"The perilous situation is the presence of Brights on this planet. And what has happened to them. May I ask your name for the record?" the Prof asked.
"Boots, Fly. Touching down if you want me. Request orders." We could hear the Pterosaur, settling down not far from the burning Golden Summer.
"Fly, Boots," the captain said. "Deploy your unit for combat, but do not initiate it without my orders. We have an intrusion of cloaked Legion soldiers. They claim they have defeated our cloaking. Stand by to fire autoresponse mode. Commander, if your troops fire, their positions will be targeted with autofire. Cloaked or not."
"We have no intention of firing, Captain."
"If your intentions are peaceful take off your helmet."
"With pleasure." The Prof unlinked his helmet and pulled it off, clipping it to his belt.
"Yes, there are Brights on this planet," the captain stated. "What about it? The pirates brutalized them. We came here on an anti-piracy mission and knew nothing about these Brights. Now we're trying to track them down. Except it appears that you kidnapped them. Right?"
"Not exactly. Tell your man to open my belt pouch – yes, that's the one – and remove the doc card. Take a look at it, Captain. It's classified Cosmic Secret but I have been authorized to pass it to the responsible UMC official on this planet – that's you. Your UMC Chairman has also received a copy of this document. The information is from a reliable source who has provided significant, critical galactic-level intelligence information in the past – repeatedly. And saved countless lives. We believe the source. The source states that there is a high probability that the Brights plan to target the planet Earth with a guided asteroid which will fall into the Pacific Ocean and utterly destroy the city of Ultima Spring from the initial blast and resulting tsunami. It appears very likely that a large portion of Earth will suffer catastrophic long-term effects from this deliberate act of war. "
The Mocain captain stood there reading the document from a nearby scanner. "Are you receiving, Heritage?" he asked.
"We have received," Heritage replied.
"Flash critic to DefCom, and to the Chairman of the Council of Ministers, right now."
"Done."
"This is a very imaginative story, Commander," the Mocain captain said. "I'm not sure why we should believe it. Why are you here, what is your mission?"
"Our mission is to gain contact with the Brights, interact with them, explain to them that humans are not their enemies, and persuade them not to target Earth with that asteroid."
"Let me get this straight. The Brights plan to attack a major UMC world, and ConFree wants to prevent it. That does not compute. In view of the state of relations between the UMC and ConFree, why should ConFree care?"
"Captain, I will explain. The Brights are pretty much invulnerable. They can come into our universe at will, and they can quickly annihilate any perceived enemies. I've personally seen them do it. I don't want them to decide that humanity is their enemy. I doubt they will have any interest in distinguishing the UMC from ConFree, or from the pirate gang. They may have already decided there is no intelligent life in this galaxy, and if they decide humans are enemies, the UMC and ConFree will both perish. Now do you see how perilous is this situation? Their people have been attacked, kidnapped, raped and brutalized by humans. Whether the humans are pirates, UMC Startroopers, or Legion soldiers may be too fine a distinction for the Brights to make. They are merciless to their enemies. Those pirates have put all humanity in mortal danger."
"Heritage, I need a flash critic response on whether or not that document is legitimate."
"Will do."
"Captain, we must cooperate. Not as UMC and ConFree reps, but as fellow humans. My unit includes psychics and telepaths who can communicate with the Brights. We are doing so, but actions speak louder than words. You have one male Bright, recently captured. I'd suggest you treat him well. I'd suggest you give him to us so we can reunite him with his comrades, and show that we mean no harm."
"That's not bloody likely! Your story gets crazier and crazier. Why are the Brights targeting Earth? We haven't done anything to them. Why not target a ConFree world? Why us? And when is this going to happen?"
"Captain, we don't have a date, but we know that unless we take steps to counter it, it will happen. We also expect Bright starcraft to show up very soon, on this world, probably to free their people and punish anyone they believe has been responsible for attacking them. The Brights are grateful to their friends, but vengeful to their enemies. I'd suggest you join us in helping the Brights realize that all humans are not their enemies."
"You want their ship. ConFree wants that alien ship, right? That's your mission."
"We have no interest at all in that ship. We are focused entirely on the survival of humanity, and unless we can agree on a united and peaceful response to the Bright starcraft when they show up here, we will not survive, and neither will humanity. Captain, you'd best forget about that ship as well, and decide what you are to do if the sky suddenly fills up with Bright starcraft. They are the ones who will inherit that ship, not us."
The Mocain captain stood there looking down at the Professor. It was quite a sight, that huge Mocain, clad in bronze-colored armor, looming over the Professor, who appeared to be almost child-like in comparison, even in his sinister black Legion armor. But he was looking up at the Mocain, fearless and insistent, ignoring the other two UMC troopers who were still aiming their SG's right at him. I had one of them in my sights, and Scout had the other one. The angel of death had them both in her icy grip.
The captain picked up the chair that he had stumbled over and brought it up to the starlink tac-table, then dragged another chair over. "Have a seat," he said. "Let's talk." A wave of relief washed over me, a physical force. My whole body started shaking, inside my A-suit, and my eyes were suddenly watering. I couldn’t help it. Thank Deadman, I thought. Thank Deadman!
Chapter 7
God's Will
It was a long night. The rain finally let up but we stayed out there, Doggie and Blackie and Scout and me and Saka and Smiley and Ice and Nitro, my good buddy Arie. We moved around a bit, just for security, but we stayed there guarding the exterior of the portmod and keeping an eye on the Mocain troopers. They were cloaked too, but the difference was we could see them and they could not see us. When their second squad filtered in after dropoff from the Pterosaur we dispersed a bit more, because it started getting crowded. They were cloaked too, of course, but we could see them as well. Endless hours passed, as the Prof and the Mocain captain continued their discussion in the portmod. Outside, we were getting overloaded on adrenalin and tension and lack of sleep. The Mocains had been told that we had broken their cloaking so they must have been very jumpy, but we had been told that the enemy would be autoresponse firing to the source of any fire from us. Autoresponse fire was instantaneous and so we knew if we fired we would be located and fired upon – instantly. It kept us awake. I guess we were just about as miserable as those two pirates, Monk and Miss Octopus, who had been dumped outside the portmod, hands and ankles tied together. They lay there in the rain and the cold, abandoned.
Scout and I remained close to the portmod to more accurately target the occupants. By then they had closed the door but both Blackie and our eyemotes gave us an excellent view despite that. At one point a couple of Mocain troopers brought the Bright captive into the portmod. And shortly after that the Prof called Ice in. She had been in there for hours, sitting around the tac-table sipping dox and chit-chatting while we were struggling to stay awake.
"He's having trouble understanding why we are being polite while the others, the thoughtless dead, were waging war on them," Ice said. "I think that's what he means."
"What should we tell him?" the Mocain captain asked.
"Tell him…" the Prof began.
"Just a mo," Ice interrupted. She was still for awhile as the Bright stared intently at her. He was a male, slight in stature, pale faintly glowing flesh,
thin golden hair, yellow eyes, clad in camfax pirate fatigues. "I told him he can see the emblem on our armor. We are blood pledged to his people. We will die to defend them. The thoughtless dead are not humans. They are subhumans, an outlaw criminal subspecies that lives outside our society. They are like the Demons. When we catch them we kill them. He is now safe and five of his comrades are safe as well. Because of us."
"Good," the Prof said. "Good. How does he react to that?"
"He wants to see them." We were not supposed to be paying a lot of attention to the dialogue inside the mod. We were supposed to keep an eye on the two UMC squads outside. But it was hard to ignore what was going on inside.
"Bees, Prof, report," the Prof said on his tacnet.
"Prof, Bees. We're safely on board the Vampire. Request permission to…"
"Bees. Set up a vidcam to transmit images to us, now. Set up that tac freescanner and set it to our zero. Put all five Brights in the viewscreen and transmit. Let them broadcast whatever thoughts they want. This male Bright – Gidnurpel – he wants to see the others."
"Yes sir. Request permission to…"
"No! Report back the instant it is done."
"Yes sir."
Δ
A far-off pink sun rose slowly to herald the new day, peeking through the cloudy sky, lighting up the west. It was a wet gloomy morning, the forests black, wreathed in mist, the swamp giving off clouds of noxious gas. Bliss, huh? Sure didn’t look like it. I was ready to drop, still on high alert, surrounded by hostile Mocain troopers who were likely just as short-tempered and weary and angry as I was.
It seems the Prof was happy with the vid relay. The Bright male – Gidnurpel – was happy, too, as far as we could tell. He spent a lot of time communicating with the female Brights on the tactical freescanner, which had been transformed into a two-way device before we embarked on the mission to Bliss. It didn't work on a galactic scale but it worked fine point to point from orbit. The Prof had been lugging ours around in his backpack, and we had finally found a use for it.
"Commander," the captain said. "I have received confirmation from my Hqs that the document you showed me has indeed been passed to our Chairman by the ConFree Ambassador. As to the veracity of the information, of course we cannot say. However, my new orders are to cooperate with the Legion intruders with the objective of avoiding hostilities with the Brights, should they appear."
"That's good," the Prof said. "That's very good." It was the understatement of the year. "In that case, Captain, how about let's have both sides deactivate their cloaking. That's a dangerous situation out there, and your men must be just as tired as mine. Let's give them a break."
The Mocain captain hesitated. On the one hand, it would be useful for him to learn our numbers. On the other hand – he would have to show us his strength as well. He had no idea if our claim to have defeated his cloaking was real, or a bluff.
"It will be understood," the Prof continued, "that either side may resume cloaking at any time, for any reason or for no reason."
"Agreed," the Captain said. "We'd best make this a joint order." That's when the Prof and the captain stepped outside the portmod, without cloaking, and ordered both sides to deactivate their cloaking.
We did so, and so did the Mocain side. I was still pretty jumpy, but I was about worn out and I welcomed the change. It was a little shocking to see all those Startroopers in the flesh, even though we had known they were there.
"Commander," the captain said, "we plan to set up a field kitchen to feed our troops. Please tell yours that they are free to join us should they wish to do so."
"Why, thank you, Captain. That is most generous. We shall do so," the Prof answered.
And that's how we found ourselves in a Mocain Startrooper field kitchen, lining up with our enemies for hot chow. After that scary and miserable night, it was exactly what we needed. The field kitchen was very compact, but amazingly efficient. They even had hot dox.
We troopers sat on the grassy field while the Prof and the captain sat together on a couple of portable field chairs. By that time everyone had their visors open to scarf up the breakfast, which was possibly the best thing I had ever tasted. We were sneaking glances at the Mocain troopers and they were sneaking glances at us, although both sides were primarily concerned with the hot food. It was good to get a clear view of those troopers. There were several Mocains among them but most of the troopers were Inners, not Mocains. There were a lot of captured races or friendly ethnics, whatever term you wanted to use, in the old System empire and in the new Mocain coalition. Many of them I would have assumed were Outworlders had they not been wearing UMC armor.
I was sitting not far from the Professor and I could hear snatches from his conversation with the Mocain captain.
"I'd like you to know," the captain said, "that we're going after that alien ship. Don't try to stop us. We've been ordered to secure the ship, and I probably don't have to tell you that a very heavy task force is on its way, right now, to reinforce us."
"Doesn't that contradict your earlier order to avoid conflict with the Brights?"
"It certainly does. But if your system works like ours, you know that both orders are equally valid. So no matter what we do with the ship, defend it or hand it over to the Brights, we will be violating orders."
"We will not try to stop you, Captain. We are not interested in the ship, as I told you earlier. But I urge caution. If the Brights show up here, as we believe they will, it won’t matter how heavy your task force is. If the Brights want that ship back, they will get it back. And anyone who opposes them will die very quickly. At a minimum, a state of war will exist between the Brights and the UMC by the end of the day but, as you know, my fear is that a state of war may also exist between the Brights and all humanity."
"I will address that very question with my leadership. However, my mission, as of now, is to defend that ship from all comers. And until I get new orders, that's what I will do."
I shouldn't say this, but I admire the Mocains. I've admired them ever since I began to understand history. They are soldiers.
"Professor, Bees." It was our tacnet.
"Excuse me, Captain. Yes, Bees."
"Professor, we have zeroed Good Soul with the tactical freescanner. I've been able to communicate with her. She's getting weaker. I request permission to extract her. Bird is ready to return and I wish to accompany him and locate and rescue Good Soul."
"That's a twelve, Bees. You are needed with your flock. Stay there. No arguments. Tell Bird to get back here quickly, remain cloaked, land not far from the last site, and stand by. That's all."
"Please, Professor. Please."
"That word does not exist in Legion vocabulary. Follow your orders." Silence followed. I knew it must have hurt the Prof to say that, but he was right, as usual. Bees was taking this far too personally.
"I won’t ask who Good Soul is," the Mocain captain said, "but I feel you should know that there are three pirates who survived the crash of that starship you shot down, who are wandering around in the forest off to the northeast, and I've sent some cloaked units off to terminate them."
"That's fine, Captain. Thank you. I'm receiving reports on them as well. That was one of the details on our to-do list that your arrival here prevented us from addressing. Incidentally, I have no sympathy for pirates, but – those two captives you have could prove useful by providing more information. But only if they're still alive. Could you get your men to drag them into the portmod, revive them, and feed them some dox and maybe some breakfast?" Monk and Miss Octopus had been outside all night, hogtied like mumpups, lying in the mud, freezing in the cold night and the icy rain. I could see that the female was shivering so she at least was alive. And I was pretty sure it would take more than a cold night and some rain to kill off that thug, Monk.
"You're a real humanitarian, Commander," the captain said, with a smile. "But I'll admit it may be a good move to keep them alive so my superiors can question them and
then claim credit for whatever we learn."
"If you resist the Brights over that ship, what you will learn is that it is fatal to resist the Brights."
A couple of UMC troopies dragged the two pirates into the portmod to warm them up.
Δ
Saka and I moved as fast as we dared through the woods, heading for the Ruthie, which was parked in the heart of the forest. It was cloaked and we were cloaked and there was no sign that anyone was following us. We didn't have Blackie to assist us, so we couldn't be sure.
"Ruthie, Saka. We're almost on you. Is anyone else in the area?" The Prof had put Saka in charge of this particular mission. And it was the two of us because Bees was on the Vampire with the five Brights and Ice was with the male Bright in the portmod, and so only Saka and I were left to communicate with the remaining Bright. We weren't star telepaths so the Prof may have figured two of us together might get the job done.
"Those three pirates are hightailing it roughly north, and one Mocain Pterosaur dropped off some cloaked troopers to ambush them," Bird replied. "The second aircar is securing that Bright starship off to the southwest. Or I assume that's what they're doing there. Still can't see the ship." We were closing on the Ruthie, which showed on our tacmap as a dotted outline to indicate it was cloaked.
"Thanks, Bird."
"Saka," I asked, "think we're good enough to contact this Bright and persuade her to come with us?"
"Nothin' to it, Prophet. The eyemotes have zeroed her. It's like picking up a girl in midschool. Just sweet talk her a bit and she'll follow you anywhere."
"You must have had a good time in midschool, Saka. I majored in girls but sweet talking didn't always work."
"Sweet talk combined with candy often did the trick. Or fake jewelry, if she was really a hard target. That always worked."
Prophet and the Blood March (Prophet of ConFree) Page 13