“Yes, of course,” he answered, smiling. “As I told Ms. Samair when this ship was officially launched, I am incredibly excited to have you joining my crew. I look forward to our working together.”
The AI paused. “Thank you, Captain. I did not expect such a warm welcome from you. As a leader of a warrior clan, I expected you to bark orders at me and tell me to fall into line.”
He smirked. “Well, I’m not saying that things won’t get to that point, especially if discipline requires it, or in high-stress situations, but that’s not my command style. I want you to feel welcome.”
“Thank you, Captain.” There was another pause. “And a name?”
“Well,” Raydor said, glancing at Tamara. “If it’s all right with Ms. Samair and with you, of course, if you’re able, I’d like it if you selected a name for yourself.”
“Well, then I am the Persistence of Vision,” the AI replied promptly.
The two humans laughed. “I think you can do better than that,” Tamara said warmly. “It’s a bit… formal.”
The AI faded back into the datanet and considered this. She had already decided her gender: female, for some reason the idea of a warrior female appealed to her. She accessed the historical and literature files for First Principles as well as the Seylonique public information net. With the light speed lag, it would take several minutes for the information to get back, so she cancelled the search on the planetary net.
It took nearly an entire second for her to choose an appropriate name, one that she decided “felt right”, to use a human colloquialism. “Briseis,” she said.
“I think that is an excellent name,” Kol replied, beaming. “Briseis it is.”
“Thank you,” Briseis replied, sounding pleased. The bridge holo projector activated bringing to life a statuesque, brown-skinned woman, human, beautiful, but cold. She was dressed in a floor length cream gown, with a gold belt and a gold pendant around her neck. Her black hair was long, straight, spilled over her shoulders and down her back. In her hands, she wielded an impressive spiked mace, which had gold inlaid into the handle. The chilly expression on her face slipped, thawing considerably as she turned a circle. “What do you think?” she asked, sounding slightly unsure.
Tamara smiled. “You’re gorgeous. I’d say the perfect warrior Queen.”
Raydor nodded, his smile not slipping. “As long as you remember that I’m the Captain.”
She smiled, looking archly at him. “As long as you remember that I am the ship.”
Raydor raised an eyebrow. “I appreciate your candor and your will, Briseis, but this ship is meant for keeping the peace, protecting FP’s and Seylonique’s people and property. We are not here to prosecute a war.”
She seemed to consider this. “I understand there is a pirate threat, one that has had resources and ships close to this system.”
Tamara nodded. “You’re correct. A pirate strong enough to destroy most of a Republic task force and capture their outpost at Byra-Kae.”
Briseis frowned. “Then it seems that at some point, it might become necessary to prosecute a war.”
“While I appreciate and even agree with that point,” Kol replied, “Neither you nor I get to make that decision. For now, our mission is to protect this system from the inside. But if and when the time comes to take the fight to the enemy, don’t worry, Briseis, you will be right at my side when we do.”
She looked at him and nodded. “Thank you, Captain. And I understand the command dynamic of this ship.”
“Briseis, please do not cause trouble here,” Tamara said, sounding tired. “I do not need a clash of wills between the captain and the AI of FP’s most powerful warship.”
Briseis nodded again, lowering her weapon. “I do understand, Tamara Samair. I will not cause strife.”
“Thank you, Briseis.” Then her tone lightened. “And you can call me Tamara. Using my full name sounds so… formal.”
“I understand. But in formal situations, I should refer to you by your rank, Commander Samair.”
She sighed. “Yes, Briseis, that would be fine.”
Kol looked between the two females, frowning. “Commander?”
“That’s my military rank in the Republic Navy. I’ve long been on… detached duty, you might say. But my title within the company is Captain. I hold a captain’s commission within First Principles, as well as my COO position.” She made a simple statement, there wasn’t any pride or arrogance there.
Kol eyed his boss for a long moment. “You lead a complicated life, ma’am, if you don’t mind my saying.”
Tamara winked at him. “You don’t know the half of it, Captain. But, we,” she said, indicating Kol and Briseis, “need to get started on some exercises. I would like to make sure all of the ships and crew get some practice. I’m thinking that it might be a good idea for the gunnery and damage control departments to get some practice too.”
“I’m thinking that might be a good idea, ma’am,” Kol said. “And what about your fighter squadrons? Maybe we can do some mock battles, powered down weapons and such.”
“Korqath will be disappointed. The Aploras and the new squadron, the Xi'ganz, are out at the Kutok mine. Looks like the Twin Novas get to play.”
“You have forty starfighters out at the gas mine?” Raydor asked.
“It makes sense, Captain,” Briseis cut in, before Tamara could answer. “The fuel source is of the utmost importance. The various ships, stations and even ground-based businesses all require fuel to operate. It makes sense that Commander Samair would deploy a larger force there. Adding one of the corvettes on fixed patrol there, as well as a roving patrol of one of the other warships means that the most precious of the company’s assets will be protected.”
“Not just the company, if what you’re saying is accurate,” Kol said. “Sounds like it’s in the best interests of everyone, including the government, to keep the gas mine protected.”
“If I had more ships, I would put one of the frigates at the mine, as well,” Tamara replied. “We have another corvette under construction, which I think will be stationed here at the shipyard and then Mondragon will take a turn out at the mine when she gets back.” With the looks she was getting, she shrugged. “What? Leicasitaj and his ship and crew have had several turns protecting ship convoys, I think it’s time that Tsesuko gets a chance.”
Kol nodded. “Makes sense. And I also get the feeling that it will be unlikely that Persistence of Vision will be getting the chance to leave the system anytime soon. As FP’s biggest asset, I’m seeing visions of short and long patrols around the system.”
“Which means that you need to have your ship prepared for the worst. The last thing I want is for pirates to pop in and we can’t respond properly.”
“Ouch,” the captain replied, wincing. “Yes, ma’am. Let’s get simulations going then.”
Chapter 26
“Running sensor sweeps of sector 25-22189,” the operator replied, trying to hide the boredom in his voice. The Yad’gul was on a patrol toward the edge of the system, five light seconds from the hyper limit. They’d been out here for nearly a week, with nothing to show for it. The corvette was one of three ships in this patrol, which included another corvette, the Fest and the frigate Cairn, which had been deployed out in this sector to monitor for threats and incoming ships. For six days now, there had been nothing. The three captains had simply brought their ships out here and began running sweeps. Being sent on outer system patrol had the stigma of exile, since they were a long way from anything remotely interesting. Oh, being out on the fringes had its element of danger; there as the possibility of ships coming in at any time, but interstellar traffic in the Argos Cluster had been way down since the withdrawal of the Republic two and a half centuries ago. There had been three convoys of ships sent and returned from home, here in Ulla-tran, and two freighters that had come here from Seylonique, which had also gone back home. No, the operator decided, watching his console as the sensors did their
thing, being out here on the edge of the system just sucked.
His console beeped, jolting his attention back to the board. He had programmed the system to disregard Fest and Cairn so the fact that the system had just found something… “Whoa,” he said softly.
“What is it, Sweets?” the duty officer asked, stepping over to the sensor station.
“I’ve got something, sir. Hyper footprint,” the operator replied. He read the display and his eyes widened. “Holy shit!”
The duty officer slapped him on the back of the head. “Watch your language, Sweets!”
“Sorry, sir, but look!” He pointed.
The man sighed and checked the readings. “Holy shit!” He turned. “Take us to general quarters!” he barked to the comms officer. “And signal the Fest and Cairn. And get the captain up here immediately.”
A moment later, Captain Rebecca Sterns stepped out onto the bridge. “What have we got?” she demanded brusquely. “And this had better not be another surprise drill.”
“No, ma’am,” the duty officer replied, turning back to face her. “I’m reading a large flotilla of ships that just dropped out of hyperspace, a light second and a half from the limit. Sweets here,” he said, patting the man on the shoulder, who nodded, “just happened to be running a sensor sweep and picked them up.”
“Good work,” Sterns acknowledged and the man straightened in his chair. “What kind of ships?”
“There are five bigger ships toward the rear of the formation, Captain,” Sweets replied. “Their power output would indicate they’re civilian freighters. But with all the warships around, they could be troop transports.”
“What about the warships?” Sterns asked, checking her own chair monitor as the sensor feeds were sent over.
“These three here, ma’am,” the operator said, and the icons flashed, “Are corvettes. And this one,” another icon flashed, “is roughly frigate sized. But these two match the power output of that Republic destroyer that came through the system a couple months ago. But the big one? I can’t say. Could be that battlecruiser that’s supposed to be part of the Seylonique SDF.”
“That is a big power output,” Sterns murmured, studying the display. “Comms, get me the Cairn.”
A moment later, the face of Cairn’s commanding officer appeared. “Captain Sterns, what have you detected?”
“Captain Wyatt, we’ve detected a flotilla of warships incoming, though five of the bigger ones look like either civilian freighters or troop transports.”
“An invasion?” Wyatt asked, frowning.
“It looks that way.” Sterns pursed her lips. “Though the ships certainly have detected us by now, they’ve haven’t changed course toward us.”
“Captain, we’re receiving an incoming transmission from the largest ship in the flotilla,” the comms officer called out.
“Put it through on the big screen,” she said, pointing. On her chair display, Wyatt looked away, apparently receiving the same transmission. A man’s face appeared on the screen.
“Greetings. My name is Sebastian Chakrabarti, and I am a member of the Seylonique Administratory Council. We are here to try and establish a trade relationship between our government and the Ulla-tran system. We have brought ships full of goods that we wish to trade, and we look forward to opening a dialogue.”
The transmission ended. Sterns looked back down at her chair monitor. “So this flotilla coming into the system is claiming to be coming in to establish trade relations.”
“Yeah,” Wyatt replied. “I’m not sure I believe it either. But the three of our ships are not going to be able to do much to stop them, so I think it’s a good idea to escort them in.”
“You should call Command, Wyatt,” Sterns said. “I can contact the incoming ships, if you want.”
“No,” the other captain replied with a sigh. “As senior captain on this patrol, those jobs fall to me. You just keep an eye on them.”
She nodded. “Understood.” The call ended. “Well, people. It seems as though we get to just sit and watch while the big scary flotilla comes this way.”
The duty officer, as well as the other bridge crew, looked nervous, but Sterns couldn’t blame them. A flotilla headed by a battlecruiser and two destroyers was enough to make her nervous, too.
“Colonel, we have an incoming transmission from that frigate that is off to starboard,” the comms officer called out.
Gants rubbed his chin. “Well, Councilors, you wanted to make contact with the locals. It looks as though they are responding. Put it up on the main screen,” he ordered.
The image of a well-groomed man appeared, wearing a dark uniform. He had a look of arrogance and calm confidence, something that made Gants’ teeth itch. “Seylonique flotilla, I am Captain Wyatt of the Ulla-tran Defense frigate Cairn. I have sent your offer on to the authorities in this system and I am awaiting a response. In the meantime, I and the rest of my patrol will be escorting your flotilla in system.”
Gants nodded. “Seems like a reasonable request,” he said. “Considering that we have no real way of stopping them short of sending out the ships to chase them down and destroy them.”
“If that is a joke, Colonel, it is in extremely poor taste,” Harmon Kly snapped. “Don’t even suggest such things. We are here on a peaceful, diplomatic mission, not a mission of conquest.”
Gants glared back at the other man. “I remember why we’re here, Councilor. You don’t need to keep reminding me.”
“When you make comments about shooting down local spacecraft, I feel you need to be reminded, Colonel,” Harmon shot back. He pointed to the main screen. “And we don’t need you shooting off your mouth where others, especially the locals can hear you!”
“Calm yourself, Harmon,” Chakrabarti said, adjusting his collar. “Antagonizing the good colonel is not the way to get through this.” Kly growled and crossed his arms over his chest. Chakrabarti looked over to Gants. “Would you please call over to the… Cairn was it? I would like to speak with their captain.”
Gants looked at the councilor for a long moment, then turned and flicked his fingers in the direction of the comms officer, who nodded. “Channel open, Councilor.”
“This is Councilor Chakrabarti. We are happy to accept your gracious offer of escort into the system. I look forward to speaking with members of your government as we get closer. As I mentioned before, this is a diplomatic mission.”
The man grimaced, but quickly recovered. “Yes, Councilor. I understand. I’ve relayed the information back to my superiors and I will get updates as we move further in the system.” He paused. “But I have to request that you keep your weapons powered down.”
Chakrabarti nodded. “I understand, Captain. Though I know the commander of the flotilla will insist on leaving our shields up.”
Wyatt sighed, his face constricting into a full grimace now and he didn’t bother to hide it. “I understand as well. We will be escorting your ships in to the orbital, but you will maintain your formation. If any ships deviate, I will be forced to take action.”
Gants raised an eyebrow, but didn’t speak. Kly chuckled, but he also managed to hold his tongue. Chakrabarti nodded, his face still in its calm mask. “Thank you for your time, Captain. We will be continuing on course toward the habitable planet.” He nodded to the comms officer, who cut the connection. The councilor looked to his fellows, who all nodded and turned, exiting the Flag Bridge. “Thank you, Colonel,” Chakrabarti said, inclining his head slightly. “We’ll get out of your way now, but please, if anything changes…”
“I will inform you immediately,” Gants replied, giving a little nod. “I’m sure you and the other councilors have a lot to do to prepare for these talks.”
“Yes, thank you, Colonel,” he said, then turned and departed.
Gants watched him go, then turned back to face the front of the Flag Bridge. “Continue on course,” he ordered. “Tactical, make sure that the weapons are not powered and reduce shield strength t
o minimum levels. I don’t want to go placing undue wear on the emitters.”
“So you want us to keep the shields up all the way in?” Paxton asked.
He nodded. “I wish I could trust that these people wouldn’t cut loose and open fire on either us or the cargo ships, but I can’t. Not until and unless we can get some sort of agreement with them and maybe not even then.”
“You’re not a very trusting man, sir,” Paxton said with a smile.
“Not while we’re in a star system surrounded by what could be hostile ships. Oh, there are only three here, but I’d be willing to bet that there are far more than that elsewhere in the system,” he pointed out. “From the reports we got from the FP corvette that they saw several other warships further in system, patrolling near the planet and the shipyard. And you know that if the powers that be here decide that we’re a threat and not a peaceful trade delegation, they’re going to call in every single ship they can to try and eject us.”
“This ship alone if far more powerful than anything they could field, Colonel,” Paxton objected, clearly dismissive of anything that the locals might have.
“True, but what if they have ten corvettes and a half dozen of those frigates? We might win, but I’d be surprised if this old girl wasn’t severely damaged, to say nothing of the rest of the flotilla.” He took in a deep breath. “But we’re not going to focus on that right now. Right now, I need you, XO, to get in touch with the other ship captains and make sure that they understand we all need to keep our weapons tight. There will be no mistakes, no accidental weapon discharges. Make sure that you are very clear about that, XO. If you have any problems or questions, refer them to Councilor Kly. I’m sure he could get them on track.”
“Understood, Colonel,” Paxton said. “I’ll get right on it.”
Nikolas Montenegro turned back to the two other members of the governing council in the room with him. “Wait, there’s a fleet of warships here in the system? Why aren’t we going to alert status?”
First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 Page 68