by Dietmar Wehr
Pathfinder was the first EAF ship to incorporate technology reverse engineered from the Tyrell-designed warship that had been built by the Sheepul’s automated drone and donated by them to humans for precisely that purpose. When Eagleton had learned that Harrow had been promoted to SubCommander and been given the 2nd Officer’s slot, he was glad for her. He later learned that he also was assigned to Pathfinder as one of her three Tactical Officers. Still fascinated with Harrow’s charisma, he took every chance he could to enjoy her company in the Officer’s lounge when they were off duty.
Right now, he was waiting to take his duty station at the Tactical console. Harrow, on the other hand, had just finished her duty shift as the officer in control of the ship and was now technically off duty. When Ripley, the C.O., was settled in his Command Station chair, he looked around at the crowd and sighed. “If you’ve finished your shift and been relieved, please leave the Bridge.” After a few seconds pause, he turned and said, “Cate, you can stay if you like.”
“Thank you, Skipper. I promise not to get in the way.”
Ripley smiled. “If you have any suggestions or ideas after we make contact with the Odina, I’m willing to listen to them.” She said nothing but nodded her thanks. Ripley turned to Eagleton. “Just a reminder, Tactical. We do nothing that could be construed as provocative or hostile unless I specifically order it. Any questions, Lieutenant?”
“No questions, sir,” replied Eagleton.
“Very good. Okay then, let’s all take a deep breath and make contact with the Odina. How long until we drop out of hyper, Astro?”
“Less than two minutes now, Skipper.”
“Fine. Comm., is the transponder ID and translation program ready?”
“Yessir.”
Ripley said nothing as everyone on the Bridge watched the countdown timer. As it approached zero, he said in a low voice. “Here we go.”
The emergence into normal space was anti-climactic. To avoid alarming the Odina, who the Sheepul claimed to have informed of the coming visit by a human ship, Pathfinder emerged at roughly the same distance from the Odina home world as Jupiter was from the Sun.
“Let’s let them know we’re here. Comm.,” said Ripley in a calm voice.
“Transponder ID is being broadcast,” said the Communications Officer.
Eagleton heard the expected ping through his earpiece and said, “We’re picking up lots of EM signals. TacComp has classified most of them now if you’d like to see the tactical display, Commander.”
“Very good. Let’s see what there is to see,” said Ripley.
The actual forward view on the main display dissolved into a tactical representation of the star system. Planets were represented with green circles. Orbiting sources of electro-magnetic emissions were blue dots, and EM sources that were moving through open space were yellow triangles. Some of those sources were moving quite fast. There were also amber triangles that represented very large ships that were not emitting any transmissions. The Tyrell technology sensing system was picking up those due to their large mass. There were so many EM sources that Eagleton thought the display looked cluttered.
“Busy place,” said Ripley. “Zoom in and show what’s within ten light-minutes, Tactical.”
“Ten light-minute radius,” replied Eagleton as the image on the display changed.
“That’s better. I was starting to get a headache,” said Ripley in a somewhat playful tone. Eagleton saw that a few of the Bridge personnel were smiling, but no one made a sound. In spite of Ripley trying to keep the tension down as much as possible with a little humor, everyone understood that this was a potentially risky situation. According to the Sheepul, the Odina had given permission for this visit, but humans only had the Sheepul’s word for that. In any case, what the display showed now was just two triangles. One was picked up by its transmissions, while the other was detected by its mass. The closest of the two, designated Sierra1, was almost eight light-minutes away and would not hear Pathfinder’s transponder ID transmission for eight minutes. The other ship, Sierra2, reacted first, even though it was further away. Eagleton checked his console displays.
“Sierra2 must have the mass detection system, sir. It’s—“
Ripley finished the sentence for him. “Yes, it’s reacting to our presence long before our transponder signal could reach it. Not only is it changing vectors to head this way, it also boosted to point six five Cee! How very interesting. Our top speed is point six, but the Odina can go faster. I wonder what else they can do better than the Tyrell.”
Eagleton checked his display again. “Interception in fifteen point three minutes,” he said to no one in particular.
“That’s too long. Let’s go to meet them. Helm, I want an interception course at point six Cee. How long to intercept?”
“Seven minutes, fifty-five seconds, sir.”
Ripley nodded. “That’s better. When we get within thirty seconds drop us down to zero.”
“Understood, sir,” said the Helm Officer. While the chances of both ships colliding head on was very small, there was no point to tempting fate. By killing all velocity, Pathfinder would be allowing the Odina ship to determine how close they wished to get.
Eagleton heard some whispering, and when he turned to look at the source, he saw Harrow bending over so that she could talk to Ripley in a voice too low for anyone else to hear. When she finished speaking, Ripley replied in a voice that, while lower than before, was still loud enough for Eagleton to distinguish the words.
“I think thirty seconds should be enough time for them to hear our ID and see us slow down. I’d rather be overly cautious than reckless.” Harrow nodded and stepped back.
To Eagleton’s surprise, the time went fast. When the H.O. announced they were dropping to zero velocity, Sierra2 began to slow down at almost the same time but not as quickly. Eagleton realized he was holding his breath by the time both ships had come to a stop. The intervening distance was just under one light-second, close enough to establish two-way EM communication including video. He was eager to see what the Odina looked like.
“We’re getting a digital transmission from that ship, Skipper,” said the Communications Officer.
“Let’s hear it,” said Ripley.
For the first couple of seconds, all they heard were electronic beeps as the Communications computer attempted to make sense of the digital data. The sounds suddenly changed to a voice that spoke English.
“—Odina military ship Ogorn. We welcome humans to our star system. If you transmit a visual image to us, we will reciprocate with our image as well.”
“Okay, Comm., let them see me,” said Ripley quickly.
“You’re live, Skipper,”
Ripley cleared his throat and said, “I’m Commander Iruku Ripley. Pathfinder was sent here to establish peaceful relations with the Odina and to explore the possibility of a military alliance against the Tyrell. We understand that their attack is expected here soon.”
There was no immediate reply. Eagleton figured the Odina communications people must be busy trying to figure out how to process the new stream of digital information in a visual way that made sense. He turned to look at the Comm. Officer and noticed that just about everyone else on the Bridge, including Harrow, was doing the same.
The Comm. Officer suddenly snapped his fingers and manipulated his console. He then turned and pointed at the main display. “Incoming visual image!”
The image on the display wasn’t perfect. There were intermittent distortions. Either the Odina hadn’t figured out the right way to process the human signals, or their ad hoc algorithm to make their signals compatible had flaws in its design, but the signal processing was close enough that the humans could make out a face. It was a humanoid face with two eyes, one mouth and a small nose. The ears on either side were a little oddly shaped but in the right positions. The short hair was a bright flaming red, and the skin seemed to be white but with a bluish tinge that was perhaps caused by the fault
y signal processing.
“Greetings to you, Commander Iruku Ripley. I am Ship Commander Asai. You are correct. The Tyrell are expected to attack us in slightly less than three days. I will relay your request to observe the battle and your desire to discuss a military alliance. Will you wait until I have received instructions from my superiors?”
Ripley nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, of course, we’ll wait. May I ask a question while we wait?”
Asai nodded. That seemed to be a universal gesture among humanoid races. Even the Sheepul nodded when they wanted to indicate agreement. “Ask your question, Commander Iruku Ripley.”
“We now have the same kind of detection system that the Tyrell have, and I’m puzzled by the lack of very large ships within our detection range. Have you deployed your Tyrell-generated warships to the far side of this system?”
Asai smiled. “We have none of the robotically assembled warships that the Tyrell drone was sent here to produce. When we were able to determine the level of technology that the drone was capable of producing, we realized that we are already beyond that level and therefore held back the raw materials the drone needed. Those materials were used instead to build a defensive fleet that we are certain will defeat any fleet the Tyrell care to send against us. I cannot be more specific than that until authorized by my superiors. I’m still waiting for their response to your initiatives; however, I feel compelled to advise you personally, as one ship commander to another, that a military alliance is unlikely if your technology is only up to the level of the Tyrell.”
Eagleton looked at Ripley. He managed to keep his expression from showing any signs of annoyance at the implied snub. “We suspected that the Odina were technologically more advanced than the Tryell. Your confirmation of that fact is reassuring. A military alliance could still be of mutual benefit through the exchange of information about enemy strength, deployment and intentions. Would you agree with that in principle, Ship Commander Asai?”
Eagleton now noticed that the alien officer was suddenly blinking furiously. “That kind of information could be the basis for some kind of agreement. The Sheepul told us how they gave you humans one of their Tyrell warships for study. If you have been able to gather that kind of information from their ship technology, that would be an impressive accomplishment. Do you have information on Tyrell strength, deployment or intentions, Commander Iruku Ripley?”
After a slight hesitation, Ripley said, “Not at this time.”
Asai stopped his furious blinking. “I see. Have your people been able to locate the Tyrell home system?”
“No,” came the terse reply.
“Have you learned anything at all about the Tyrell themselves then?”
Ripley sighed and shook his head. “At this point, I would have to admit that the answer to that question is also no, but we are working to correct that lack of information.”
Asai’s expression was unchanged. Eagleton made a mental note to himself never to play poker with this Asai.
“Of that I have no doubt.” He quickly glanced to one side before returning his gaze back to Ripley. “I see that there’s an incoming transmission from my superiors. I will resume this exchange after I have learned what my superiors have decided.” The image went black. Ripley turned to look at his Comm. Officer and made a slashing motion across his throat.
“We’re no longer transmitting, sir.”
“Fine. Yes, Cate? What’s on your mind?” asked Ripley as Harrow stepped forward again.
“If that ship has already gotten a reply to their query about our request to observe the battle at this distance, then they’ve got FTL communication capability too.”
“I’d be surprised if they didn’t, Cate. We now have it from the Tyrell ship. But now that you mention it, I’m puzzled as to why our Communications Section didn’t detect the incoming transmission. Can you shed some light on that mystery, Comm?”
“Checking,” said the officer quickly. Ripley and Harrow waited. “Our system picked up a very short burst that lasted all of eight microseconds. If that’s the reply, then they transmitted it at very high speeds.”
Eagleton couldn’t see Ripley’s face due to Ripley looking away from him, but he could see Harrow’s face, and she looked surprised.
“Can we send FTL signals that quickly, Comm?” asked Ripley.
“Ah, no sir,” came the slightly embarrassed reply.
Whatever Ripley might have said next was pre-empted when Asai’s image reappeared on the main display. “My superiors have given permission for your ship to observe the coming battle. For your own safety, they have decided that Pathfinder should enter orbit around our home planet. We will endeavour to establish an uplink from our main command center to your ship so that you can see the same tactical information that our military leaders will see. I trust this will be acceptable to you, Commander Iruku Ripley?”
Ripley quickly looked at the Comm. Officer who nodded. “Yes, that’s acceptable, and we’re grateful for this permission. Will your ship be escorting Pathfinder to the proper orbit?”
“Very perceptive of you, Commander Iruku Ripley. When we’ve concluded our conversation, your ship will follow mine at the same distance as we now have between us. My ship will gradually accelerate up to point six of light speed. Will you be able to comply with these instructions?”
“We have the capability to comply and will do so,” said Ripley.
“In that case, let us begin. I will contact you again when we’ve achieved orbit.” The screen went dark.
Ripley snapped his fingers in the general direction of the Comm. Officer to shut down the transmission from Pathfinder’s end while stepping over to the Helm Station.
“Keep pace with that ship, Helm. If we lag behind, you are authorized to catch up to where we should be,” said Ripley.
“Understood. They’re moving, and so are we, sir.”
“Good,” said Ripley. He looked over to the Astrogation Station. “Astro, do you have an ETA to orbit yet?”
“Initial estimate is seven hours, forty-seven minutes, sir.”
“Well, that will put the ship into orbit just in time for you to take your next duty shift as the Acting C.O., Cate,” said Ripley as he came back to the chair. Eagleton watched Harrow’s expression and response. Her expression didn’t change. Whatever anxiety she might have been feeling at the prospect of conning the ship at that point was carefully hidden. He already knew from personal experience that she was an excellent poker player.
“I’m looking forward to it, sir,” said Harrow in a nonchalant voice.
Ripley chuckled. “I believe you are too. Since the Odina Commander will be calling us back at that point, I think I should be sitting in the Command Chair, but I’d like you on the Bridge as well. You take over Tactical for that shift.”
Harrow allowed herself a small smile. Ripley was doing her a favor, and she knew it. “Yessir, and thank you, sir.”
“Okay then. No sense is staying on the Bridge now. Go get some sleep. I want you well rested when we drop into orbit.”
Harrow thanked him and left the Bridge. Eagleton wondered if there was some way he could finagle his way onto the Bridge for that shift when he would normally be off duty. Somehow he doubted that he could swap shifts with someone else. Most duty shifts were boring because nothing interesting happened. He was willing to bet that shift was going to be anything but.
Chapter Three:
Harrow arrived back at the Bridge half an hour early. Ripley was there too.
“Request permission to relieve Lieutenant Sanchez now, sir,” asked Harrow.
Ripley replied without even looking up from his station displays. “As long as the Lieutenant has no objections…”
For a second, Harrow thought Sanchez actually might object, but he shrugged and got up. “No objections, sir. Permission to remain on the Bridge, sir?”
“Permission granted,” said Ripley in a somewhat distracted tone.
The remaining time to orbit w
ent fast. The Helm Officer kept Pathfinder the required distance behind the Odina ship. When both ships were in orbit and both inertial drives were shut down, Ship Commander Asai made contact again. He didn’t bother with any polite chitchat.
“Pathfinder must remain in this orbit unless it has received permission to leave it. Does your ship have the room to accept a small craft, Commander Iruku Ripley?”
“Depending on the size of the craft, the answer is yes. Are you intending to send one over?”
“We are. One of my officers will be piloting a small craft that is capable of providing all of her physical needs. When she is not interacting with your people, she will stay in the craft. It has enough food and other consumables for twenty-five days. Her mission is to act as a liaison between your crew and our people. She is fluent in your language and will not need any translation devices. Her craft is on its way now. As soon as she clears my ship, it will be resuming its pre-attack deployment position. Perhaps you and I will meet again after the Tyrell attack.” The image went blank and was replaced by the tactical display, which now showed a small craft comparable in size to a human shuttle, making its way to Pathfinder.