by Jean Johnson
(Data dump?) Li’eth asked. They couldn’t run now; there were too many bodies scrambling either toward the communications room or toward their guard posts. The beeping from her wrist unit was a warning that the Salik were invading the V’Dan home system. Where was still unknown, but as their backup Ambassador, McCrary had to flee to safety. That much he knew.
(Everything that this embassy has recorded, up to the second the alarm goes out to evacuate Rosa, gets dumped into portable storage. It serves as a black box of information up to that point. Including our comm call with the Choya Grand High Ambassador,) she added. There were now fewer people in the halls though the communications hub was now a bit crowded. (Everything from this point on gets sent live to Earth. They’re still too far away to help directly, but they’ll know what’s going on . . . and if nothing else, they’ll have a record of all negotiations for the next Ambassador to study.)
(That’s a rather grim thought. I’d rather you did not die,) he warned her. Brown- and blue-clad bodies made room for them at the central workstation table. Two were clad in the gold and scarlet of the Imperial Fleet.
“Report,” Jackie ordered, rather than responding to his sending.
“Fourteen Salik warships came out of the black at V’Durun, Colonel,” Robert reported. He was the seniormost officer on hand until her arrival and pointed at the star-system map covering most of the surface.
“That’s the eighth planet in our system, an ice world about four light-hours away,” Grand Captain Tes’rin told her.
“I know,” Jackie reassured him. “Robert convinced me to establish a hyperrelay there in exchange for free hydrofuel since water is a ‘waste’ product once the methane and such has been siphoned off for processing into your version of fuel. What’s the tactical situation? How many V’Dan ships are there? Do we have any of ours in the vicinity?”
“Embassy 3 is inbound, low on fuel but fully insystem,” someone said from a workstation beyond the main table. “They have enough for maneuvers and some lasers, but only enough juice for two short jumps at best. They’re fourteen light-minutes away, but they’re the closest ship we’ve got.”
“Embassy 14 is inbound, but they’re still in the . . . NHK-4148 System, one jump away,” another aide added. “They got the alarm while still at one-third Cee. They’re ramping up to half Cee so they can jump, but are holding course and awaiting orders, sir.”
“Embassy 8 isn’t due back for another three hours; they’re still processing lunar ice around that new Gatsugi colony, Brown-Valley-Green,” a third told her. “Their captain says they can jump short on fuel with just a little more, but it’ll still take half an hour to get into space and up to speed.”
“Embassies 10 through 13 are being readied for takeoff. Embassy 2 . . . has McCrary in sight and will be launched in two,” a fourth reported. “All others are too far away to help, sir.”
“From the looks of things, V’Durun has twenty-eight combat-capable ships at the moment, but they’re outgunned by the warships,” Tes’rin stated. “Launch your ships and get them to here, and here,” he added, touching the map so that it zoomed in on the nearspace around the eighth planet, cold and white with blue striations.
V’Durun had a large moon—almost large enough to be a binary planet partner, though it still circled its partner far more than the other way around—and the Salik ships were a bright red scattering of triangles near the space station orbiting the far side of that moon from the planet. He tapped the map as he continued.
“You bring them in there, harass them, and the other ships can attack from here, above here, and from down here, forcing them away from the planet and its satellite,” he told them, touching the display. The Terrans blinked at him. He looked up, lifted his brows, and said, “Well? Launch your ships! You are the only ones who can lend your help to the people out there!”
“Stand down, Grand Captain,” Jackie told him. Her heart ached—she knew Li’eth could feel how awkward she felt, having to do so—but she said it anyway.
He bristled, straightening. “These are V’Dan lives at stake! You have to go help them!” He looked at the others, then at Robert. “Launch those ships. Now.”
Commander Robert Graves eyed the Imperial Elite Guardsman and shook his head. “Sorry, meioa, you are not in our chain of command. None of us are gonna take orders from you.”
“Grand Captain Tes’rin, your expertise on the ground is appreciated. Please confine your directives to that and only that,” Jackie reminded him. “Now, be quiet, and remind yourself that your job is to help ensure the safety of this embassy zone. You are not trained to command a fleet of foreign warships . . . and you have no clue what our ships can and cannot do. Be silent, and be respectful.”
“I thought you were supposed to be adults, full of responsibility and compassion for others, not children only playing at being ones,” he countered.
Every Terran stiffened, but it was Li’eth who found his voice first. In an icy tone, he demanded, “One of the jobs of the Elite, when assigned to an embassy, is to be courteous and respectful at all times. You owe these Terrans an apology, Grand Captain. You are not aware of the strategic needs of the Terran fleet in this war, and you have no say in their tactical choices. Apologize.”
“. . . I apologize, Grand High Ambassador. I apologize to your people as well. I . . . spoke out of turn, when I spoke out of concern for my fellow V’Dan. I hope you will find a way to save them, and find it fast,” Tes’rin added.
As apologies went, it wasn’t the best. Barely adequate, in fact, and a bit accusatory. Jackie didn’t have time to chastise him about it, though. “If those fourteen warships are the size of the one that captured the Aloha 9, then our handful of ships aren’t going to make more than a dent in the Salik attack. Adding in our forces will not stop their attack, and it will only put Terran technology and Terran personnel in grave danger.”
One of the workers beyond the ring of soldiers at the table spoke up. “Ambassador, the Embassy 2 has taken off.”
“Sir!” another aide called out. “Embassy 15 just got to the Choya home system. It looks like they’re under attack as well.”
“Have the 15 pull a broad parabolic,” Jackie decided. This was similar to a scenario she, Graves, al-Fulan, and Admiral Nayak back home had discussed over the hyperrelays. “They are to scan, but not engage; at the first sign of pursuit, they are to leave the system and not go back for six hours. Tell the 14 to continue on course but not jump just yet. Order the 3 to release one-quarter of their missiles and have them random-walk into striking range so that the Salik won’t be able to trace them back to their point of origin all that quickly.”
“Launch the 10 through 13 and have them short-jump out to V’Durun,” Robert stated, catching on to which scenario she was using. “They are permitted to launch one-quarter of their own missiles, and let the 13 take up a position on the insystem side of V’Durun, so it can coordinate the launched missiles carefully with the Embassy 3. Use them when it looks like the Salik are going to be at their most vulnerable—remain at least ten light-seconds away, and do your best guessing on when to throw a missile their way. Instruct the 10, 11, and 12 to spread out in a triangle around the planet and its moon, and fly a parabolic at about twenty light-seconds out.”
Jackie nodded and laid down the law, her eyes flicking briefly to Tes’rin’s face. “All personnel. None of our ships are to get within engagement distance. I repeat, none of them are to engage the enemy directly. The 3 and the 10 through 13 are to watch the Salik carefully, and only target their missiles if they have a good shot at damaging the enemy without harming the locals,” she added, glancing at Robert. “Their foremost job is to watch and plot every possible escape vector used by the Salik warships.
“Coordinate their findings with V’Dan astronavigation in the Imperial Fleet. We want to know where they are headed next. It might be a system with a hyperr
elay, or it might not be. We’ve been prioritizing stringing the lines of communication to the various Alliance capital worlds, not necessarily to our nearest occupied neighbors. But I repeat, we will not engage the enemy directly. That would be suicide.”
“The tests we performed,” Robert told the others, “showed that our ceristeel hull plating is vastly superior at reflecting and dissipating heat from energy weapons, and they can take a hit from a projectile, but our infrastructure materials are inferior to what your ships are made out of; the bulkheads will buckle and break twice as fast as anything the Salik have. The Embassy fleet cannot take on a single Salik warship and survive without heavy backup at this time, but it can watch to see which way they go,” he explained, looking over at Tes’rin, “and in doing so, figure out if they have a specific target they are going to hit up next, whether that’s insystem or not.”
“That is something we can do, and do well with our ships, Grand Captain,” Jackie told him. “Without slaughtering our people or destroying our ships needlessly. To do otherwise would be like trying to throw pebbles at a horse in the hopes of slaying it—and I know you V’Dan have horses among your d’aspra animals. We carefully considered this sort of scenario both before leaving Earth and reconsidered it just days ago after the data from the firing tests were done being analyzed. This is the compromise which the best Navy personnel here and the Command Staff back home could come up with, given our limited resources, limited combat capacity, and even more limited refueling abilities. We are bringing in heavier armaments, but they are not here right now.”
“It is a sound choice,” Li’eth reassured her and her fellow Terrans. “It isn’t all that far off from what I heard at the Fleet’s discussion a few days back, while you were doing your morning exercises. We might not be able to get spare ships to V’Durun in time, but we can instruct the Imperial Fleet to get ready to take off and head outsystem on a moment’s notice. If it looks like they’re going to scatter, we can have rescue vessels there in just a few hours. If it looks like the Salik are headed in the same direction to a second target, we will be ready to go after them.”
“Colonel, I recommend advising the Embassy 14 to come straight in to home base here on V’Dan,” Robert told Jackie. “I know they were supposed to swing out toward the Tlassian sector once they refueled at V’Durun, but we might need them here in case this is a feint, and the Salik switch course to hit the capital.”
“Do it,” she ordered. (Li’eth . . . I won’t be able to leave until I can give the all clear and bring Rosa back. I’m sorry. Duty has to come first when lives are on the line. Even if we can’t save every life out there. Not even if all fifteen ships went to fight.)
(I know,) he reassured her. His hand found hers and clasped it with a little squeeze. (This is war. People are going to die, no matter what we do. We’ll have a better chance at getting the Salik this way later—and if nothing else, Master Sonam said that what we really need is just sleeping together, skin to skin. I’d be very happy with that alone.)
(Your mother said nothing overnight,) she reminded him.
(My mother didn’t say anything about the Salik interrupting us, either. Besides, I’m your military liaison, as well as cultural facilitator,) he reminded her. (I cannot leave until this particular fight is all over, either . . . and it could take all night.)
Sighing, she raised her voice. “Okay, people, we have a long night ahead of us. This battle won’t be resolved in a few minutes. If you’re not actually needed at this point, stand down and get some rest . . . and if one of you could kindly get His Highness and I some coff . . . er, some V’Dan caffen, that would be great.”
(Thank you for remembering I cannot stand your version,) he half teased.
(I admit yours tastes better. We just need to increase the caffeine content to make it actually useful for us Terrans, is all,) she half teased back.
JANVA 24, 9508 V.D.S.
Three hours later, just a little past midnight local, it was all over. Between some well-placed missiles—not all of them, but some had struck their targets to very good effect—and the unexpected arrival of three V’Dan warships, the mining settlements on and around V’Durun were battered and bleeding, literally and figuratively. But they were still mostly inhabitable and mostly intact.
More than that, the Salik fleet had retreated and jumped along two similar vectors . . . and the Embassy 12 and Embassy 13 had been ordered to jump to the two systems in that direction that were possible targets. They carried the news to the main inhabited planet of that system, as well as intended to visit the outlying space stations. Neither system had relays, yet. That was another reason to send the ships; it would take four jumps and a refueling for the turnaround, but they would have communications abilities . . . which played havoc with the schedule of systems that should have gotten those two units, but that was the potluck of war.
It would take the Salik over two full days to reach either of those locations, but that was fine; V’Dan warships were in pursuit. They had been alerted almost instantaneously via the fledgling network of Terran hyperrelay communications linked to V’Dan lightwave channels the moment the watching Terran crews had realized the Salik vessels had started to flee in a specific direction. The whole thing had been vastly superior to finding out about the battle over four hours later via slow-moving lightwave broadcasts.
Despite the very real and unpleasant loss of lives, the battle of V’Durun was being viewed as a success. As much as the V’Dan strategic analysts wanted to go over this cobbled-together dry-run version of what the Terran ships should do, because they could do it best with the least loss of lives . . . it was late, almost everyone was tired, and it could all be analyzed in the morning, when lightwave telemetry was matched to what the Terrans had broadcast of the battle.
Li’eth kept expecting another ambush or emergency of some sort, but they made it to Jackie’s quarters unbothered. Like her office, most of the furnishings were V’Dan though there were distinct touches from Earth. Her office had one of her surfboards mounted on the wall, bearing a vibrant, intricate image of Aloha City and the island’s south shore in a long, panoramic shot taken from some boat a little way from land. He recognized the Tower, the Lotus, and the buildings that served as temporary dwellings for the constantly rotating guests of the Fellowship, though the angle was lower than he had seen, gliding into the capital in a private shuttle.
From the gossip in the Winter Palace, visitors to the Grand High Ambassador of the Terrans thought it was merely some sort of odd Terran combination of painting and sculpture, and not an actual, usable object. The second board, decorated in abstract lines of red, cream, and gold, had been donated to the Empire along with V’Dan-subtexted videos demonstrating how they were built and how they were used. His people were still trying to figure out the why of that latter part, according to rumor.
The third board, hung on the wall of her parlor across from the entrance, he had not seen since Jackie had packed it away. It bore giant blooms of flowers, all of them bearing five petals in a swirl. Some were blush pink or rich red with darker centers, others were yellow with hints of red at the bases. Many were peach in hue, and one particularly beautiful flower, deep red striated and edged with darker purple, sat at the back of the board, above the fin on the opposite side. Bits of greenery poked out here and there from under the blooms painted on the board, making the elongated oval a vivid, welcoming splash of color on the whitewashed walls.
“I miss surfing,” Jackie murmured, palming the door shut behind him. “Even during the busiest of weeks back home, I could always get away for an hour or two. I was rarely away from a tropical beach and a surfing shop where I could rent a board for a little while.”
“I’d like you to have that free time. I just keep telling myself, ‘when the war ends,’ then try to find a way to make it end.” He turned and pulled her into a hug, but only for a few moments. Long enough to yawn beh
ind a quickly raised hand . . . which she echoed. Resolutely, Li’eth stepped back from her. “We need to go to bed. Both of us are tired, and we need to be sleeping horizontally, not leaning against each other until our knees give out, and we fall down.”
“Agreed.” Taking his hand, she led the way, gesturing vaguely. “Private kitchen and dining area, private study, front washroom, spare bedroom, spare bedroom, master bedroom with its own washroom . . . but you’ve already had a tour.”
He grinned, then yawned again. Once he was done covering his mouth—a courtesy concept both V’Dan and Terrans shared, which was good because the Choya, Tlassians, and Solaricans didn’t like seeing bared teeth without actual provocation—he started unbuttoning his jacket. The drawback to sleeping here instead of in the Imperial Wing was a distinct lack of fresh uniforms to change into. “We’ll need to set the alarm to go off at sixth hour.”
“I thought you got up at seventh?” Jackie asked. Her voice was muffled by her dress being pulled over her head.
“I do, but I . . . huhh . . .” He lost his train of thought. Her undergarments were rather unlike a swimming garment.
Jackie blushed. She started to bundle up her dress, then changed her mind. Snapping it at him, she whapped his arm with the hem. “Snap out of it. The Terran military is unisex integrated. Now, you were saying you wanted to get up at sixth hour?”
“Uhh . . . yes.” He dragged his attention away, mind conflicted between those curves and the fact they were markless. Returning his attention to his own clothes, he draped his uniform jacket over the back of a chair and sat down to remove his boots. “Sixth hour, because I’ll need to return, wash, and change clothes, and meet with V’kol to discuss my schedule. He’s been doing a lot of the behind-the-scenes work, so mornings are the only time I really get to see him. The rest of it is through the comms.”
“I’ll set it.” Moving to the bedside clock, she bent over and fiddled with the buttons.