For now, they would limp back to Earth and report to the Caliph of what had transpired. The Caliph had powerful weapons too, a massive, well equipped fleet the likes of which had never been seen before.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Rescued
Leonessa was struggling to concentrate on the tablet display in her hand. It was the only thing providing light, displaying data, but she couldn’t focus on it. Her mind kept drifting to other things, like sleep or food. She was down to fifteen crew, everyone was injured, some more than others. There were no seriously injured anymore, they had already died. Anyone still alive would survive until the next crisis.
“Attention JAS Shrike,” a voice said over their helmet radios. “This is Conglomerate Patrol vessel six-four-four-three. We are approaching your ship. Do you wish assistance?”
“Yes!” Leonessa said. “Please.”
“We have authorization to transport you to Bizzen. We will deposit you on a neutral landing pad.”
“Thank you,” Leonessa said, but was unsure what he meant by ‘neutral’.
“Please assemble your crew outside your ship and we will provide a transport to retrieve you. Insure you bring what you need. We will not be coming back. Please bring as many survival supplies as you can. We will dock in one point two four hours.”
“Acknowledged and thank you,” Leonessa said thinking of what they would need. There were plenty of survival supplies, and they could steal from the broken life pods. One point two four hours? An hour and fourteen minutes? Were they using some digital translator?
Everyone had heard the message, so she did not have to repeat it. It energized the crew. After so much hardship, and so much death, they would survive. They had found the lost colony. How else did these strangers know to speak English?
She wondered what kind of story they had to tell and if they would help fight the Caliphate.
“What do you think they meant by ‘neutral’?” Bebchuck asked.
“I don’t know but I want you to crack open the armory and issue weapons,” Leonessa said thinking about it. “Better safe than sorry. I also want as much survival gear as possible. Who knows what they are short of? Might be a robotic ship with minimal supplies.”
After an hour, the meager survivors assembled on the hull. Everyone was wearing a working suit, carrying a survival kit, some personal effects and assigned supplies. There was a gleam in everyone’s eyes, excitement, like the day the JAS Shrike had left Athena and was en route to the wormhole. They would live, and the things they would see were exciting. But not everyone was looking to the future, some crew members had blank looks in their eyes; they had seen too much horror to look forward to the future.
Bebchuck, Burke, and Carmichael had assembled a list of items and everyone was responsible for carrying something. Not knowing what kind of supplies and equipment were on the patrol ship Leonessa had them get some of everything possible.
She suspected they had food but was not sure how much. Based on the speed of the ship it could make it to the planet in about a week but she didn’t know what kind of gravity it had been pulling or if the crew were in gravity cocoons or had technology to protect them. Had the people of New Alamo changed? What wonders they must have accomplished free of the danger of invasion.
The time arrived and everyone was standing on the hull of the ship with their supplies and personal effects clutched in their hands, their magnetic boots their only contact with the remains of the JAS Shrike.
The vast emptiness of space stared back at them, telling them how alone they were in the darkness. Eventually a vessel approached them from the darkness. It looked like a long shuttle, painted black, which was standard space camouflage, and not unusual. It looked normal until she saw the lettering on the side, and her blood went cold. There was no way it could be human. Leonessa couldn’t tell what it was using for propulsion either. What had she gotten them into? How did they know English and what were they going to do to her crew?
“It’s not human,” Burke said, echoing her thoughts. “Who are they?”
“I don’t know but they offered to take us to Bizzen. If we stay here, we die. We don’t have any other options and they speak English.”
The shuttle pulled up near the shattered remains of the Shrike and a side panel slid open. Two figures stood inside. They were bipeds, but the proportions were all wrong. Their legs bent the wrong way, they were thin, and their necks were long and serpentine. As they got close, Leonessa saw they were smaller than humans were, and armed with holstered pistols.
The shuttle came in close and the aliens reached out to help the humans aboard. At first people were reluctant but Leonessa reached out first to take the offered hand and then the others followed. She was pulled aboard the shuttle and pointed toward the back. There was plenty of room and Leonessa wished they could have brought more.
Inside the shuttle it didn’t look too alien, but there was no mistaking the ceiling was lower and none of the markings were understandable or familiar.
“All refugees are to be landed in a neutral zone,” a voice transmitted to her. “This is where you will be placed to live your life as you see fit.”
“Who are you?” Leonessa asked and signaled Bebchuck, Carmichael and Burke to join the channel.
“I am the designated liaison officer of Conglomerate patrol vessel 6443. I will attempt to answer questions you may have.”
“What will happen to us when you deliver us to Bizzen?” Leonessa asked. There were too many questions.
“I do not know,” said the liaison officer. “It will be up to you to arrange transport home.”
“How do you know English?” Leonessa asked.
“I am using a translator. The Topa are very good about insuring quality translators and language algorithms. The computer could identify your language and translate for me. Are all the humans who will board presently aboard?”
Leonessa looked at her officers and they gave her a thumb up showing their teams were all accounted for. She had made double sure there were nobody else still alive on the ship. Most of her crew clustered against the far wall, away from the open hatch, holding packs and cases.
“Can we get more supplies?” Leonessa asked.
“You may have another point eight hours,” the liaison officer said.
“Burke, Carmichael and Doc,” Leonessa said thinking fast. “We need to get more supplies. Also get stretchers poles and wheeled carts. We have little time. I don’t know what conditions will be like on Bizzen so grab as much as you can.”
“Aye Captain,” they said and turned to their people making their own plans.
It seemed to take forever, but they grabbed more survival kits, air canisters, food, medical supplies and anything portable and useful.
“Are you ready” the liaison officer asked and Leonessa did a quick head count.
“Yes,” Leonessa said, unwilling to make a commitment, but there was no choice. “We are all accounted for.”
“Thank you. We will now proceed to Bizzen which is the fourth primary object from the sun. This is the Chonka system under the direct rule of the Chonka Federation. We are associated with the Conglomerate and submit to the Topa as required.”
“Neutral area?” Leonessa asked. “What does that mean?”
“The Neutral area is located in the territories between three barons. Local rulers. This is a free trade zone the barons are prohibited from subjugating by the Chonka Federation bylaws. Be warned these neutral areas can be lawless but you will be free to pursue your lives there and will not have to submit to a central authority.”
“Are there other humans on Bizzen?” Leonessa asked.
“No,” the liaison officer said. “You are the first.”
Which meant the Conglomerate span numerous star systems if they had met humans before.
“How big is the Conglomerate?” Leonessa asked.
“Please clarify?” the liaison officer asked.
“How many planets does
the Conglomerate control?” Leonessa said.
The liaison officer was silent for a few moments and Leonessa wondered if she had offended him or was asking a classified question.
“While my data may be old,” the liaison officer said. “It is estimated there are twenty-four thousand, two hundred and twelve inhabited planets with a population of over twenty thousand.”
“Who are the Topa?” Leonessa asked wondering how such a vast empire could be ruled.
“The Topa are the coordinators and facilitators,” the liaison said. “They belong to a race called the Pral and exist to insure peace among the different races. The Topa make laws and demand all entities obey those laws. Some Topa are called Weave Masters and command the Tal, the military enforcement arm of the Pral race.”
“Can you clarify the governmental system?” Leonessa asked.
“The Topa allow local governments to rule themselves, within a generic framework,” the liaison officer said. “They do not interfere but they demand the various peoples respect the licensing system and do not use weapons that may cause mass extinctions.”
“Licensing system?” Leonessa asked.
“It is a system designed to protect the technologies, security and trade of the different races,” the liaison officer said. “The Pral also manage the banking system which also allows them to enforce licensing.”
“The Topa allow their people to make war?” Leonessa asked.
“Why wouldn’t they?” the liaison officer asked. “Violence is a fact of life, like eating and procreating. The Topa do not seek to control or subjugate, they only seek to prevent genocide so the races can grow and learn on their own.”
“Will we be able to find help on Bizzen?” Leonessa asked looking at her officers. She could see the alarm in their eyes. They would be dumped on an alien planet in a potential war zone and left to fend for themselves.
“It depends on what you can trade or barter for. The Neutral zones are free trade zones. This area is not heavily populated and can absorb refugees.”
“Do you know where any humans are?” Leonessa asked.
“No,” the liaison officer said. “I am unfamiliar with humans, but since I have your language in my translator, the Conglomerate has contacted humans. I review our records and see no special notes or laws concerning humans. You are classed as refugees. Once delivered to Bizzen, you are not our concern. We patrol the space lanes and insure only authorized factions make war on each other and war does not spill over to non-violent factions.
“Per Topa law, only authorized factions may make war on each other. To make war on a non-violent other is a violation and will be dealt with using equal or greater violence.”
“How many Topa are there?” Bebchuck asked.
“Unknown, irrelevant,” the officer said.
Bebchuck shook his head.
“How could we go about finding other humans?” Leonessa asked.
“Go back to where you came from,” the officer said and Leonessa scowled.
“Do you think we have any skills or anything worth trading?” Leonessa asked.
“No,” the liaison officer said and Leonessa nearly choked.
“What are our chances of survival on Bizzen?” she asked.
“Low,” the officer said. “You are armed, but unfamiliar with this world, the people or the culture. Initial scans show you are a frail life form.”
“So why bother saving us?!” Leonessa said getting angry. This made little sense. She looked at the remains of the crew, looking at her for direction and hope.
“It is the Topa laws of the space lanes. You have requested assistance and our duty states we must deliver you to a civilized planet of at least class three level for our obligations to be met.”
“It doesn’t matter if we die out here or on some planet as long as your obligations are met?” she asked.
“Correct,” the liaison officer said. “This may seem cruel to you. You do not understand our culture or ways. Is this your first experience with an extraterrestrial species?”
Leonessa paused. “Yes,” she admitted.
“Expected then,” the officer stated. “You should not have left your culture and people without being prepared. Life is a struggle for survival. Did you think that would change?”
Leonessa looked at her officers who looked back at her. This is not the way any of them expected things to turn out. The outer hatch closed and the two helpers had disappeared. It looked like they were being left with only the hold.
“What are the rules on violence in the neutral zone?” Leonessa asked, preferring to ignore the last question.
“If you are violent and dangerous, then dwellers will band together and kill you,” the officer said. “Most, if not all neutral dwellers are armed. The more affluent ones rise to the surface, the deeper you go the more desperate and less well armed they become.
“Some areas may have a local defense force keeping the peace. These forces are more common the closer to the surface you go.”
“There are lots of caves?” Leonessa asked.
“No,” the officer said. “It is cities built upon cities.
“Sweet Jesus,” Carmichael muttered. “There must be billions or trillions of aliens.”
“How are so many people fed?” Leonessa asked.
“Different species have different requirements,” the officer said. “They grow or produce their own food or barter for it.”
Burke sat down and held his head with his hands.
“How long until we are ‘delivered’?” Leonessa asked.
“Two days and twelve point three hours,” the officer said.
“We need to start rationing,” Leonessa told Bebchuck, who nodded. They had packed about six weeks of ration bars per person. It would not be enough.
“What is the air like?” Leonessa asked.
“Stand by and I will assess your ability to breathe it,” the officer said. Leonessa fidgeted.
“In an extreme emergency, you could breathe the air for short periods of time based on my basic scans of your biology. It will not be pleasant and after several minutes it will become fatal.”
“There is nobody that can help us?” Leonessa asked. It could not end like this.
“I do not think so, but I am not a native of Bizzen,” the officer said. “There is a low tolerance for refugees on high population worlds.”
“Could you find out?”
“I will make a general request on the planet net and notify you if any answer,” the officer said.
“Thank you,” Leonessa said and sank down to the floor. It was all overwhelming. The Jupiter Alliance was more than happy to take in peaceful refugees, to help them get to their feet and become productive members of society. However, there was no tolerance for people who would not work, but few people without a strong work ethic survived long enough to make it to Jupiter.
Now here was an uncaring society, dumping refugees into a war zone where they would be victimized and killed, it allowed ships to fight each other as long as non-combatants were not injured. It appeared in the Conglomerate life was cheap and worthless. What had happened to the New Alamo colony?
She looked at the people looking at her. There were fifteen, all tired, injured, and afraid.
Leonessa’s thoughts turned back to her time spent in the Jupiter Alliance Marines. She fell back into the pattern easily, categorizing people by weapon and load, assigning them to teams, each with a leader reporting to her. Less experienced officers would have made the teams larger, which would be harder to control and reduce the initiative and responsibility of individuals. More leaders came up with more ideas.
She stood up. It would not do to let them see her depressed. They needed to see her strong and in command, every leadership course she had attended had stressed that. She was the Captain, even if her ship was now a shattered wreck, full of ghosts, and drifting through space.
“We will get through this also,” she said on the general frequency, looking
at them, squaring her shoulders, and putting conviction into her voice. “We have come this far. We are survivors. The Caliphate bastards launched ninety-eight missiles at us AND WE SURVIVED!
“We will NOT go quietly into the night; we will not become some piece of garbage on an alien world. We are the pride and joy of the Jupiter Alliance. We are among the best and we will prove it.”
Leonessa walked among them, looking into eyes and grasping shoulders, touching arms. Making physical contact with the people who needed it the most.
“We knew we might not come back when we learned what the Shrike was about,” she said. “We knew we might enter the wormhole and die there. Look how far we have come! We have encountered aliens! We had a Caliphate armada launch all their missiles at us and we survived.”
“Look around you people,” she said. “YOU have a destiny and so does the person next to you. The odds don’t look good but we will find a way. I need all of you. You are the best. You are survivors and with you at my side, I know we will continue to survive and return to our homes.”
“Are you with me?”
Some people spoke up.
“ARE YOU WITH ME?!” she yelled and everyone stood and yelled with her.
It felt good to Leonessa, maybe a little unusual, and it did not feel real to her, but the look in the eyes of those around her told her they felt the energy and meant it.
“Good,” she said dropping her volume. “We have work to do. We need to be ready and we need to re-evaluate our inventory. Officers to me. Let’s get this figured out. We can do this.”
Leonessa just hoped she wasn’t lying to her people.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Return: The Conglomerate Trilogy (Volume 1) Page 12