Fleetfoot Interstellar: Fleetfoot Interstellar Series, Book 1
Page 16
It will be by your sacrifice that this world will flourish again. By your example, I follow the way of our Hive, which offers its life to sustain all life on our world. In doing this, we honor the Divine Gift of Life in this universe.”
But make no mistake. In order to protect this Divine Spark, we will find it necessary to destroy. We can only hope that our strength and courage might limit the damage we must do.” and the new Queen swiveled her head to cast her composite eyes directly at a group of young Warriors standing to her right. Those warriors retained the task given them by Fourseven before renouncing her throne. Fourseven was beyond grateful that the new Queen chose to pursue peace at all costs.
On hearing the Queen’s dedication, all motion stopped, only to start again when the Guardian raised both sets of upper hands to the clouded sky above them.
“Go now, to the Stars, Children. Walk the path you know to be true.”
Fourseven turned, and the ranks composed of thousands of her winged soldiers and Arachnids, parted like still water before a ship’s bow. Leader followed two paces behind her right shoulder, and Cilla, the Arachnid Commander, to her left. The three made their way to the Arachnid lead ship, and boarded. When the three disappeared behind a seamless hatch, those thousands of soldiers followed suit with silent purpose.
From the rising ship, Fourseven watched swirling, fluid lines of Arachnid and Guardian soldiers form whorls and curves as they assembled. They marched as if born from the same brood. For the first time in recorded history, two species of Insectoid embarked for war together.
***
“Four days, sir.” First officer Gholss hissed tentatively. “Four days to Kelgar 7 Station. That is as fast as we can go within the influence of this star.” He kept eyes pointed to the deck, but the angle of his short, toothy snout remained confident, yet not defiant. His hand had almost grown its fingers back, he had no desire to lose it again. There was not telling what unwelcome news might bring from his Alpha Commander.
Sslolg left his attention on the holographic projection that rioted with colorful data. He dismissed the First Officer with a curt “Very good,” as he studied the strategic plan. He was aware of his first officer standing several paces behind him. Sslolg smelled his fear.
“Come here, First Gholss,” Sslolg said mildly. Alpha Sslolg turned a single eye to his First and asked, “What do you see here?”
Gholss flicked his eyes across the chaotic scramble of facts and figures representing quadrants of the Galaxy where Reptilian interests positioned themselves to storm the Trade Union and rip it apart. He knew what the symbols meant, but Sslolg’s display was truly mystifying. Glowing orbs of data ran through with multicolored lines between them ran thick with figures which updated in real time.
“Forgive me, Alpha Commander. This is too much information for me to understand fully,” Gholss answered, abandoning caution. With the severity of his punishment, honest answers seemed less daunting. Gholss tracked the data as best he could, trying to come up with a better answer.
“Of course, Gholss. This is chaos,” Sslolg said in a mild tone that shocked Gholss as much as a shout. “Simply tell me what you do understand.”
The soft words pushed Gholss into the images like a toy boat into a stream of runoff rain. “I see us here, sixty light years from Kelgar,” Gholss said. “I see the lines here representing our tactical links to the Fleet. The position reports show the fleet closing in on the main Trade Lanes.”
“Very good,” Sslolg said. “Go on.”
But Gholss didn’t need prompting. The current of images picked him up and carried him away. For months, he followed the same or orders as he followed throughout the many tedious years before. Travel, train, simulate battles, review and drill again. That was his life in the Military. Constant preparation for war seemed to make up the bulk of his career. Until that moment, Gholss had no idea how bored he was. But now, he stared into the face of the master plan itself as it played out. This was no simulation.
“I see regular trade all along the main spine here,” Gholss said, pointing a foreclaw on his good hand at a thick string of intertwining, glowing threads that represented all the merchant ships under surveillance. From looking at them for so long, Gholss realized that Reptilian intelligence knew the exact positions of the vast majority of the Trade Union merchant fleet. The first officer opened his jaws and hissed in amazement. “I see the trap closing. Our disguised light fighter craft are all along the Lanes. With one order, we can secure...” Gholss trailed off as he calculated distances on the fly. He swept his good claw from the outback worlds through several branching Lanes leading to the Core Worlds. “We can secure more than 800 radial light years of territory in a single stroke.”
“Yes, my Honored First. You do see.” Sslolg said, placing his hand on Gholss’ shoulder in a fatherly manner. The fear pheromones coming from the First Officer faded away to be replaced by the familiar scent of battle lust.
***
“Senator Nautiyal,” the fawning Junior Senate Prince gushed, “A wonderful speech, just wonderful!” and he gripped Abhay’s un-offered hand in his own clammy grasp. Senator Abhay shook the hand absently as he recited the standard platitudes in return. While his eyes met the nameless Senator’s own, they reached far beyond the face before them. Abhay probed far out into space and time, and he did not like what he saw there.
The speech was just a ruse. It was the funding he needed to continue with the covert work. If the Global Congress truly knew about the secret Military defense operations, it would surely be shut down. From the ominous posturing of Representative Mangalam Singh, it seemed as if the secrecy of those operations was in question.
“As always,” Senator Nautiyal said, “My district is grateful for your support. It is not only the great tradition of the BJP Empire that binds us together, but the spirit of peaceful cooperation itself that brings us to glory.”
While he spoke those words automatically, another set of statements flowed through his mind. While Abhay made his speech before both houses of Congress, he received the report from his political operative. Abhay had a leak. Someone either let slip revealing information, or that information was stolen. The operative did not say which, but either way, the situation was bad.
“Senator,” Malik chimed in, as if on cue, to deliver more bad news subvocalized through the comm implants. “Our merchant friends are in serious financial trouble.” Those coded words meant that the worst-case scenario arrived. The Senator managed to dismiss the generic junior representative without letting his utter dismay show.
“Captain Malik,” The Senator said to his loyal bodyguard, “Summon the Skimmer and let’s make our way to the embarkation platform.”
Just as Malik raised his hand to wave down a transport platform, a noisy throng of politicians cut through the crowd. A shouting band of reporters nipped at their heels like shepherd dogs. Several reporters broke off from the pack and turned toward Abhay. They were halted in their tracks by the aggressive body postures of Jabir and Madhuk.
“Senator Nautiyal!” A reporter shouted from a respectful distance, “Is it true that this government employs spies in the Trade Lanes against Union protocol?”
Not to be outdone, another reporter nipped at the heels of his colleague with another question. “What do you say to the Reptilian Ambassador’s accusation that these spies assaulted Reptilian personnel at the Kelgar 7 Space Station?”
A rare moment of complete shock and confusion washed over Abhay. He was not even aware of his facial expressions. Reports of doom from his operative appeared to be ridiculously, comically and tragically understated. He did not have a leak on his hands, his operation had a catastrophic breach. The number of good options dropped to zero before his eyes.
Malik jumped into the fray, saving his dear friend once again. “The Senator does not respond to wild rumors and baseless accusations.”
Emboldened, the first reporter burst out with a wild scoffing laugh, said, “The accus
ations are hardly baseless. Documentation provided by the Reptilian government is picture perfect! What do you say, Senator?”
Senator Nautiyal snapped himself back together. “No evidence is perfect. We have heard such accusations from the Reptilians before regarding border colonies. It is well known that this is a favored negotiating tactic of theirs.”
The second reporter took up the baton and hurled it at the reeling senator. “You have not answered the question, Senator. Are there, or are there not, BJP operatives working in the Trade Lanes?”
“No more questions!” Malik barked, just as a transport platform set down beside them. The Senator’s entourage quickly boarded the platform and rose high up into the chamber.
“Where is that skimmer,” the Senator asked with urgency. Malik prodded the platform pilot to proceed faster, and encouraged him to do so with two gold coins. They arrived at the skimmer platform, and another tail of reporters formed behind them.
“Secure the skimmer,” Abhay barked as soon as the gullwing doors sealed with a thud and a hiss.
“Secured,” Madhuk announced. “But given this leak, security is uncertain.”
The news turned from bad to horror show when Abhay saw the hail from his commanding officer, General Blevins. The hail alone was evidence enough to confirm the fact that the keystone ship operation failed. Hard stop. No going forward. The Senator Colonel ignored the call.
“You don’t want to answer, that, Sir?” Madhuk asked with obvious worry.
Abhay turned his eyes to each of his most trusted friends slowly, one-by-one.
“Drop the ‘Sir’ business right now. If you are willing, I need you as friends first. The time for deceit is over. This might be the end of my career, and I feel no shame in asking you for help; begging you if necessary. There is a good chance that what needs to happen next will end my career. Or land me in prison, or both.
But, no matter what happens, we must find that Keystone ship. Finding that ship means sparing billions of lives. The Reptilians smell weakness now. They will likely use whatever happened on Kelgar as a pretext for war. There may be little to do about that, but at the very least, we can find that ship, or find a way to activate the secret fleet.”
“That’s quantum encryption,” Jabir exclaimed. “The laws of physics cannot be broken.”
“This is true, but since humanity discovered FTL travel, we understand there are always ways to get around the laws.”
“What do you need?” Jabir replied. The rock-solid eyes surrounding him told Abhay that his friends made their choice.
“Whatever it takes,” Madhuk said. Malik simply nodded his head once, slowly.
“First, we need to regroup. Signal the pilot to head for the sea.”
***
Hundreds of small ships rose up from the Insectoid homeworld and broke through its atmosphere with as little effort as a rock thrown through fog. The view from the pilot cubby of the lead Arachnid ship came to Fourseven like a dream. It had been more than a century since she left the planet on a diplomatic mission to some humanoid world, an event she’d all but forgotten. Now she left the planet once again, but this time, on a mission to save the life of her planet and all its species.
“General,” Cila announced, “The fleet is assembled, we will arrive at your ship in two planet cycles.”
“Why so long?” Leader asked. “We must get to the Kelgar 7 station before The Deliverer’s trail grows cold.”
The ship’s Arachnid pilot, Boljak answered. “We are trying to avoid the planet sensors. We managed to slip out undetected because the Simians are causing all manner of chaos down there. Planetary defenses are overwhelmed.” The spider used informal language, with which Leader obviously took issue. He was not accustomed to informal address. He was about to snap back with sharp words, but Fourseven’s look stayed his tongue.
“These Arachnids are not formal soldiers, they are Militia,” Fourseven subvocalized on a private channel. “Their military protocol is ceremonial at best.”
“Then what use are they to us in the long fight?” Leader subvocalized in reply.
“Their kind has fought the long fight for ecological balance for millennia. They kept the Continental Jungle alive for countless generations. They will adapt. You will see.”
To this, leader had no reply. Instead, he turned to the Boljak, said, “Very good, Pilot. Carry on.”
Boljak turned his eight eyes toward Leader and paused for a moment, before bursting out in laughter which passed like a wave through the rest of the Arachnid crew. This time, Leader could not be restrained.
“I did not realize I made a joke!” he exclaimed, thorax pushing out. His stinger extended a few inches from his abdomen. The Arachnids ignored the aggressive posture and laughed harder.
“Leader,” Cila said over his shoulder. “You’ll find we Arachnids do things much differently than you’re used to.” She could see Leader didn’t understand, so she explained, “Neither you, nor Fourseven here are giving any orders. Se serve by our own leave. So, your giving Boljak permission after the fact is very amusing to us.”
Cila spoke these words as she leaned back into the arms of a particularly large Arachnid. The two appeared to be lovers. This type of affection simply did not exist in Leader’s world. He found the display distasteful. Without a word, he stomped rearward to look for familiar company.
Fourseven worried. “I hope Leader does not insult you.” she said. The statement brought a bit more laughter.
“Please, Fourseven. We don’t take offense easily. It’s not our way. We will let you know if we do, though. You have nothing to fear from us. Consensus among Arachnids is with you.”
“And if consensus turns?”
Cila leaned forward and away from her lover’s eight arms. “Then we may be unhappy, but once we give our word, we follow through no matter the cost. Every Arachnid here has given the same word.”
“What is that word?”
“Queen.”
“But I am no longer queen.”
“For a time,” Cila replied. “But as soon as you left the planet, you became Queen again of this mixed brood.”
Cila smiled, added, “But don’t look for us to call you ‘General’ or ‘Queen Guardian’ though. We will fight for you just the same.”
Fourseven turned back again to watch the stars slowly shift as the Arachnid ship approached nearlight. They passed the third moon and the fourth planet loomed large. In just two cycles, Fourseven would see her ship again. It waited for her return at the edge of the solar system. She was struck with the odd feeling that it might miss her.
19
Mumlo wagged his head impatiently as status reports rolled in across the display scrolls he arranged haphazardly all over the flight bridge. All stations reported rapid progress on their assigned tasks. Junior crew members bounced around the circular bridge like ball bearings in a Human child’s game. Mumlo recalled Drexler playing with such a toy when he was a child. Each little bearing had to find its rest in a socket formed into the floor of the toy. Drexler would play with the toy for hours, looking for the optimal solution. The First Officer wasn’t sure why he thought of this now, unless it was his own growing fear that they would not escape. He discounted the notion that he was worried about the errant Captain who was once a child playing on this very bridge. It looked like the boy had gotten them into the worst bind yet.
“Where is Engineer Bao! We need that reactor stoked fifteen minutes ago!” Mumlo shouted. The humanoids jumped to a person with the volume of Mumlo’s voice. They would have even more trouble finding their little pockets to rest in now, Mumlo thought.
“Fuel levels are stable and plenty, Captain. Particle emitters nominal,” said the acting First Officer, a feline breed of humanoid by the name of Midge. Her Human counterpart, Crewman Eddie, chimed in on the heels of her status report, “We just need main power sequence, all other systems are ‘Go’.” and the two huddled together over the engineering console, issuing comman
ds and taking readings in the face of obvious inaction from a vital part of the ship’s operation.
“Reggie!” Mumlo bellowed, “Locate Bao!”
“Crewman Bao Chanli is in his quarters.”
The Humanoids called the Forest Children were renowned for their calm stoicism. Mumlo was not the usual Forest Child. His baseline demeanor was calm and measured, but he was known on the ship for bouts of abject rage. Such reactions from the first officer were never without justification, as he was also known as a just and fair officer. So, when Mumlo flew off the handle, the crew understood too well that some crew member was in grave, much-deserved trouble.
“Open channel to Bao’s quarters!” a comm tone announced the channel established. “Chanli, where are you! We need that reactor stoked!” No answer. “Midge, command is yours until I get back!” Mumlo growled.
His progress through the tractor deck to the habitation levels caused many frightened crew members to plaster their backs against walls and leap out of the way. Mumlo was on the warpath. He burst into Chanli’s quarters and into a wall of tobacco smoke. The place reeked of liquor, flatulence and the spicy sausage that seemed to be Chanli’s only food source.
Mumlo refrained from seizing the errant engineer by the arms. Human bones were very fragile, and Mumlo generally did not enjoy violence, even when it was justified. He measured his voice carefully.
“Crewman Bao,” Mumlo began, “we need you in engineering now. The Junior engineering staff has done everything they can without you.”
Bao waved some smoke away from his head and turned away from the display scroll splayed across his bunk. He sat cross-legged on the floor tapping away at the screen.
“I’m doing it right from here, boss,” Chanli said, voice slurring.
The rage welling up inside Mumlo threatened to explode. He had no time to indulge that emotion now. The goal was to get his engineer moving. Murder would not serve that goal.