feel like debating with them. Maximum speed, Commander. I want us there now.”

  “ETA two hours fifty-seven minutes, sir.” Price checked his data. “Dremiks is currently in aphelion, which shortens our travel time. We can begin collecting sensor readings now. Basic infrared and radar readouts.”

  “Proceed.” Unable to sit still, the captain sprang from his seat. “O’Connell you still have the watch and the con. Page me with regular updates.” The rest of the bridge crew noted that their captain didn’t bother to explain where he was going. He stalked to the lift with a stony expression.

  As soon as the lift doors slid shut, a collective sigh slipped from everyone’s lips.

  “On task, people. Robertson maintain communications blackout. Start the programs running for data analysis and make sure Fortunas is aware.” Maggie turned her head to stare at her co-pilot. “Assuming we brought him back?”

  Price was still busy typing in commands to bring the Hudson’s sensor arrays on-line. “Fortunas and Ruger, yes.” He starting rapidly typing a message on the panel in front of him. The message appeared on a small screen on the portion of controls that stretched between their two seats.

  Dremikians separated party right after intros. Trell and VC Hill stayed with diplomats. Doctors + us to other room.

  “Robertson, why am I not getting radar returns from the moon Najif?” O’Connell kept glancing between the typed narrative f
rom Price and the bridge controls.

  Somewhat testily, the ensign replied, “There’s some sort of interference, ma’am. I’m working to filter it.”

  What’s his problem?

  Don’t know/care. They put you in a holding room?

  No, had reception w/ medics, scientists, engineers. Very polite.

  “Ma’am, there’s heavy magnetic and infrared disturbance in the approximate location of Dremiks.”

  Price growled something under his breath. “Dremiks is in a known, fixed, orbit, Ensign. There’s nothing approximate about the location of an entire planet. Keep working on it and get Fortunas working the data as you were ordered.”

  Captain comes up 15 min. in, looks like someone pissed in his beer, says to follow him. Has Fortunas acting like he’s sick. Ruger’s acting all concerned. Dremikians arguing the whole...

  Price’s typed narrative was interrupted when he physically twisted in his seat to glare at Robertson, who was once again offering a suggestion. “We could launch a probe, ma’am?”

  “Communications blackout, Ensign!”

  “Easy, Price,” O’Connell whispered. “Ensign, a long range probe has to send back data to us, which it cannot do if we’re purposely blocking all communications. There’s also the small matter of us being surrounded by smaller ships that could be damaged by the probe or destroy the probe after we launch it. Probes are expensive. I will not be launching one just because of a bit of interference. Back to work, please. Get Chi up here to help you. He’s not needed in engineering if Guttmann is back down there.”