by Don Foxe
The Bosine stood quietly, awaiting a response. Expecting what? From his down-trodden face, he expected a brush-off. Who in their proper mind would invite the wrath of the Zenge.
Before Cooper could reply, Askiilamentrae, and another equally beautiful (blue and built) Fellen, one with silky, shaggy auburn hair, moved in front of the ship’s officer.
“We are Fellen,” she said. “We do not ask for safe harbor. Our planet, and our people are under attack. We ask for weapons, and a ship that will take us to Fell.
“We will barter for these. We can provide you with translators. We will even provide you the technology to build your own, a secret Fellen’s have held for over two-thousand years.”
Cooper stood to face the screen, and the aliens who faced him from 25,000 miles away. Aliens, and refugees from a galactic upheaval far from where the John F. Kennedy sat in space.
“I am a Space Fleet captain. I do not have the authority to offer you amnesty, safe harbor, or even guarantee you assistance. While I believe you, and I sympathize, I cannot speak for my superiors.
“Captain Poonch, I want you to take your ship toward the giant planet forward and port side of your present location. We call it Neptune. I expect you to open your information network to my ship. We need to find out what supplies you need to survive. We also need to figure out what foods you, your children, and your animals need, and whether we can provide the necessary supplies.
“My ship will return to Earth, and inform Space Fleet of your presence, as well as your request for safe haven. Humans are well acquainted with conflict, and the harsh realities wars create. I am positive I will be tasked with returning, and providing the supplies you need.”
Poonch pushed through the Fellen, garnering nasty looks from the two females.
“That could take months, Captain,” he protested. “You cannot use wormhole channels within a solar system. It is suicide. The only planet in your system that is habitable is the third one from your star. Months. We do not have the food to last weeks. Even with our botanical garden, and even if we were to [and here he shuddered] eat our animals. I do not want to return my ship to that wormhole. I know the Zenge sit there, somewhere waiting, but your plan leaves us with no hope.”
Cooper ignored the alien’s plea, and addressed the Fellen.
“ASkiilamentrae, your offer is of great value, but, again, I am not in a position to negotiate for the Fleet. I will present it to my superiors, but I can tell you now, they will not trade a ship for your technology.”
Returning his attention to the Bosine commander: “Captain Poonch, I’m sure your scans picked up my ship when we entered natural space. We did not use a wormhole. We have the ability to fold space and time. At our fastest speed we can reach Earth, and return here in less than eight days. Perhaps nine or ten if it takes longer to gather enough supplies to make sure your people can reach Earth.”
The eyes of the alien grew wide, giving him an ovine appearance. Cooper feared the stranger might have a stroke. He sputtered before speaking.
“You have a space-time-fold engine? That is an ancient legend. Stories told of a civilization which disappeared over one-half-million-years ago; a civilization that could fold space, and control time. They could journey anywhere; anytime. Our scans were unable to tell where you came from. We assumed they were malfunctioning. Captain Cooper, if your species have the ability to travel through folded space, then you are the most advanced civilization in the known galaxy.”
“We can, Captain Poonch.” Cooper used his poker face. Genna remained neutral. Until this moment, no one from Earth knew space-fold travel was exceptional or unique in the galaxy. Earth advanced from a nothing planet on the edge of the Milky Way, to the greatest civilization in the known galaxy, in less than fifty years.
ASkiilamentrae resumed her place in front of the camera. She appeared less in awe than Poonch.
“We can help educate you, Captain,” she began. “The Zenge are destroying entire civilizations. Whole planets and solar systems wiped out. They eat those they do not kill. They cage them like animals, and slaughter them as food. They do this to men, women, and children. They do this to dumb animals, and to our greatest minds.
“They will come to your solar system, Captain. Sooner, or later they will come, if only because they will follow the Osperantue ship. They seek out worlds to conquer. It is what they live for.”
She took a breath. Her blue tint darker. “If you can fold space and time, perhaps you are the ones who will help us defeat the Zenge. Perhaps being found by Poonch, and delivered to this place is fate. When you return to your superiors, they will want proof your system is in peril. We are the proof. Call us hostages. Call us prisoners. Call us allies. Take us aboard your ship, let us return with you to Earth, and let us teach you everything we can about the Zenge. If you are not prepared, they will destroy you.
“We are Fellen. We have incredible technology. We are the master engineers of the galaxy. We lost to the Zenge.”
Before Cooper could reply, Poonch chimed in. “She speaks the truth, Captain. The Fell are extremely straightforward. I will allow your ship full access to the total of information on my ship. Our communication links are open. All encryption turned off. The Fell provided me with a conduit communication-translation board I have installed on our bridge computer.”
“It is a computer’s version of our translator rings,” Askiilamentrae explains.
“If you access our information through that link, translation occurs most quickly,” Poonch finished.
Chapter 9
Cooper and Genna moved from the bridge to the Communications and Tactical center situated opposite the Captain’s Office. Designated C-Tac, the room multifunctioned, used as a nerve center during maneuvers with multiple ships, or as a conference center should a group required meeting space.
At the table designed for twelve, they took adjacent seats.
Cooper began the discussion. “Genna, Kennedy, before I ask your opinions, I have already decided we need to help the people on board that ship. Opinions, and options are open for discussion. Kennedy, did you access their systems?”
“I did, and the remarkable translation board has made analysis less complicated. The equipment or alien software could scrub the information before translation, but what I have analyzed appears uncorrupted. I would surmise they are truthful regarding their origins, their predicament, and their desire for a safe haven.
“There is an incredible wealth of information on the star systems in their section of the galaxy. Data on wormhole channels, their method of travel through deep space. There are profiles on fifty-six sentient species, one-hundred-forty-two races within those species, the planets they inhabit, and data regarding another one-hundred-twelve worlds considered viable, but without sentient life.
“Their ship is a civilian recreation ship, like those on Earth which cruise around the oceans with people on vacation. It is designed to hold half as many people as currently aboard. It is also designed for comfort, not speed. It would normally travel faster, but two of its four engines are off-line. They do not have the spare parts on board to make repairs.”
“Do you have an opinion on helping, and have you considered options?” Cooper asked.
“If we leave to get food, and any other supplies, there is the chance the Zenge may arrive before we return. We have no way of knowing if or how much they value the cruise ship. Nor can we estimate the numbers, or capabilities of any ships they may send. The ship’s records indicate the Zenge employee the tactic of overwhelming force. They are not the most advanced civilization. They are extremely aggressive. Descriptions of the Zenge, and how they treat their enemies are horrific. Though the Osperantue had a head start, the Zenge may have faster ships.
“If we do nothing, they will never make it to Mars, which is much nearer currently than Earth. Their propulsion systems would take them over three years. They would die of starvation.”
Coop thought he picked up a slight catch
in the AI’s tone. Could the artificial intelligence system experience sympathy? The AI continued with its conclusion.
“Make the fastest time possible to Mars, persuade Space Fleet to provide supplies, and, more importantly, a space-fold crystal array sufficient to operate for the Osperantue ship. Return, install the space-fold drive, and deliver the aliens to Mars before either the Zenge appear, or the refugees starve. That is my opinion.”
Cooper turned to face Genna, seated with hands folded atop the table. “Genna?” he prompted.
“At this point, I agree with Kennedy. If we accept the information being streamed from the Osperantue as accurate, then, simply stated, we are faced with refugees from a war seeking asylum. While this is a strange first encounter, it remains Earth’s first contact with aliens. We must help. Anything less is inhuman.
“Kennedy has run every scenario we can think of, and the best option is hurry to Mars, get provisions, a space-fold drive system, return with engineers who can install it on the Osperantue ship, and do it before the Zenge appear.”
“You both agree we need to help the people on that ship. To do that, the 109 needs to return to the Mars station as quickly as possible, and then return here with supplies and assistance.”
Cooper walked to the over-sized SHD screen at the front of C-Tac. “Kennedy, please provide a view of the Osperantue ship.”
The double-sphere cruise ship appeared. Coop knew the ship gigantic, but viewed in the expanse of space, it could be a child’s toy.
“Captain, we are receiving a message from Space Fleet,” the AI interrupted his thoughts.
Kennedy transmitted data-dumps to the Mars and Earth platforms since she reentered natural space. Considering the time delay in both directions, this is the response to the details of the wormhole event and the arrival of the alien ship.
“Break it down for me, Kennedy,” he said. “I do not need to read a book of hypotheticals and suggestions at the moment.”
“I can read it all to you, Captain. It says, “You’re on site. Your call. Do us proud.” Signed Admiral P.A. Patterson, Space Fleet. That is the complete message.”
Coop nodded. He returned his attention to the aliens at the door.
“I agree the 109 making the trip to Mars and back is the only hope for those aboard the Osperantue ship . . .”
“It is called the Star Gazer,” Kennedy informed them. “The name was part of the data I received.”
Cooper continued, “The only hope for the Star Gazer is Space Fleet providing supplies. Otherwise they need to turn around, and take their chances the way they came.”
The Captain of the SFPT-109, John F. Kennedy, turned to face Genna. He knew Kennedy could see him as well. His hands clasped behind his back, and his posture ram-rod straight. A pose sea captains had mastered since ships first sailed on Earth. The stance an officer employed when addressing his crew before a bad storm. The unconscious position officers assumed when unpopular orders are given, and other options unviable.
“The Kennedy will leave immediately for Mars. Genna, you will have the Captain’s chair. I will take Angel 7 to the Star Gazer.”
Angel 7 nestled in the aft hangar, beside the thirty-six-seater shuttle used to move crew members across short expanses of space, or on space-to-surface trips. She was a three-person starship fighter prototype, and seventh generation of the first ship to use space-fold technology.
In unison, Genna and Kennedy said, “SIR!”
Genna, speaking for both herself, and the AI continued, with concern, if not consternation, in her tone of voice. “Captain . . . Cooper, you cannot do that. You are the Captain of the 109. I am totally unexperienced, and a civilian. Angel 7 cannot stand alone against a mass attack. If the Zenge arrive, you, the Osperantue, and the Fellen will lose.”
“Maybe,” Cooper conceded, but only a little. “With luck, you will return before they arrive. Maybe they never arrive. If I am here, Space Fleet will expedite your return. If I am here, the information from the data collected from the Star Gazer, and the tactical information the Fellen provide could give me enough of an advantage to hold them off.”
He smiled before saying, “Remember, we are the only civilization in the known galaxy with space-fold technology. I can use Angel and that technology inside the solar system. The Zenge use slower ships.”
“They will outnumber you with ships, and outgun you by an even greater margin,” Kennedy chimed in.
“Kennedy, what are the odds of the Star Gazer surviving if a half-dozen Zenge ships arrive, and catch up to her?”
“Zero.”
“What are their odds if I have Angel to help cover their escape?”
“Unknown. The information supplied provides only general descriptions of the Zenge’s ability and weapons. Without better data, I am unable to create an accurate estimate of their survival odds.” The AI was using her computer voice. Sounding uninterested in the subject, because it was obviously a waste of time.
“Better than zero?” Cooper asked.
“I do not want to belittle your ability, or that of Angel 7,” Genna said, standing, facing the captain, her hands now clenched beside her. “But one percent better than zero, is still zero. You cannot stay, and we cannot leave you.”
“Kennedy, can you operate this ship without a human crew on board?”
“You know the answer is affirmative, Captain.”
“Kennedy, I am going to depart with Angel 7 to join the Star Gazer in two hours. After I clear the hangar, please buttoned up hatches and depart for MSD.
“Genna, you will take the three-plus days in space-fold to analyze the data received from the Osperantue, and you will write a detailed, concise, and convincing report for Space Fleet, concluding with the need to help these aliens, and the importance of acting quickly.
“If the Zenge appear, before or after your return, it will indicate they may also have the intention of attacking Earth. I will send the tactical information I receive from the aliens, and any actionable strategies which may occur should Angel need to engage, to Space Fleet. If we cannot hold them here, at least the Fleet will have usable information and detailed scans that will allow them to develop a plan to stop them before they reach Earth.”
Cooper walked over to Genna, and took both of her hands in his.
“This isn’t simply about saving the aliens. This is about keeping Earth safe.”
Chapter 10
From the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, Cooper keyed his mike: “Kennedy, Angel 7 prepped for launch.”
“Aye, Captain. Magnetics will unlock in sixty-seconds. Main hangar door is opening now.”
The 109’s stern door opened, and oxygen escaped. Cooper felt his ears pop a little, even in the controlled atmosphere of his fighter.
He keyed the mike again and said, “Genna.”
“Yes, sir,” came the stilted response. Not a pleasant tone.
“It’s okay to sit in the Captain’s chair,” he said with a smile, positive he knew where she currently sat.
“Thank you, Captain. I prefer the pilot’s seat. I would prefer you sit in the Captain’s chair.”
“You will need to send a message to Admiral Patterson before you engage space-fold,” he said. “Besides sending the data we have, and preliminary suggestions, you will need to inform her of my decision to go aboard the alien spaceship. For security, ask that messages are terminated unless extremely urgent. I will update Space Fleet when I can.”
“Aye,” was the simple reply.
When the mag-locks released the fighter, thrusters allowed the compact space ship to hover ten feet above the deck. Originally parked for a quick exit, Angel 7 faced space when the door finished its downward swing. A push on the forward thrust, and Cooper was outside, and quickly cruising towards the alien ship.
The Star Gazer and the 109 had maneuvered to within 10,000 miles of each other. Captain Poonch had been informed of the plan. The Fellen had also been informed, and while not pleased they were not going to S
pace Fleet to plead their case, they were mollified Captain Cooper decided to remain behind, along with his fighter.
Genna demanded (yes, demanded) the 109 remain on station until he safely boarded the other ship. Ultimately, once Cooper departed, she became de-facto captain, and could “damn well stay if I want.”
The avatar was developing more personality. One distinct from the AI, and more rounded than when he first met her in the Admiral’s office. The fact she was not talkative, a bit snarky, somewhat taciturn, and definitely self-assured in her decisions made Cooper wonder how much he was rubbing off on the young woman, and how much of that was a good thing.
A message from the Star Gazer came through his helmet speaker: “Captain Cooper, this is Commander Cornitsch. I am in charge of storage and the hangar for the Star Gazer. When you are within ten minutes of touchdown, I will open the hangar doors. Look for me on the floor to direct you to your bay.”
Piloting Angel 7 did not require a full flight suit. Because he was entering an unknown environment, it made sense to don the suit until completing decontamination protocols required by the Osperantue.
Kennedy earlier determined Osperantue atmosphere was similar to Earth; a bit higher in oxygen, and two inert gases less (but not required for breathing normally). The gravity within the ship was eight-five percent of his ship, but, again, not an overly difficult adjustment.
“Thank you, Commander.” A channel change, and then he said, “Kennedy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you noticed the more conversations we have with our visitors, the better grammar and syntax becomes?”
“Yes, sir. It would appear the Fellen translator rings learn as they go. I imagine the same is happening for them as well. You probably sounded like quite a bumpkin during first contact.”
“Bumpkin?”
“Sir, a bumpkin is a socially awkward person from the countryside.”