His wife continued her rant. "Here it is, Connor, four o'clock-"
"Marian, please, please, be quiet for a minute. I can't think!" he interrupted her. Shocked at his words, Marian was quiet.
"What is it?" she finally asked.
Davenport could not think of a nice way to say it.
"War. Goddamn space war." He thought for a moment, then said "I'm going in. I need you to pack me a bag for a week and bring it to HQ later today."
He turned back to the phone. "Get me the Operations Center on a secure line."
The phone quietly made the connection, displayed the correct security status, and connected his call.
"Operations, Commander George."
"This is Davenport. You have the flash?"
"Yes, sir. I am drafting a general message to all vessels to raise their alert levels, pending additional information. I'll instruct the ships in our immediate vicinity to report their readiness and condition. "
"Very well, Commander. I will be there in a half hour."
"Understood."
Davenport dropped the call and dressed. There was not much he could do right away, other than what George had already started. But questions swirled in his mind about Liberty, her crew, her captain, what had happened, if there were survivors, what was happening now. 'PROGNOSIS GRIM,' Carpenter had said. He finished dressing in a few minutes and started out of the bedroom. Marian was standing in the way.
"War, Connor? WAR? I need to know, right now, Connor, right now, I need to know if we are safe or what I need to do. Someone has to look out for this family!"
Davenport just looked at her.
"I don't know," he said finally, deciding to tell her the truth. "This happened very far away, but I don't know if we're safe here or not. If we're not, there may not be much we can do about it. Keep all that to yourself, Marian. I'm sorry, but I really do have to go now."
She turned and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. He went down the stairs, and out the door. His assigned autonomous electric vehicle delivered him to ISC Fleet's Operations Center in less than 20 minutes.
ISC Fleet HQ Communications Station
Fort Eustis, VA
Sunday, January 16, 2078, 0428 EST (0928 UTC)
England was considering what all this could mean when the SLIP alarm went off again.
FLASH 207801151032UTC
TO: ISC PRESIDENT
UN GENERAL SECRETARY
CINCFLEET
FROM: TERRAN EMBASSY AT INOR
INORIA UNDER ATTACK
NUMEROUS EXPLOSIONS AND FIRES IN CITY
ORBITAL EXPLOSIONS REPORTED
EMBASSY SECURE AND UNDAMAGED
END
He went ahead and forwarded it to the Operations Center, then picked up the phone.
"Operations, Commander George."
"There's a new message, Commander, you should have it."
George checked, and indeed there it was. "Thanks, England," George said and hung up without waiting for a response.
So, not just a conflict in space, the attackers had struck the planet itself as well. Shortly after that, Admiral Davenport arrived. James George was ready for him.
"Sir, I think we should issue a general warning to the fleet."
"Yes, Commander. I agree."
Davenport then outlined what he wanted in the text. George prepared it and had the Admiral approve it before sending.
FLASH 207801171100UTC
TO: ALLFLEET ACTUAL
FROM: CINCFLEET
TOP SECRET
THIS IS NOT A DRILL
LIBERTY UNDER ATTACK 207801151020UTC AT INOR
INORIA ALSO UNDER UNSPECIFIED KINETIC ATTACK
WITH EXPLOSIONS AND FIRES REPORTED
ALL SHIPS ASSUME ALERT STATUS ONE AND REPORT POSITION AND READINESS ASAP
END
Holy crap, George thought to himself, we've gone from just another quiet night into a war in what, forty minutes?
Vice Admiral Stanimir Arkadiy Yakovlev arrived in the Operations Center not long after Davenport. The Deputy Commander of the ISC Fleet was a stocky, handsome Russian with an impressive dark mustache and gray hair. The incongruity was a source of general amusement to the staff. Yakovlev was tough, even prickly, but largely competent. He greeted Davenport with a nod.
"Ordinarily, I would say 'Good Morning,' Connor, but this is no good morning."
Davenport gave him a wry, sad kind of smile. "Indeed, Stan, this is no good morning."
Davenport briefed his deputy on what they knew, got his agreement on the warning message.
"Well, if I may sir, we need to get someone to Inor. There may be additional attacks, and there may well be survivors on the planet."
Davenport indicated his agreement.
"We may also need to assist the Inori with rescue or medical assistance on the planet as well," Yakovlev continued.
"Commander George?" Davenport called.
"Sir?"
"What do we have in the area of Inor?"
James George had already made a quick check of ship locations.
"Nothing, sir. I checked that first thing."
The admirals both turned to look at George.
"Define nothing, Commander," Davenport demanded.
"No ships within five light years, sir."
"But, Commander George, it's not even 16 light years from here!"
"Correct, sir."
The admirals now looked at each other. Yakovlev spoke first.
"They're either very lucky or very good."
"Don't count on luck. Shit. Commander, what's in orbit?"
"One moment, sir." He swiped and poked and checked his status display. "Stalingrad is here, due to leave in a week or so with Friendship. Their next assignment is Wolf 424. Several others in lesser states of readiness."
"Who is closest to Inor?" Yakovlev asked.
George went back through his screens. "Frigate Bondarenko is at Epsilon Eridani, sir, five and a half light-years away. She could be at Inor in maybe seven or eight days post-attack, considering the SLIP will take fifteen hours or more to get to her."
"Who's next?"
"The Dunkirk task force is at Tau Ceti, nine-point-seven away. She has Gagarin, Aurora, and Grissom with her. So, again, that's twelve from here, so, maybe eleven or twelve days?" He paused to check another screen. "They're near the end of their tour, due back here in just under twenty days, so they might be short on supplies if we keep them out too much longer."
"What else?"
"Freedom and Vostok are at the new Kapteyn Station starbase. They ferried out some staff and supplies. So, that's, lessee, ten point seven."
Davenport grunted in frustration. "So again, we're looking at twelve days to get them to Inor."
During this exchange, more Operations personnel were arriving, responding to the alert George had issued. Chief of Operations Rear Admiral Hans Gerhard had quietly joined the discussion.
"I don't think Freedom and Vostok could be considered combat-ready after that ferry mission, and whatever capabilities they do have we're going to need at Kapteyn."
Davenport nodded his agreement. "Yes, Hans, that is correct. The other implication of what you say is that we need to get someone else out to Kapteyn soon as we can."
"Yes, sir, I would agree with that assessment."
"Speaking of bases, what about Tranquility?"
Again, James George flipped through the screens on his NetComp tablet. "Eagle is there, sir. She's in good shape for defense. Canberra is enroute there now, so I think that is covered about as well as we can."
"Very well, Commander."
Davenport stopped a moment to look at the officers gathered with him.
"Gentlemen, it is now 0515. We got the first message less than an hour ago. The politicians will be waking up soon, and I expect the news will start to pick up on all this activity around HQ. The diplomatic cables will be leaked soon if they haven't been already. I need to have something to
tell them."
James George spoke first. "Well, sir, we have to do what we can do. Stalingrad's Captain Petya told me he has too many crew members ashore. He needs 24 hours with top priority on all travel assets before he can go. That means he's seventeen days away." George waited for the Admirals to respond.
"Continue, Commander," Yakovlev prompted.
"Sir, I believe we should send Bondarenko and the Dunkirk group to Inor right away. Even with the delays we've talked about, they're the best we can do."
"What about their supplies?" Gerhard asked.
"They'll make do, sir. They have the required extra week of consumables aboard, and they'll have to dip into that, but I think they'll manage."
"And then?"
"And then send Stalingrad as soon as she can get her crew back aboard. In fairness to Captain Petya, they were not expecting to go back out for another week or more."
The admirals agreed.
"You know, sir," George said finally with some bewilderment, "I never figured a space war would be fought in slow motion. The other thing we need to keep in mind is that the battle at Inor is really long over. We're just learning about it, but we can't affect the outcome of something that happened yesterday. So, let's not think like we can."
"Yes, Commander, I agree. But, as you said, we do the best we can at the moment, right?" Admiral Yakovlev asked.
"Indeed, sir, that is really all we can ever do."
George went to the communications desk and issued the orders in Davenport's name. The Fleet would respond, but given the distances and time delays involved, none of them were sure how much good it would actually do.
Inoria
Sunday, January 16, 2078, 1000 UTC
They walked to the Inori Council building with two Marines in escort, a distance of perhaps a kilometer and a half. On the way, Terri received Bondarenko's message.
"Bondarenko is coming. She should be here in five days. I expect the Dunkirk to come, but it's too early to have heard back from Captain Barker - best case they will be a day or two behind. I expect more from Earth after that, but we won't know for a couple days."
The RFGs had struck the Inori Council building twice. Fresh craters marred the wide, beautiful curved granite staircase. But it was passable, and the central atrium just inside the entrance was undamaged. Carol's heart sank at the destruction. Only yesterday - how could it have been only yesterday? - she and Marty Baker were talking about how this was her favorite site on the tour. The council chose to meet with the human representatives in the atrium as their regular chamber was in ruins. The nine Inori sat in their usual half-circle, with the humans seated at the open end in a smaller half-circle.
The Inori language had frustrated all human attempts to tame it. There were just too many sounds that human vocal chords could not quite duplicate, and close just wasn't ever close enough. The Inori spoke very good but accented English. They had also learned Russian, which seemed easier to them, and French, which was a challenge. An early pioneer in communication with the Inori once joked that they should all just meet in the middle and speak Klingon.
The Inori seated at the center spoke. "We welcome you, Mister Johnston, and express our thanks for your attendance."
"We are welcomed, sir. We are grateful for your invitation. May I say at the outset that we are saddened by the events of yesterday, and we express our sympathy to you and your people."
Terri found herself surprised at Johnston's smooth delivery. He actually sounded sincere.
"We are comforted, sir. And we express our condolences to you, Mister Johnston, for we know many humans were taken away as well. We know Ino does not wish this to be so. May we know who you have to accompany you?" The ambassador rose and motioned for the officers to do the same.
"This is Lieutenant Commander Teresa Michael, Council. She is the most senior military officer here on Inor." He turned to his left, "This is Lieutenant Carol Hansen, her able assistant."
"Welcome to you both." Taking her cue from Johnston, Terri answered.
"We are welcomed, sir." she started to say more but held back. When Johnston sat, they sat.
The Inori seated to the left of the first speaker then began.
"Human friends, we find ourselves at once grieved and frightened. We have no protection against such horrible acts. We would be grateful for any reassurance you can offer us that we might calm our protectorates' fears." Johnston motioned to Terri to respond.
"Sir, as you know our ship was lost yesterday. We have nothing above us at this time should another attack come. However, there is already one warship coming to our assistance, which will arrive in about five days. I believe a group of four more will arrive a day or two later." The Inori who had spoken nodded in acknowledgment and then there was a lengthy exchange among the council members. The three humans sat quietly and waited for the outcome of the discussion.
"Human friends, we have limited knowledge of these things. We have never seen such events. We have been traveling in space for a long time, some five hundred years of Earth. As you know, the two other worlds of Ino around his star are rich with delicacies and spices which are highly prized by our protectorates, and which we cannot produce here on Inor. Our charges will suffer greatly if we lose access to these." The Inori then went on. "Already we have lost contact with several of the vessels which move between the three worlds of Ino, and we fear they have also been lost."
"Sirs, we will hope that your vessels are not lost, but we have little ability to help until the warships which Commander Michael has reported to you arrive. Once they do, we could attempt a search for the missing if that is the council's desire."
Carol spoke up, her inner strategist hard at work.
"Sir, if I may ask the council a question?"
Johnston had a look of barely hidden terror.
"You may ask," the first Inori responded.
"Have any of the crews of your vessels travelling the worlds of Ino ever encountered other vessels? By that, I mean, spacecraft not from Inor or Earth? Might the crews have seen things they could not identify or explain?"
The question set off a furious discussion among the council, which went on for several minutes. As the Inori talked Johnston drew Terri and Carol closer.
"Very interesting, Lieutenant Hansen. You've set off a lovely firestorm. Let's hope they're not going to toss us out. What are you getting at? " Carol, as usual unable to hold back, offered her opinion.
"Well, Ambassador, if the answer was just 'no' we would have heard that long ago. I was thinking if this enemy had reconnoitered the system like we would, it's possible they were spotted. From this discussion, I think maybe so. "
Terri nodded, then shrugged. "Or they don't know and don't know what to tell us."
The conversation finally died down, and the Inori on the left nearest the three humans spoke. "Human friends, we ask your pardon for our delay,"
Johnston stood and addressed the speaker. "And we grant you pardon, but it is no imposition, sir. We are content to await your answer."
"We appreciate your patience. What you have asked did occur, perhaps ten Earth years ago. Three crews in succession told tales of large ships following them. We dismissed these as fantasies or 'space dreams' induced by traveling far from Inor. Perhaps we were mistaken."
Carol thought a moment.
"Sir, thank you for sharing this knowledge. Are you aware of any documents of that time, records or images of what was seen?"
There was another small flurry of discussion among the Inori.
"We do not create or keep images as humans do. There are no records, as you would think of them."
That seemed to end the discussion, but Carol's hunch had been right - the enemy had been here not all that long ago.
"Are there other matters you wish to discuss?" Ambassador Johnston asked.
"We are concerned about the humans who have died on Inor. We understand your customs and practices with respect to the end of corporeal life are much d
ifferent than our own, but we must collect the remains quickly, or the city will become foul and unhealthy. We ask of your intentions in this regard."
Johnston looked at Terri and Carol, neither of whom had considered this question. Carol had made notes of where victims could be located but there had been no discussion of what to do about them.
"We were not prepared for such a disaster as this, and so we are unsure of our course of action at this moment. We, of course, share your concern for the city and the sea, and we shall work expeditiously to resolve them."
Carol got the ambassador's attention.
"Mr. Johnston, we need options. Would they allow in-ground burial, even temporarily, or would they permit humans to be buried at sea like Inori?"
"Aren't you getting ahead of the plan, which by the way we don't have yet?" he hissed at her.
Terri shook her head. "No sir, she's asking for the information to support creating options. Whatever we can't do constrains the plan we might want to develop. There's no point in planning to bury the dead unless the Inori will permit it. "
Johnston nodded, somewhat reluctant to admit that they were correct. "If I may ask the council a question?"
"You may ask."
"Would this wise council permit the burial of human remains here on Inor, or would you permit human remains to be buried at sea as the Inori do?" Again, a flurry of discussion. A different voice, about halfway around the right side of the semi-circle, answered.
"Human friends, we honor your work beside us and your sacrifices yesterday to defend us. We do welcome any lost human into the sea with our own lost ones. The land is for the people of Ino, and we cannot bury remains in it, human or Inori. We are also aware of what you call 'cremation,' although you have not asked about it. Such incineration is also not possible, as the people of Ino would breathe the human remains from the air. That cannot be permitted."
"Thank you, sir, for your considerate responses."
He turned back to the chairman.
"Is there anything else the council wishes to address with us?"
There was a moment of silence before the chairman replied. "There is nothing, Mister Johnston. You are welcome to return to your embassy."
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